Not a wink of sleep for him that night.

The darkness had lightened somewhat more.

The black of the skies had turned to a dusky blue, and the bolder stars were out.

He could always see the shining rails three or four hundred yards ahead, and he sent his train steadily forward at full speed, winding among the gorges and rattling over the trestles.

The silent mountains gave back every sound in dying echoes, but Canby paid no heed to them.