At last ten o’clock came, bringing with it a sound which startled the near-by camp into activity.  It was a shrill blast from an S. R. & N. locomotive and the grinding of car-wheels.  The accordion ceased its complaint, men poured out of the lighted tents, Appleton moved cautiously out from cover.

He stumbled forward through the knee-deep mud and moss, bearing slightly to his right, counting upon the confusion to mask his approach.  He timed it to that of the gravel-train, which came slowly creaking nearer, rocking over the uneven tracks, then down upon the half-submerged rails which terminated near the opposing grade.  It stopped finally, with headlight glaring into the faces of Denny and his troops, and from the high-heaped flat cars tumbled an army of pick-and-shovel men.  During this hullabaloo Appleton slipped out of the marsh and climbed the gravel-bed in time to see the steel cable of the skip tighten, carrying the drag swiftly along the track.  The endless cable propelling the contrivance ran through a metal block which was secured to a deadhead sunk between the ties, and up to this post Dan hastened.  He carried a cold-chisel and hammer, but he found no use for them, for the pulley was roped to the deadhead.  Drawing his knife, he sawed at the manila strands.  Men were all around him, but in their excitement they took no notice of him.  Not until he had nearly completed his task was he discovered; then some one raised a shout.  The next instant they charged upon him, but his work had been done.  With a snap the ropes parted, the cable went writhing and twisting up the track, the unwieldy apparatus came to a stop.

Dan found himself beset by a half-dozen of the enemy, who, having singled him out of the general confusion as the cause of disaster, came at him head-long.  But by this time O’Neil’s men were pouring out of the darkness and overrunning the grade so rapidly that there was little opportunity for concerted action.  Appleton had intended, as soon as he had cut the cable, to beat a hasty retreat into the marsh; but now, with the firm gravel road-bed under his feet and the battle breaking before his eyes, he changed his mind.  He carried a light heart, and the love of trouble romped through his veins.  He lowered his head, therefore, and ran toward his assailants.

He met the foremost one fairly and laid him out.  He vanquished the second, then closed with a burly black man who withstood him capably.  They went down together, and Dan began to repent his haste, for blows rained upon him and he became the target, not only of missiles of every kind, but of heavy hobnailed shoes that were more dangerous than horses’ hoofs.

The engineer dearly loved a fair fight, even against odds, but this was entirely different:  he was trampled, stamped upon, kicked; he felt himself being reduced to a pulp beneath the overpowering numbers of those savage heels.  The fact that the black man received an equal share of the punishment was all that saved Dan.  Over and over between the ties the two rolled, scorning no advantage, regarding no rules of combat, each striving to protect himself at the other’s expense.