"Search me," replied Sanderson. "Looks like the Glacier was up to her old tricks. There's a washout ahead, and a bad one, I guess. But the meaning of this here is one beyond me. The fellow was curled up on the track just as you see him with the light burning alongside, that's what saved us, but he's as drunk as a lord."
As Kelly bent over the prostrate form, others of the train crew appeared on the scene. One glance he gave at Shanley's never-under-any-circumstances-to-be-forgotten homely countenance, and hastily ordered the men to go forward and investigate the washout ahead. Then he turned to the engineer.
"The man is not drunk, Sandy," said he.
"He is gloriously and magnificently drunk, Kelly," replied the engineer.
"What would he be doing here, then? He is not drunk."
"Sleeping it off. He is disgracefully drunk."
"Can ye not see the bash on his head where he must have stumbled in the dark trying to save the train and struck against the rail? He is not drunk."
"Can ye not smell?" retorted Sanderson. "He is dead drunk!"
"I have fought with him and he licked me. He is a man and a friend of mine"—Kelly shoved his lantern into Sanderson's face. "He is not drunk."
"He is not drunk," said Sanderson. "He is a hero. What will we do with him?"
"We'll carry him, you and me, over to the construction shanty, it's only a few yards, and put him in his
