There was a low, menacing growl from the men and they edged in close. But Holman gave them no heed; he took a step nearer Rafferty, looking straight into the other's eyes.
"Rafferty," he said quietly, "you've a wife and kids, haven't you? And you're a railroad man, aren't you? Well, there's wives and kids and mates up there in that wreck. The other affair can wait until we get back. Now, will you go?"
And Rafferty went—at the head of the wreckers—out into the yard where the switching crew were working like beavers making up the relief train. Two passenger coaches to serve as ambulances, behind them a flat, then the wrecking crane, the tool car, and a caboose. As Rafferty was piling his men into the train, Holman raced across the tracks to the station. On the platform the doctors, hastily summoned, were crowded around Carleton. Holman stopped beside them. "We're all ready, Carleton," he announced; then to the others: "You fellows had better get aboard; we'll be off as soon as we get the track."
"Spence will have the line clear in a minute," said Carleton, as the doctors started for the coaches. "I'm sending a dispatcher up with you; he can tap in on the wires. How many men did you scrape up?"
"The regular crew."
"And Rafferty?"
"He's going along."
"I don't know how you did it, and there's no time for explanations now; but I think, Holman, you'd better leave Rafferty behind."
