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Updated: May 15, 2025
The engineer was signalled and stopped on a curve with the point of his pilot on a high bridge. This time the captain and the engineer were not so brittle of temper. They discussed the matter, calling on the fireman, who had heard nothing, being busy in the coal-tank. The head brakeman, crossing himself, said it was the "unseen hand" that had been stopping the Limited on the Desert.
The line was clear as far as Indian Creek; but up there somewhere they would have to take the siding for the first section of the Limited, eastbound. With a glance at the indicator and the guages, the fireman jerked a blackened thumb over his shoulder towards the coal-tank. Macdonald shook his head. "We'll fill her at Number Seven," he shouted.
Bathed in the blinding light, the fireman stood for a space, swinging his scoop with pendulum precision from fire-box to coal-tank and back again; then the whole scene went out suddenly. Engineer Macdonald, leaning out over his armrest, chafed at the delay as he choked her head for the Spruce Valley grade.
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