giant locomotive swung out into the heart of a driving tempest.
The foreman directed their movements to a track where a plug engine had just backed in with a light caboose car. There was no air brake attachment and the coupling was done quickly.
"All ready," reported Ralph, as Mr. Grant came up with the division superintendent.
The railroad president stepped to the platform of the caboose, spoke a few words to his recent companion in parting, and waved his hand signal-like for the start.
Fogg had been over the Shelby division several times, only once, however, on duty. He knew its "bad spots," and he tried to tell his engineer about them as they steamed off the main track.
"There's just three stations the whole stretch," he reported, "and the tracks are clear—that's one good point."
"Yes, it is only obstruction and breakdowns we have to look out for," said Ralph. "Give us plenty of steam, Mr. Fogg."
"There's heaps of fuel—a good six tons," spoke the fireman. "My! but the stack pulls like a blast furnace."
The cab curtains were closely fastened. It was a terrible night. The snow came in sheets like birdshot, a half-sleet that stung like hail as it cut
