3 2 ° 
THE STRAND MAGAZINE. 
“‘LORD! I SEE HER, BILL,’ HE CRIED 
Westinghouse brake ; the engine whistled 
twice to the brakesman to put on all brakes. 
1 reversed the gear and we slid round the 
curve to the right, slackening steadily, round 
again to the left — the worst bit on the line 
— then we stopped altogether, with the river 
howling and surging not sixty yards in front. 
“ What was it, Bill ? ” Jack muttered. “ It 
warn’t nothin’ human, it was too big, but it 
waved us down — right enough.” 
The engine stopped with a slight jerk. I 
could hear raised voices, then feet pattering 
on the line. They were coming with sharp, 
angry questions, and there was nothing ahead 
to account for my mad action ; nothing any- 
where but the white swirl of the fog and the 
luminous glow of our head-lights. 
“ What’s up there with you, Bill Summers ? 
You almost stopped before. Is anything 
wrong with the engine, or what’s ahead of us ? 
The inspector dashed up, covered with mois- 
ture, and stood on the line in a blazing temper. 
“ What’s up ? ” he roared. 
“ Nothing with the engine. Someone 
waved us down, sir,” I said, quietly. 
He would only call me drunk if I told him 
the exact truth. 
“ Someone — what ! ” He swung into the 
cab, snarling. “ Waved you down out here, 
with no one within fifty miles — impos- 
sible ! You’re mad, Summers,” he sniffed, 
aggressively. 
“ I seen it, too, sir,” said greaser Jack. 
“ Waved us down hard, just back here.’' 
