He went to the waiting engine in front of a long row of ballast cars, on which a big gravel plough loomed faintly in the dark.
"Who's on board ?" he asked.
A man he knew looked out from the cab window.
"Hallo, Mr.Lister! I'm on board with Jake.

We're going to Malcolm cut for gravel.

Washout's mixed things; operator reckoned he could rush us through--" "Then you'll stop and get water at the tank," Lister interrupted.

"Will you make it before the East-bound comes along ?" "We ought to make it half-an-hour ahead.

Wires all right that way.
Nothing's on the road." Lister turned to the girl.