better than we do. If they get ahead of us and have a little time to do
it in they will certainly tear up the tracks."

"I think you are right in all respects," said Colonel Newcomb. "But it
is obvious that we must not give them time to destroy the road ahead of
us. As for the rest, I wonder."

He pulled uneasily at his short beard, and then he caught sight of
Sergeant Whitley standing silently, arms folded, by the side of the
engine. Newcomb, the miner colonel, was a man of big and open mind.
A successful business man, he had the qualities which made him a good
general by the time the war was in its third year. He knew Whitley and
he knew, too, that he was an old army regular, bristling with experience
and shrewdness.

"Sergeant Whitley," he said, "in this emergency what would you do,
if you were in my place?"

The sergeant saluted respectfully.

"If I were in your place, sir, which I never will be," he replied,
"I would have all the troops leave the train. Then I would have the
engineers take the train forward slowly, while the troops marched on
either side of it, but at a sufficient distance to be hidden in the
darkness. Then, sir, our men could not be caught in a wreck, but with
their feet on solid earth they would be ready, if need be, for a fight,
which is our business."

"Well spoken, Sergeant Whitley," said Colonel Newcomb, while the other
officers also nodded approval. "Your plan is excellent and we will