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He listened to the sharp ticking of the little machine. There was the double-hurry call. Then came some sharp, nervous clicks.
"R-u-n-a-w-a-y," he spelled out.
"What's that?" cried Griscom, springing to his feet.
"J-u-s-t p-a-s-s-e-d W-i-l-m-e-r, s-i-x f-r-e-i-g-h-t c-a-r-s. S-t-o-p t-h-e-m a-t R-i-d-g-e-t-o-n, o-r t-h-e-y w-i-l-l m-e-e-t N-o.
f-o-r-t-y-e-i-g-h-t."
Ralph looked up excitedly. Griscom stood by his side. His eyes were wide awake enough now.
"Repeat that message--quick, lad!" he said in a suppressed tone. "Can you signal for repeat?"
Ralph did so, once more spelling out the message as it came over the wire.
"No. 48?" spoke Griscom rapidly. "That is the special pa.s.senger they have been sending out from Stanley Junction since the strike. What is the next station north? Act! Wire north to stop the train."
Ralph got the next station with some difficulty. A depressing reply came. No. 48 had pa.s.sed that point.
"Then she's somewhere on the thirty-mile stretch between there and here," said Griscom. "Lad, it is quick action--wind blowing a hurricane, and those freights thundering down a one per cent. grade.
Bring the lantern. Don't lose a moment. Hurry!"
Ralph took the lead, and they rushed for their locomotive. The young fireman got a red lantern and ran down the track, set the light, and was back to the engine quickly.
"This is bad, very bad," said Griscom. "Nothing but this siding, ending at a big ravine, the only track besides the main. The runaway must have a fearful momentum on that grade. What can we do?"
Ralph tested the valves. He found sufficient steam on to run the engine.
"I can suggest only one thing, Mr. Griscom," he said.
"Out with it, lad, there is not a moment to lose," hurriedly directed the old engineer.
"Get onto the main, back down north, set the switch here to turn the runaways onto the siding."
"But suppose No. 48 gets here first?"
"Then we must take the risk, start south till she reaches the danger signals, and sacrifice our engine, that is all," said Ralph plainly.
It was a moment of intense importance and strain. In any event, unless the unexpected happened, No. 48 or their own locomotive would be destroyed. On the coming pa.s.senger were men, women and children.
"Duty, lad," said Griscom, in a kind of desperate gasp. "We must not hesitate. Pile in the black diamonds and hope for the best. If we can reach the creek before the runaways, we can switch them onto a spur.
It means a smash into the freights there. But anything to save the precious lives aboard the night pa.s.senger from Stanley Junction."
They ran on slowly, then, gaining speed, got a full head of steam on the cylinders. At a curve the bridge lights came into view.
"What do you see?" demanded Griscom, his band trembling on the throttle, wide open now.
"She's coming," cried Ralph. "I caught the glint of the bridge lights.
She's not six hundred yards away."
It was a desperate situation now. Both engineer and fireman realized this. The backward swing was caught, and down the course they had just come their locomotive sped with frightful velocity.
It was a mad race, but they had the advantage. One mile, two miles, three miles, the depot, down the main, and before the engine had stopped, Ralph was on the ground. He ran to the switch, set it, and then both listened, watched and waited.
"There are the runaways," said Ralph.
Yes, there they were, speeding like phantoms over the rain-glistening steel. Nearer and nearer they came, pa.s.sed the siding, struck the switch, ran its length, and then a crash--and the night pa.s.senger from Stanley Junction was saved!
"I don't know what the damage will be," muttered Griscom in a long-drawn breath of relief, "but we have done our duty as we saw it."
They got back on the siding and removed the red lights before No. 48 arrived. The night pa.s.senger sped tranquilly by, her train crew little dreaming of the peril they had escaped.
The next afternoon, when they arrived at Stanley Junction, the a.s.sistant superintendent of the road highly commended their action in regard to the runaway freights.
Ralph went home tired out from strain of work and excitement. As he neared the house he noticed a wagon in the yard and a horse browsing beside it.
"Why," he said, "that rig belongs to Limpy Joe."
Ralph hurried into the house. He found both Joe and Zeph in the sitting room. They were conversing with his mother, with whom the cripple boy had always been a great favorite.
"Well, fellows, I am glad to see you," said Ralph heartily, "but what brought you here?"
"Plainly," replied Limpy Joe--"Ike Slump."
"Why, what do you mean?" inquired the young fireman.
"I mean that we have been burned out," said Joe, "and Ike Slump did it."
CHAPTER XVI
CAR NO. 9176
"Burned out!" exclaimed Ralph, deeply concerned.
"Yes," nodded Joe, a trifle dolefully. "Labors of years in ashes--Limpy Joe's Railroad Restaurant a thing of the past."
"How did it happen?"
"Spite work. Three nights ago, late in the evening, Ike Slump appeared at the restaurant and demanded a free meal. I gave it to him. Then he demanded some money, and I refused it. He became bold and ugly, and told us how his crowd had it in for us, that they knew I had some hand in helping you get that stolen plunder, and would fix us sooner or later. He advised me to buy them off. I sent him away. Last night we discovered the place on fire, and it was burned to the ground."
Ralph was deeply distressed over his friend's misfortune. The lame fellow, however, was undaunted. He deplored his loss, but he was by no means discouraged.
"Thankful to have the horse and wagon left," he said. "I can always earn a living with that. Besides that, we saw Van Sherwin the other day. He is getting on finely, and I think we could get work on the Short Line Railroad. For the present, though, I am going to stay at Stanley Junction. I have a dozen plans for getting a little money together. Will you try us as boarders for a week or two, Ralph?"
"I answered that question a few minutes ago," reminded Mrs. Fairbanks, "and if you two will sleep in the same room, you will cause no inconvenience whatever."