Chasing an Iron Horse Part 10

Andrews arose from the bed, and solemnly shook hands with each of his four companions. Then he said, very impressively: "I am confident of the success of our enterprise, and I will either go through with it or leave my bones to bleach in 'Dixieland.' But I don't want to persuade any one against his own judgment. If any one of you thinks the scheme too dangerous--if you are convinced beforehand of its failure--you are at perfect liberty to take the train in any direction, and work your way home to the Union camp as best you can. Nor shall I have one word of reproach, either in my mind or on my lips, for a man whose prudence, or whose want of confidence in his leader, induces him to draw back."

Andrews was an adroit student of men. No speech could have better served his purpose of inducing his followers to remain with him. It was as if he declared: "You may all desert me, but _I_ will remain true to my flag."

"You can count on me to the very last," said Watson stoutly. He was always ready to face danger, but he liked to have the privilege of grumbling at times. In his heart, too, was a conviction that his leader was about to play a very desperate game. The chances were all against them.

"Thank you, Watson," answered Andrews, gratefully. "I never could doubt your bravery. And are the rest of you willing?"

There were hearty murmurs of a.s.sent from Jenks, George and Macgreggor.

Jenks and the boy were very sanguine; Macgreggor was rather skeptical as to future success, but he sternly resolved to banish all doubts from his mind.

"Well, George," said Andrews, as he was about to leave the room, "if you get through this railroad ride in safety you will have something interesting to remember all your life." In another moment he had gone. The time for action had almost arrived.

CHAPTER V

ON THE RAIL

At an early hour the next morning, just before daylight, the conspirators were standing on the platform of the Marietta station, awaiting the arrival of their train--the train which they hoped soon to call theirs in reality. They were all in civilian dress; even Walter Jenks had contrived to discard his uniform of a Confederate officer, regarding it as too conspicuous, and he was habited in an ill-fitting suit which made him look like an honest, industrious mechanic.

Andrews was pacing up and down with an anxious, resolute face. He realized that the success of the manoeuvre which they were about to execute rested upon his own shoulders, but he had no idea of flinching. "Before night has come," he was thinking confidently, "we shall be within the lines of General Mitch.e.l.l, and soon all America will be ringing with the story of our dash."

George, no less sanguine, was standing near Watson and Macgreggor, and occasionally slipping a lump of sugar into the overcoat pocket which served as a sort of kennel for the tiny Waggie. There was nothing about the party to attract undue attention. They pretended, for the most part, to be strangers one to another, and, to aid in the deception, they had bought railroad tickets for different places--for Kingston, Adairsville, Calhoun and other stations to the northward, between Marietta and Chattanooga.

Soon the train was sweeping up to the platform. It was a long one, with locomotive, tender, three baggage cars and a number of pa.s.senger cars. The adventurers clambered on it through various doors, but at last reached the pa.s.senger car nearest to the engine. Here they seated themselves quite as if each man had no knowledge of any one else. In another minute the train, which was well filled, went rolling away from Marietta and along the bend around the foot of Kenesaw Mountain. "Only eight miles," thought George, "and then----"

The conductor of the train, a young man with a very intelligent face, looked searchingly at the boy as he examined his ticket. "Too young,"

George heard him mutter under his breath, as he pa.s.sed on to the other pa.s.sengers.

A thrill of feverish excitement stirred the lad. "What did he mean by too young?" he asked himself. "Can he possibly have gotten wind of our expedition?" But the conductor did not return, and it was not until long afterwards that George was able to understand what was meant by the expression, "Too young." The man had been warned by the Confederate authorities that a number of young Southerners who had been conscripted into the army were trying to escape from service, and might use the cars for that purpose. He was ordered, therefore, to arrest any such runaways that he might find. When he looked at George it is probable that he thought: "This boy is too young to be a conscript," and he evidently gave unconscious voice to what was pa.s.sing through his mind. Fortunately enough, he saw nothing suspicious in any of the Northerners.

The train ran rather slowly, so that it was bright daylight before it reached Big Shanty. "Big Shanty; twenty minutes for breakfast!" shouted the conductor and the brakemen. George's heart beat so fast that he almost feared some one would hear it, and ask him what was the matter. The hoa.r.s.e cries of the employees as they announced the name of the station made him realize that now, after all these hours of preparation and preliminary danger, the first act of his drama of war had begun. Every one of his companions experienced the same feeling, but, like him, none had any desire to draw back.

No sooner had the cars come to a standstill than nearly all the pa.s.sengers, excepting the Northerners, quickly left their seats, to repair to the long, low shanty or eating-room from which the station took its unpoetic name. Then the train hands, including the engineer and fireman, followed the example of the hungry pa.s.sengers, and hurried off to breakfast. The engine was deserted. This was even better than the adventurers could have hoped, for they had feared that it might be necessary to overpower the engineer before they could get away on their race.

The twenty-one men and the one boy left in the forward pa.s.senger car looked anxiously, guardedly, at one another. More than one felt in his clothes to make sure that he had his revolver. Andrews left the car for half a minute, dropped to the ground, and glanced rapidly up and down the track. There was no obstruction visible. Within a stone's throw of him, however, sentries were posted on the outskirts of the Confederate camp. He scanned the station, which was directly across the track from the encampment, and was glad to see, exactly as he had expected, that it had no telegraph office from which a dispatch concerning the coming escapade might be sent. Having thus satisfied himself that the coast was clear, and the time propitious, he reentered the car.

"All right, boys," he said, very calmly (as calmly, indeed, as if he were merely inviting the men to breakfast), "let us go now!"

The men arose, quietly, as if nothing startling were about to happen, left the car, and walked hurriedly to the head of the train. "Each man to his post," ordered Andrews. "Ready!"

In less time than it takes to write this account the seizure of the train was accomplished, in plain view of the puzzled sentries. The two men who were to act as engineer and a.s.sistant engineer clambered into the empty cab of the locomotive, as did also Andrews and Jenks. The latter was to be the fireman. One of the men uncoupled the pa.s.senger cars, so that the stolen train would consist only of the engine, tender, and the three baggage cars. Into one of these baggage cars the majority of the party climbed, shutting the doors at either end after them, while the two men who were to serve as brakemen stationed themselves upon the roof. Watson and Macgreggor were in this car, while George, with Waggie in his pocket, was standing in the tender, his handsome face aglow with excitement, and his eyes sparkling like stars.

"All ready! Go!" cried Andrews. The engineer opened the valve of the locomotive; the wheels began to revolve; in another second the train was moving off towards Chattanooga. The next instant Big Shanty was in an uproar. As he peered over the ledge of the tender, and looked back, George saw the sentries running here and there, as the pa.s.sengers in the breakfast-room came swarming out on the platform. There were shouts from many voices; he even heard the report of several rifles.

But shouts or shots from rifles could not avail now. The engine was dancing along the track on the road to Chattanooga; Big Shanty was soon many yards behind. George took Waggie out of his pocket, and held him up in the air by the little fellow's forepaws. "Say good-bye to the Confeds,"

he shouted, "for by to-night, Wag, you'll be in the Union lines!" The dog barked gleefully; and jumped about on the platform of the tender, glad enough to have a little freedom again. Then Waggie was replaced in his master's pocket.

Andrews, who was sitting on the right-hand seat of the cab, looked the picture of delight.

"How was that for a starter?" he cried. "It's a good joke on Watson: he was so sure the sentries would stop us, and the soldiers didn't realize what we were doing until it was too late--for them! Hurrah!"

It was all that the four men in the cab, and that George in the tender, could possibly do to keep their balance. The road-bed was very rough and full of curves; the country was mountainous, and the track itself was in wretched condition. Yet it was a magnificent sight as "The General," which was the name of the engine, careered along through the picturesque country like some faithful horse which tries, with all its superb powers of muscle, to take its master farther and farther away from a dangerous enemy.

But suddenly the engine began to slacken its speed, and at last came to a complete standstill. Andrews, who had made his way into the tender, with considerable difficulty, in order to speak to George, turned a trifle pale.

"What's the matter, Brown?" he shouted to the engineer.

"The fire's nearly out, and there's no steam," was the rejoinder. At the same moment the men in the baggage car opened the door nearest the tender, and demanded to know what had happened.

Andrews called back to them that there would only be a short delay.

"It's only the fire that's out," he added; "and I'm thankful it is nothing worse. When I saw the train slowing up I was afraid some of the machinery had broken." No one understood better than he how a broken engine would have stranded all his men in the enemy's country, only a short distance away, comparatively, from Big Shanty and the Confederate camp.

George worked with a will in a.s.sisting the men in the cab to convey wood from the tender into the engine furnace. In three minutes "The General"

had resumed its way.

"I wonder," thought George, as the train twisted around a curve and then sped across a narrow embankment, "if any attempt will be made to follow us." But the very idea of such pursuit seemed absurd.

Andrews turned to Jenks with a smiling countenance. "The most difficult part of our journey is already over," he said triumphantly. "There's only one unscheduled train to meet, in addition to the two regulars. After I meet it, probably at Kingston, twenty-five miles or more farther on, we can put the old 'General' to full speed, and begin our work! We have got the upper hand at last."

"Don't forget your telegraph wire is to be cut," said Jenks, as he jammed his shabby cap over his head, to prevent it from sailing off into s.p.a.ce.

"Wait a couple of minutes," answered the leader. "We'll cut it." He knew that although there was no telegraph station at Big Shanty, yet the enemy might tap the wire, if it were not cut, and thus send word along the line that a train manned by Northern spies was to be watched for and peremptorily stopped. The simplest obstruction on the track would be sufficient to bring this journey to an untimely end.

"Brown, we'll stop here," commanded the leader, a minute or two later, as the engine was running over a comparatively level section. "The General"

was soon motionless, whereupon Watson, peering out from the baggage car, called out: "Anything wrong?"

"Only a little wire-cutting to be done," shouted Andrews. Then coming to George, he said: "Look here, my boy, how are you on climbing?"

"Never had a tree beat me yet," said the lad.

"Then try your skill at that pole yonder, and see if you can get to the top of it."

Without waiting to make answer George handed Waggie to Jenks, jumped from the tender to the ashy road-bed, and started towards the nearest telegraph pole, only a few feet away from the engine. It was a far more difficult task to coax one's way up a smooth pole than up the rough bark of a tree, as George soon learned. Twice he managed to clamber half way up the pole, and twice he slid ignominiously to the ground. But he was determined to succeed, and none the less so because the men in the baggage car were looking on as intently as if they were at the circus. Upon making the third attempt he conquered, and reached the top of the pole amid the cheering of the spectators.

"Now hold on there for a minute, George," called Andrews. He produced from one of his pockets a ball of very thick twine, or cord, to one end of which he tied a small stick of kindling-wood, brought from the tender.

Next he leaned out from the cab and threw the stick into the air. It flew over the telegraph wire, and then to the ground, so that the cord, the other end of which he held in his left hand, pa.s.sed up across the wire, and so down again. To the end which he held Andrews tied a good-sized axe.

"Do you see what I want?" he asked the boy, who was resting himself on the cross-bar supporting the wire.

George needed no prompting. The cord was eight or nine feet away from him; to reach it he must move out on the telegraph wire, hand over hand, with his feet dangling in the air. Slowly he swung himself from the cross-bar to the wire, and began to finger his way towards the cord. But this was an experience new to the expert tree-climber; ere he had proceeded more than three feet his hands slipped and he fell to the ground. The distance was thirty-five feet or more, and the lookers-on cried out in alarm. The boy would surely break his legs--perhaps his neck!

But while Master George might not be an adept in handling a wire he had learned a few things about falling from trees. As he came tumbling down he gracefully turned a somersault and landed, quite unhurt, upon his feet.

"I'll do it yet," he maintained pluckily, running back to the telegraph pole.