Clinging perilously on the bumper, he reached with his
foot, got his toe under the lever on the side, jerked it upward, and
threw the pin out of the coupling; then with his free hand he swung
the axe and drove the great steel jaws of the coupling apart.
The caboose was cut out! But already the deadly curve was in sight;
in two minutes the first truck would reach it; and the caboose,
though cut loose, had to be stopped, else with the headway it had
gathered, it, too, would follow the logging-trucks to glory.
For a moment Bryce clung to the brake-rod, weak and dizzy from the
effects of the blow when, leaping down from the loaded truck to the
caboose bumper, his face had smashed into the front of the caboose.
His chin was bruised, skinned, and bloody; his nose had been broken,
and twin rivulets of blood ran from his nostrils. He wiped it away,
swung his axe, drove the blade deep into the bumper and left it there
with the haft quivering; turning, he climbed swiftly up the narrow
iron ladder beside the brake-rod until he reached the roof; then,
still standing on the ladder, he reached the brake-wheel and drew it
promptly but gradually around until the wheel-blocks began to bite,
when he exerted his tremendous strength to the utmost and with his
knees braced doggedly against the front of the caboose, held the
wheel.
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