Ralph watched it intently. That dial disc was his only present reliable communication with the outside railroad world. The pointer vibrated, then halted.
"Through freight, track 7," it directed.
"Why, exclaimed Ralph, "that can't be! The through freight is stalled at Acton behind the express, and—why, she's coming now!"
He could hardly believe his eyes. Usually a minute and a half elapsed before a train announced at the limits showed coming around the curve.
Now, boring the water-laden air with a quiver that showed full speed, a great laboring headlight glared along the in tracks.
Had Ralph caught her sooner, he could have switched onto any one of the half a dozen tracks which were empty. She was now past all the main switches, however, except the in passenger track 7 and inside 6.
"It is No. 3, the through freight, sure enough," said Ralph, recognizing the approaching train with the intuitive sense of experience. The headlight, the sway of the ponderous locomotive, the very sound of the long train, vague as it was, told a sure story to his practiced eye and ear.
"She must have got around the wash-out and ahead of the express," said Ralph. "Why,
