He was going to make it.
When the black front of a gravel car leaped out of the gloom he jumped off the track.

The locomotive pushed the cars, the train was long, and the lamp was but a few yards off.

It had not gone out, although the flame had sunk to a faint red jet that would not be seen in the dust.
His hands shook, but he gave the pump a few strokes and turned the valve wheel.

The red jet got white and leaped higher and Lister, pumping hard, looked up the track.

Big cars, rocking and banging, rushed past in a cloud of dust.