What was the matter? It takes some little time to bring a
train to a standstill when it is running at over 70 miles an hour; and
there was still good headway on when we slid past a man who yet held a
red flag in his hand. Evidently he had signalled the engineer to stop.
But why? Windows were thrown up, and before the train had stopped,
heads were thrust out. The engineer climbed down from his cab.
From the rear platform the passengers poured out, until only the
time-keepers were left on the train, sitting watch in hand to catch
the exact record of the stop and the start. And already, before his
voice could be heard, the man with the flag was brandishing his arms
in the signal to "go ahead;" and no one cared to stop to question him.
The stop was short--only a few seconds over two minutes, but the good
headway of 70 miles an hour was lost; and as the wheels moved again,
it was a sullen and dispirited party on the train. Just as the hope
of winning our uphill fight had begun to grow strong, precious minutes
had been lost; and for what reason none could guess.
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