"Anything else?" asked the operator. "Want me to run out and get you a
cigar, or a bottle of perfume, or anything?"
"Then there is just one thing to do," said Prince abruptly. "I'll have
to flag the first train and get her aboard."
"What! You can't do it. You don't dare do it. It is against the law
to flag a train on private business."
"I know it. So I am asking you to make it the railroad's business. I
am warning you in advance. Where are the fuses?"
The operator helplessly called up the superintendent once more.
"What the dickens do you want now?"
"It's that nut on the line," explained the operator. "He wants
something else."
"Yes, I want to know where the fuses are so I can flag the first train
that comes. Or I will just set the tool house afire; that will stop
them."
"The fuses are in the lock box under the phone. Break the lock, or
pick it. Let us know if you get in all right. How the dickens did you
get a woman out there a night like this?"
But Prince had no time to explain. "Thanks, old man, you're pretty
white," he said, and clasped the receiver on to the hook. A little
later, with the precious fuses in his pocket, he was fighting his way
through the snow back to Connie, lying unconscious in the white
blankets which no longer chilled her.
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