“Faster, faster!” rang out the whirring wheels as they spun over the gleaming track, and “Faster, faster, faster!” echoed the rails of steel.
The eastern sky was aglow with rosy light. The sun had nearly climbed to the mountain tops. Still he might be in time. If only he could get on a little faster! If only his muscles were steel and his lungs filled with steam!
But what is that ahead? A dark space in the shining track. A rail gone. Myles sprang to the brake. Its iron shoe ground fire from the iron wheel. The headlong speed of the car was slackened, but not enough. It could not stop before the danger-point was reached. Then came a crash, and Myles was flung forward on the hard road-bed.
Bruised and sadly shaken, but with unbroken bones, he picked himself up and turned to look at the wreck. The car also seemed shaken, but, to his surprise, it was still whole and serviceable. There was yet hope if he only could get it over this place and again on the track. His excitement lent him strength, and by a mighty effort he accomplished that which, under ordinary circumstances, two men would have found difficult.
[Illustration: THE CAR PLUNGED FORWARD, TURNED COMPLETELY OVER, AND CRUSHED POOR MYLES BENEATH IT. (_Page 213._)]
Once more the car was ready for its onward flight. As it started Myles heard shouts, and, looking back, saw men running and beckoning to him. At the same moment he heard the far-away whistle of a locomotive ahead of him. He bent to the crank, and in another minute his pursuers lost sight of the car and the one straining figure that it bore.
Now it approached the Horseshoe curve. Yes, Myles remembered the place perfectly. The track looked all right. The sun had risen and he could see the line plainly. Perhaps the place from which the rails were torn was the trap, and he had passed it. Perhaps he was on hand and with time to spare.
Suddenly the rails of the track seemed to give from under him. The car plunged forward, turned completely over, and crushed poor Myles beneath it in such a manner that he was powerless to move. As he lay there he heard, loud, clear, and close at hand, the shrill whistle and the roar of an approaching train.
THE speed at which Myles was going when the accident happened was so great that both he and the hand-car were flung clear off the track. They landed in a pile of soft earth, but, as already related, Myles lay beneath the car with his arms so pinned down by it that he was perfectly helpless and unable to move. As he lay there half-stunned, and panting for breath after his recent exertions, the roar of the approaching train grew louder and louder, until it seemed close upon him. He could hear the labored puffing of the locomotive as it toiled up the long grade. Now it came so distinctly that he knew the head of the train had rounded the sharp curve and was in sight of the place where he lay.