suppose," explained Ralph, with affected indifference.
"I wouldn't take him for a very pleasant comrade at any time," observed Clark. "It's a wonder he don't take a tumble. There he is, hitching around to the pilot. What for, I wonder?"
Ralph was not paying much attention to what the cab passenger was saying. He had made up five minutes, and his quick mind was now planning how he would gain five more, and then double that, to Plympton and beyond it.
He gave the whistle for Plympton, as, shooting a curve, No. 999 drove a clattering pace down the grade with the lights of the station not a quarter-of-a-mile away. They were set for clear tracks, as they should be. Ralph gave the lever a hitch for a rattling dash on ten miles of clear running. Then fairly up to the first station semaphore, he broke out with a cry so sharp and dismayed that young Clark echoed it in questioning excitement.
"The siding!" cried Ralph, with a jerk of the lever—"what's the meaning of this?"
"Say!" echoed Clark, in a startled tone, "that's quick and queer!"
What had happened was this: No. 999 going at full speed on clear signals had been sent to a siding and the signals cancelled without a mo-
