The
result was extraordinary. The whole of the far wall was blown out and for
some distance in front the ground was furrowed up by the explosion. Quest
replaced the instrument in his pocket, sprang through the opening and ran
for the tower house. Behind him, on its way to New York, he could see a
freight train coming along. He could hear, too, Red Gallagher's roar of
anger. It was less than fifty yards, yet already, as he reached the
shelter of the tower, the thunder of the freight sounded in Quest's ears.
He glanced around. Red Gallagher and his mate were racing almost beside it
towards him. He rushed up the narrow stairs into the signal room, tearing
open his coat to show his official badge.
"Stop the freight," he shouted to the operator. "Quick! I'm Sanford Quest,
detective--special powers from the chief commissioner."
The man moved to the signal. Another voice thundered in his ears. He
turned swiftly around. The Irishman's red head had appeared at the top of
the staircase.
"Drop that signal and I'll blow you into bits!" he shouted.
The operator hesitated, dazed.
"Walk towards me," Gallagher shouted. "Look here, you guy, this'll show
you whether I'm in earnest or not!"
A bullet passed within a few inches of the operator's head. He came slowly
across the room. Below they could hear the roar of the freight.
"This ain't your job," the Irishman continued savagely. "We want the cop,
and we're going to have him."
Quest had stolen a yard or two nearer during this brief colloquy.
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