but his hair was tousled on his head in a sort of humorous impatience of convention; his gray eyebrows winged up from his nose fiercely; his mouth, between heavy wrinkles, was hung with as many muscles as a great Dane's; his eyes were keen blue under lids that sagged down toward their outer corners.
The lieutenant took their glinting challenge without a blink.
He went on again: "All Cincinnati was down in the yards, asking questions in the dark and crowding on the tracks. They started us off with a whoop, shouting to us as we pulled out. We put on steam till we got clear of them. Then we slowed down and crawled up the track, ten miles an hour—as quiet as we could—no headlight, not a light on the train. It was dark. We could n't see at all, and it did n't take long for the excitement to leak away and leave us anxious. It had been hot in town; it was cooler out on the line. That made a difference. Felt chilly.
"There was an officer of some sort in the cab with us, and he was all on edge because his artillery was tied up on flat cars and his men cooped up in coaches; and if Morgan derailed the train and swooped down on us— Well, it took us three-quarters of an hour to make Carthage, and that gentleman was fretting all the way, with his hands tied behind him. I don't doubt he was a good fighter. Don't doubt it. But this sort of thing was like running past the block signals when you have to make time and don't know whether you 'll bump into the train ahead or not. It 's a thing
