ction following the long train," Tom tried to
tell himself. "Whew! Until within the last two or three days
I haven't half realized how much the strain was taking out of
me! I'll wager I'll sleep, tonight, after I once have the satisfaction
of seeing the first train roll in!"

By six o'clock Tom felt as though he could hardly stand up. Be
wondered if his teeth were really chattering, or whether he merely
imagined it.

To take up his time Tom tried a brisk canter, away from the railroad.
At seven o'clock he rode into Lineville.

"Tom, Tom!", bawled Harry, from the centre of a group of workmen.
"We've been looking for you! Come here quickly!"

Tom urged his pony forward to the station from which Hazelton had
called him.

"Watch this---just watch it!" begged Harry.

Clank! clank! clank! Tom Reade, gazing in fascination, saw
the last spike of the last rail being driven into place.

"Two sidetracks and switches already up!" called Harry.

Tom threw his bridle to one of the workmen, then sprang from his
horse. Out of the station came Mr. Newnham, waving a telegram.

"Our first train, with passengers, has just left the station at
Brand's Ranch junction, a hundred and ten miles away," shouted
the president of the road. "The train should be here long before
ten o'clock."

From the crowd a cheer greeted the announcement.

"There's nothing left but to wait to win," continued Mr. Newnham.

Five hundred voices in the crowd cheered the announcement. A
group of five Denver politicians smiled sardonically.

Tom pushed his way gently through the crowd, glancing inside the
station. There was no one there, save an operator. Closing the
door behind him, Tom crossed to a seat and sank wearily upon it.

Here he sat for some minutes, to be discovered by the telegraph
operator when the latter came out to light the lamps in the waiting
room.

"Mr. Reade is all in, I guess," thought the operator. "I don't
wonder. I hope he goes to sleep where he sits."

Ten minutes later the receiver of one of the up the terminal station.
The operator broke in, sending back his response. Then a telegram
came, which he penned on paper.

"Mr. Reade," called the operator, "this is for you."

Tom sat up, brushing his eyes, and read:

"If you can spare time wish you would ride down track to point
about two miles west of Miller's where brook crosses under roadbed.
Have something to show you that will interest you. Nothing serious