through the windows Ralph saw Mort Bemis dash into view.
He sped across tracks as if for his life. He was hatless, his face was streaked with red welts. From one hand trailed a piece of insulated electric light wire.
Giving a frightened backward glance as he reached a line of freights, the ex-towerman leaped the space between two cars and disappeared from view.
From the lower story of the switch tower there now issued exclamations of rage and disgust.
Ralph started to look down the ladder trap. Just then the dial called for a switch, and duty temporarily curbed his interest and curiosity. As he set clear tracks again, a head obtruded through the trapdoor.
It was that of the resolute woman Ralph had noticed a little time past so audaciously crossing the rails and defying instructions. Her face was red and heated, her eyes flashing. Her hair was in disorder, and the poke bonnet was all awry.
"Be careful—don't fall, madam," said Ralph quickly, with inborn chivalry and politeness, springing to the trap.
He put out a hand to help her. She disdained his assistance with an impatient sniff, and cleared the ladder like an expert.
