"Fairbanks," shot out the fireman, all fire and energy, "I'll get 999 ready for your orders," and he was out into the roundhouse after the foreman in a flash.
"Mr. Grant, you're taking a long chance," suggested the division superintendent, coming up to where the president and Ralph stood.
"Yes, and it must be any chances, Fairbanks," said the official. He was becoming more and more excited each succeeding minute. "I'm too old a railroader not to know what the run means. If you start, no flinching. It's life or death to the Mountain Division, what you do this night."
"The Mountain Division?" repeated Ralph, mystified.
"Yes. It's an official secret, but I trusted you once. I can trust you now." Mr. Grant drew a folded paper from his pocket. "The president of the Midland Central is on the Night Express, returning from the west. The document I show you must be signed before he reaches the city, before midnight, or we lose the right to run over the Mountain Division. If he once reaches the city, interests adverse to the Great Northern will influence him to repudiate the contract, which only awaits his signature to make it valid. He will sign it if I can intercept him. Can you make
