Ralph half fell between the levers. He felt that his face must be the color of chalk. His strength was entirely spent. He still grasped the levers, hanging there for a moment like a person about to faint.
Fortunately there was no call for switch tower service during the ensuing minute or two. Ralph tried to rally his dazed senses, to comprehend what was going on below.
For again a swishing, cracking, clattering sound rang out. This time it was followed by a curdling cry of pain.
"You'll blind me—you're tearing my hair out by the roots!" screamed a voice which Ralph instantly recognized.
It belonged to Mort Bemis. Ralph began to have a coherent suspicion as to the cause of his recent helplessness.
"I'll tear twenty-six dollars out of you, or I'll have your hide!" proclaimed strident feminine tones.
"I hain't got no money."
"You'll get it for me. What, strike me with that piece of wire! You wretch, I'll"
There was a jangling crash, as of some heavy body thrown back against the lever cables in the lower story of the switch tower.
Then its door crashed open, and glancing
