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Updated: May 6, 2025
Gridley was the man who stole the switch-engine and ran it over the old Wire-Silver spur to the mine to sell it to Flemister for his mine power-plant they've got it boxed up and running there, right now. Gridley is the man who has made all this strike trouble, bossing the job to get you out and to get himself in, so he could cover up his thieveries.
Now I'm going to send a man over to snoop around Pennington's roundhouse and verify his report about the switch-engine being in the shop." He did so. Half an hour later the messenger returned with the information that not only was the switch-engine not in the shop but her fire-box had been overhauled the week before and was reported to be in excellent condition.
"Why not switch back with the mogul after the logtrain has been hauled out on the main line?" Bryce demanded pointedly. Pennington, however, was not trapped. "My dear fellow," he replied patronizingly, "quite impossible, I assure you. That old trestle across the creek, my boy it hasn't been looked at for years. While I'd send the light switch-engine over it and have no fears "
There were practically no lights at all beyond the platform except those in the roundhouse, too far away to be seen, but the operator saw the moving head-light of the switch-engine and hastened across the slippery tracks toward it.
In the round-house he found the switch-engine crew on duty, waiting for steam in the boiler. The withdrawal of both locomotives, brief as had been their absence, had caused a glut of logs at the Laguna Grande landings, and Sexton was catching up with the traffic by sending the switch-engine crew out for one train-load, even though it was Sunday.
Thirdly, there is the theory that the subconscious mind is composed entirely of dissociated or split-off ideas ideas which have been dissociated or split off from the main stream of consciousness, much as a few freight cars might be shunted on to a side track by the switch-engine.
On the windows their own reflections were cast in transparent films of light. Each wraith watched the other, seeming to read the mood and need no speech. Dyckman's mind kept shuttling over and over the same rails of thought, like a switch-engine eternally shunting cars from one track to another. His very temples throbbed with the clickety-click of the train.
"See to it, Rondeau, that they do not leave until I give the word. Understand? Cardigan's woods-boss will call you up and ask you to send a switch-engine tip to snake them out late this afternoon or to- morrow afternoon. Tell him the switch-engine is in the shop for repairs or is busy at other work anything that will stall him off and delay delivery."
"There was one little thing that I forgot to put in the report: when you get ready to take that missing switch-engine back, you'll find it choo-chooin' away up yonder in Flemister's new power-house that he's built out of boards made from Mr. Benson's bridge-timbers." "Is that so? Did you see the engine?" queried the superintendent quickly. "No, but I might as well have.
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