At 12:45 they stopped for water at a solitary tank in the midst of the brown desert.  Kent got down stiffly from his cramped seat on the fireman’s box and wetted his parched lips at the nozzle of the tender hose.

“Do we make it, Jarl?” he asked.

The engineer wagged his head.

“Ay tank so.  Ve maig it all right iff dey haf bane got dose track clear.”

“There are other trains to meet?”

“Ja; two bane comin’ dis vay; ant Nummer Samteen ve pass opp by.”

Oleson dropped off to pour a little oil into the speed-woundings while the tank was filling; and presently the dizzying race began again.  For a time all things were propitious.  The two trains to be met were found snugly withdrawn on the sidings at Mavero and Agriculta, and the station semaphores beckoned the flying special past at full speed.  Kent checked off the dodging mile-posts:  the pace was bettering the fastest run ever made on the Prairie Division—­which was saying a good deal.

But at Juniberg, twenty-seven miles out of Gaston, there was a delay.  Train Number 17, the east-bound time freight, had left Juniberg at one o’clock, having ample time to make Lesterville, the next station east, before the light engine could possibly overtake it.  But Lesterville had not yet reported its arrival; for which cause the agent at Juniberg was constrained to put out his stop signal, and Kent’s special came to a stand at the platform.

Under the circumstances, there appeared to be nothing for it but to wait until the delayed Number 17 was heard from; and Kent’s first care was to report to Loring, and to ask if there were anything from Boston.

The reply was encouraging.  A complete denial of everything, signed by the proper officials, had been received and repeated to Kent at Gaston—­was there now awaiting him.  Kent saw in anticipation the nicely calculated scheme of the junto crumbling into small dust in the precise moment of fruition, and had a sharp attack of ante-triumph which he had to walk off in turns up and down the long platform.  But as the waiting grew longer, and the dragging minutes totaled the quarter-hour and then the half, he began to perspire again.

Half-past two came and went, and still there was no hopeful word from Lesterville.  Kent had speech with Oleson, watch in hand.  Would the engineer take the risk of a rear-end collision on a general manager’s order?  Oleson would obey orders if the heavens fell; and Kent flew to the wire again.  Hunnicott, at Gaston, was besought to gain time in the hearing by any and all means; and Loring was asked to authorize the risk of a rear-end smash-up.  He did it promptly.  The light engine was to go on until it should “pick up” the delayed train between stations.

The Juniberg man gave Oleson his release and the order to proceed with due care while the sounder was still clicking a further communication from headquarters.  Loring was providing for the last contingency by sending Kent the authority to requisition Number 17’s engine for the completion of the run in case the track should be blocked, with the freight engine free beyond the obstruction.