The heel of her pretty, foolish shoe caught in a crevice of the switch. She could not pull it loose. “Barney — Barney!” she called in alarm. Barney turned — saw her predicament — saw her ashen face — dashed back. He tried to pull her clear — he tried to wrench her foot from the prisoning hold. In vain. In a moment the train would sweep around the curve — would be on them.

“Go — go — quick — you’ll be killed, Barney!” shrieked Valancy, trying to push him away.

Barney dropped on his knees, ghost-white, frantically tearing at her shoe-lace. The knot defied his trembling fingers. He snatched a knife from his pocket and slashed at it. Valancy still strove blindly to push him away. Her mind was full of the