“Reade!” called the president of the S.B. & L., stopping his car, and Tom went over to him.

“The suspense is over, at last, Reade,” exclaimed Mr. Newnham, smiling broadly.  “Look! the road is all but completed.  Hundreds of men are toiling.  The first train left Stormburg this morning.  By seven tonight you’ll have the last rails in place.  Between eight and nine this evening the first through train will have rolled into Lineville and we shall have won the fight that has brought me many gray hairs.  At last the worry is over!”

“Of course, sir,” nodded Tom.

“Reade, don’t you really believe that the stress is over—–­that we shall triumph tonight?”

“Of course we shall, sir,” Tom responded.  “I have predicted, all along, that we’d have the road through in time, haven’t I?”

“And the credit is nearly all yours, Reade,” admitted Mr. Newnham gleefully.  “Nearly all yours, lad!”

Honk! honk!  Unable to remain long at one spot, Mr. Newnham started his car again.

Reade felt a depression that he could not shake off.

“It’s just the reaction following the long train,” Tom tried to tell himself.  “Whew!  Until within the last two or three days I haven’t half realized how much the strain was taking out of me!  I’ll wager I’ll sleep, tonight, after I once have the satisfaction of seeing the first train roll in!”

By six o’clock Tom felt as though he could hardly stand up.  Be wondered if his teeth were really chattering, or whether he merely imagined it.

To take up his time Tom tried a brisk canter, away from the railroad.  At seven o’clock he rode into Lineville.

“Tom, Tom!”, bawled Harry, from the centre of a group of workmen.  “We’ve been looking for you!  Come here quickly!”

Tom urged his pony forward to the station from which Hazelton had called him.

“Watch this—–­just watch it!” begged Harry.

Clank! clank! clank!  Tom Reade, gazing in fascination, saw the last spike of the last rail being driven into place.

“Two sidetracks and switches already up!” called Harry.

Tom threw his bridle to one of the workmen, then sprang from his horse.  Out of the station came Mr. Newnham, waving a telegram.

“Our first train, with passengers, has just left the station at Brand’s Ranch junction, a hundred and ten miles away,” shouted the president of the road.  “The train should be here long before ten o’clock.”

From the crowd a cheer greeted the announcement.

“There’s nothing left but to wait to win,” continued Mr. Newnham.

Five hundred voices in the crowd cheered the announcement.  A group of five Denver politicians smiled sardonically.

Tom pushed his way gently through the crowd, glancing inside the station.  There was no one there, save an operator.  Closing the door behind him, Tom crossed to a seat and sank wearily upon it.