In an instant my senses were flogged into a stupendous state of excitement, and my eyes must have bulged when I looked again at the blackened pad and then at the pencil point that had been blown off as though it had itself exploded. Then I thought of that crazy, love-sick Gus who had been driving nails into the case, and I sickened. Surely there is a Divine Providence that protects fools at least. Hiram had scratched matches against that case!

My knees shook and my hand trembled, and I do not think I could have uttered a sound. I looked for Strong. He was just coming out of the quarry office. I took one long step to rush back to the station, but saw the locomotive approaching, laboring hard with its immense load and throwing clouds of black smoke from its stack that slowly expanded into an immense dirigible in the still, sluggish atmosphere.

Should the conductor fling his report in at the window fastened to a spike or a piece of granite and hit that case of dynamite—what would happen? This had been done many times, and nothing occurred, but the law of average must prevail in due time. A sickening sensation took possession of me, and I became as rigid as stone. I felt as though ten pounds of lead was in the pit of my stomach; my mind was filled with monstrous forebodings, for one hundred persons were within easy range of that case of explosive—including Anna Bell. I could not prevent Hiram's arrest and trial for criminal negligence if the facts became known. But Gus was the culprit, if any one.

As I looked back, Hiram was approaching. Somehow I did not want to tell him. It seemed unnecessary, and I could save him that much apprehension. I must have looked strange to him when he came up to where I stood as one ossified. He took hold of my arm, and said fraternally: "Come on, Ben; you look as white as if you had seen a ghost." But I could not move. I only stared at the passing train.

Hiram plucked my sleeve. "Ben, you look as though you were standing before a firing squad—just as I must have looked when the Gold-Beater told me to 'git up and git.'"

I could only raise my hand warningly and stare at the passing train. It seemed to me the longest train I ever knew one locomotive to haul, and though it was moving at least twenty miles per hour it appeared to creep.

I raised my hand to my forehead and found it dripping with perspiration; Hiram grabbed my shoulders with both hands and shook me.

"Ben, have you gone stark mad?"

I had forgotten he was there and scarcely heard or felt him. I saw the way-car emerge from the trees and approach the station. I could not help raising my arm and point that way and did not lower it until we were both thrown violently to the ground.

It is useless to try to describe the crashing of the intonation on my ears. I thought my hearing was destroyed. Before the concussion threw us prone there was a fleeting impression of a dense red flame that came from the station. The instant the way-car passed it was lifted from the track. I afterward learned it was detached from the cars ahead and rolled over twice.

The man who said there are words to describe everything groveled in ignorance. I saw Hiram running toward the station; he fairly flew, his legs moving rapidly as though motor-driven. I saw he did not even relax his speed when he ran around the deep hole where the station had stood a few moments before, but continued to D. R. Morgan's store and beyond that to the residence—or maybe he was going to the river to do as he had advised the love-sick Gus. I only know what he told me about it afterward. How the conductor and rear brakeman, after being rattled about in the way-car as dice in a box, escaped with only bruises and cuts was a wonder to me, and when I finally learned that the fatalities were confined to a team of mules forced through the front of Morgan's store, my relief was immense.

Gus escaped from the Morgan house in his night shirt, and ran down under the river bank, cowering and cringing, along with most of the black population. It was difficult to convince him he could go back to bed in safety. The darkies eventually realized that it was not Gabriel's last call, and were coaxed away from the protecting bank to help remove the mules from the front of Morgan's wrecked store.

When Hiram returned from the Morgan residence he was fairly composed. He came to me at once.

"This is pretty bad business; was any one killed?" he asked, bracing himself.

"No, but it is a marvel."

"They will blame me?"

"Yes, likely, at first. Make no statement to any one. Was your safe locked? How about cash and station records?"

"Yes, it is always locked; kept everything there since Gus acted luny; but hasn't it been destroyed?"

"We'll go and see."

The hole where once stood the depot would easily contain a freight house and more. Rails of the main track were ripped up and twisted as though made of wheat straw. We found the safe apparently intact, sticking out of the dÉbris.

Railroad tickets were scattered about like fallen leaves. When he found his ticket stamp he was greatly relieved and almost laughed. How had he suddenly acquired such fortitude and acumen? Was it the Gold-Beater's blood unleashed by work and decent living? When we found parts of the new typewriter he laughed grimly, tossing his head backward.

I thought it best for Hiram that he should not know how it happened until after he was grilled, as I knew he would soon be.

The Yazoo railroad did one thing quickly and well. In less than an hour they had a wrecker on the job, and by utilizing the outside track had established a detour which let Superintendent Kitchell's "special" through from the north.

The wrecker reached into the dÉbris with its long steel arm, picked up the safe, and swung it into the superintendent's car. He told Hiram and Gus they were relieved, and to come with him to New Orleans.

Hiram obeyed the order without a murmur, but nevertheless took plenty of time to pack all of his belongings. He seemed to know he was through in Quarrytown. I suspected he was rather deliberate in bidding the Morgan family good-by, taking some time to do it, and was apparently much excited and flushed when he boarded the superintendent's car and waved a cordial good-by to a girlish figure who stood in front of the Morgan store waving back at him.