Part 36 (1/2)

”Matter! Why, Norfolk is the last stop between that train and the bridge!

She'll be down here in twenty minutes! And even if we can get someone across the bridge immediately, how can they flag her in that wall of mist?” Hopelessly he pointed where on the farther sh.o.r.e the tracks were completely hidden in the blanket of white vapor. ”And there's no time to send down torpedoes.”

At the thought of the train rus.h.i.+ng upon the broken span, and plunging from sight in the whirling flood below, Alex felt the blood draw back from his own face.

”But we will try something! We must try something!” he cried.

At that moment the office door opened and Division Superintendent Cameron appeared. ”Good morning, boys,” he said genially. ”I'm quite an early bird this morning, eh? Came down to meet the wife and children. They're getting in from their vacation by Forty-six.

”Why, Allen, what is the matter?”

The chief swayed back against the window-ledge. ”One of the bridge spans--has just gone,” he responded thickly, ”and Forty-six--pa.s.sed Norfolk!”

The superintendent stared blankly a moment, started forward, then staggered back into a chair. But in another instant he was on his feet, pallid, but cool. ”Well, what are you doing to stop her?” he demanded sharply.

The chief pulled himself together. ”It only happened this moment, sir.

The man at the yard tower just reported. One of the western spans was struck by something. Only the upper-structure is hanging,” he says.

”Can't you send someone over on foot, with a flag, or torpedoes?”

”There are no torpedoes at the bridge house, and there's not time to send them down. As to flagging--look at the mist over the whole valley bottom,” said the despatcher pointing. ”Except directly opposite, where the wind between the hills breaks it up at times, the engineer couldn't see three feet ahead of him.”

The superintendent gripped his hands convulsively. Suddenly he turned to Alex. ”Ward, can't you suggest something?” he appealed. ”You have always shown resource in emergencies.”

”I have been trying to think of something, sir. But, as the chief says, even if we could get a man across the bridge, what could he do? I was down by the river yesterday morning, and the haze was like a blind wall.”

”Couldn't a fire be built on the tracks?”

”Not quickly enough, sir. Everything is soaking wet.”

The superintendent strode up and down helplessly. ”And of course it had to happen after the Riverside Park station had closed for the season,” he said bitterly. ”If we had had an operator there we--”

The interruption was a cry from Alex. ”I've something! Oil!”

He dashed for the tower wire.

”What? What's that?” cried the superintendent, running after.

”Oil on a pile of ties, or anything, sir--providing Orr can get over the bridge,” Alex explained hurriedly as he whirled off the letters of Jack's call. The official dropped into the chair beside him.

”I, I, TR,” answered Jack.

”OR, have you any oil in the tower?” shot Alex.

”No, but there's some in the lamp-shed just below.”

”Look here, could you possibly get across the bridge?”

”I might manage it. There is a rail bicycle in the lamp-house. If the rails are hanging together perhaps I could shoot over with that. Why?”