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Updated: June 16, 2025
The Transcontinental engine, tender, baggage car, two coaches and a sleeper, had gone to the devil. Those, in his excitement, where his first words. From fifty to a hundred were dead. Gunn almost swore Billinger's next words to the line. It was not an accident! Human hands had torn up three sections of rail. The same human hands had rolled a two-ton boulder in the right of way.
He struggled to calm himself under the questioning gaze of Billinger's eyes. He laughed, wound the hair carefully about his fingers, and put it in his coat pocket. "You you have given me a shock," he said, straining to keep his voice even. "I'm glad you had foresight enough to keep the lock of hair, Billinger. At first I jumped to a conclusion.
Philip picked it up a dainty bit of fine linen, crumpled and sodden by dew, and held it out between the forefinger and thumb of both hands. "Yes, and a woman's handkerchief. Now what the devil " He stopped at the look in Billinger's face as he reached down for the handkerchief. The square jaws of the man were set like steel springs, but Philip noticed that his hand was trembling.
He shuddered, and Philip shuddered, at the wailing sound of grief and pain that came up to them. "It'll be a loss of time to go down," repeated the agent. "Yes, it would be a loss of time," agreed Philip. His blood was burning at fever heat when he raised his eyes from the scene below to Billinger's face.
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