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THE MASTER MECHANIC
51

crowds in the distance, as the intrepid occupants, of the cab disappeared like lost spirits.

Only for the shelter of the cab roof, they would have been deluged with burning sparks.

A tongue of flame took Griscom across the side of his face, and he uttered an angry yell—it seemed to madden him that he could not see clearly. Then as they struck the car they were making for with a heavy thump, the shock and a spasm of weakness drove Griscom from the cushion, and he slipped to the floor of the cab.

Ralph's mind grasped the situation in all its details. He knew the engineer's purpose, and he felt that it was incumbent on him to carry it out if he could do so. He stepped over his recumbent companion, and placed his hand on the lever.

He could not now see ten feet ahead. They were in the very vortex of the fire. Suddenly they shot into the clear, cool air, bracing as a shower bath.

The cab roof was smoking, the cab floor was paved with burning cinders, and some oil waste was blazing back among the coal at the edge of the tender.

Ahead, the top and sides of the powder car were sheeted with flames, which the swift forward movement drove back in shroud-like form.

On the end of the car facing, the grim, black