There was no one visible in the immediate vicinity of the switch tower. The unusual quietude of the yards made Ralph think of Sunday. At a little distance were many engines and freight trains standing on sidings. They were held inactive on order. Engineers and firemen lounged on their cab seats, looking down the yards north expectantly.
Ralph rounded the tower structure briskly. He pulled out his watch.
"Four minutes," he spoke, and turned into the lower doorway.
In a jiffy he would be up the ladder. A turn of the lever, and he, too, could sit down, and from his lofty point of observation leisurely watch the mile-a-minute special flash by.
Half-way across the lower tower space, Ralph checked himself.
A chill, startled sensation crept over his nerves. He halted with a shock, gave a vivid stare, and uttered a sharp gasp.
A growl had warned him. Ralph saw a bristling, sinuous form arise from the floor directly at the bottom of the ladder.
Two fire-balls seemed to glow at him with yenom and menace. In a flash the young leverman realized the situation.
Ralph Fairbanks faced the escaped tiger.
