The Young Railroaders Part 11

Scarcely a mile distant Jack uttered an exclamation, and, running forward, caught up the severed end of the telegraph line.

A moment's examination of the wire showed it had been cut through with a sharp file.

Yes; undoubtedly it was the work of Raub and Simpson, in an effort to keep the news from the "Star," and score a "beat" for the opposition telegraph company and the "Morning Bulletin."

"But you haven't done it yet," said Jack grimly, turning to look about him. How could he overcome the break in the wire? As the cut had been made close to the gla.s.s insulator on the cross-arm, only one of the two ends hung to the ground, and he saw that he could not splice them. And in any case he could not climb the pole and take that heavy stretch of wire with him.

His eyes fell on a barb-wire fence bordering the road, and like an inspiration Alex Ward's feat with the rails at Hadley Corners occurred to him. Could he not do the same thing with one of the fence wires? Connect this end of the telegraph line (and fortunately it was the Hammerton end), say to the upper strand, then run back to the office and string a wire from the fence in to the instruments?

To think was to act. Dragging the telegraph wire to the fence, Jack looped it over the topmost strand near one of the posts, and wound it about several times, to ensure a good contact. Then on the run he started back for the telegraph office.

As he neared the little building Jack saw a figure within. Thinking the "Star" reporter had returned with further copy, he quickened his steps.

At the doorway he halted in consternation. Instead of the reporter were two desperate-looking characters, and on the table beside them a half-emptied bottle and a large revolver.

Jack hesitated a moment, then stepped inside. "What are you men doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh, h.e.l.lo, kiddo! We are the new operators," said one of them with tipsy humor. "You're discharged, see? And you git, too!" he suddenly shouted, catching up the pistol. And promptly Jack "got." A few yards distant, however, he halted. Now what was he to do?

"Oh here you are, eh? Where have you been?" It was West, the "Star" man, and he spoke angrily. "I was here ten minutes ago, and found the office empty, and if the other company could have handled my stuff yours would have lost it. I've just been--"

Interrupting, Jack hastily explained, telling of the severed wire, and his plan to bridge the break. The reporter uttered an indignant exclamation. "It's Raub's work, sure as you're born," he said hotly.

"But say, youngster, we can't permit ourselves to be beaten this way.

Can't we do something?"

"We might get some help, and drive the roughs out," suggested Jack.

"No; we haven't time. And then they might put up a drunken fight and shoot somebody. Come, think of something else. You surely can get over this new difficulty, after your clever idea for getting around the cut in the wire."

"I don't know," replied Jack doubtfully, glancing toward the office window. "If there was any way of getting the instruments--"

"What could you do with them?"

"We could turn the barn there into an office. I'd run connections out through the back to the fence. It's just behind."

"Say--I've an idea then! If it wouldn't take you long to remove the instruments from the table?"

"Only a couple of minutes."

"Come on," said West. Leading the way back toward the office, he explained, "I'll get these beggars out, you hide round the corner, and soon as the way is clear rush in and get your instruments, and duck for the barn. I'll join you later."

"How are you going to get them out?" whispered Jack.

"Watch," said the reporter.

As Jack drew out of sight about the rear of the building his mystification was added to when he saw West pause before the door, stoop and pick up a handful of gravel. But immediately the reporter entered the doorway and spoke his purpose was explained.

"h.e.l.lo, you two big rummies," he said in his most offensive tones. "What are you doing here?"

The two men were in a momentarily genial mood, however, and missed the insult. "Why, h.e.l.lo pard, ol' man," responded one of them cordially.

"Come in an' make 'self t' home. Wanta buy a telegraph office? Cheap?"

"Cheap! You are the cheapest article I see here," replied West, yet more insultingly. "What do you mean by sitting down in respectable chairs? You ought to be tied up in a cow-stable. That's where you belong."

There was an angry growl as the two men scrambled to their feet, and peering about the corner Jack saw West back into the door.

"Come on out, you big, overgrown cowards," shouted the reporter. "I'll thrash the both of you, with one hand tied behind me!

"And take that!"

With his last words West suddenly threw the gravel full in the faces of the now enraged men, and spinning about, raced off down the road. They stumbled forth, shouting with rage, and one of them fired. The bullet went yards wide, and West ran on. Without further wait Jack darted into the office, in a few minutes had the relay and key from the table, secured some spare ends of wire for connections, and sped for the barn.

[Ill.u.s.tration: LOOPED IT OVER THE TOPMOST STRAND, NEAR ONE OF THE POSTS.]

There all was darkness. Entering, a search with matches soon produced a lantern, however. Lighting it, Jack stepped without to discover whether its glimmer could be seen from the direction of the office. As he closed the door West appeared, panting and laughing.

"Well, what do you think of that stunt, youngster?" he chuckled. "Did you get the instruments?"

"Yes. I was out here to learn whether the light of a lantern I found could be seen."

"Good head! No; it doesn't show.

"And come on! Here the beggars are again!" West led the way inside, and closed the door behind them.

"Now what, my boy?"

"A table first. Here, the very thing," said Jack, making towards a long feed-box at the rear of the barn.

As they cleared its top of a pile of harness West asked, "Just what is the scheme here, youngster? I don't think I understand it."

"Oh, simple enough. I'll just run the wires out through that knot-hole, and connect one to the fence and the other to the ground."

"Simple! It looks different to me," declared the reporter admiringly.

"All right, go ahead. I'll get down on this box and grind out the rest of my story."

Already Jack was at work sorting over the odd pieces of wire he had brought. Finding two suitable lengths, and straightening them out, he quickly connected them to the instruments, placed the instruments in a convenient position on the top of the box, and thrust the wire ends through the knot-hole. Then, hastening outside to the rear of the barn, he proceeded to connect one of them to the same strand of the fence wire to which the telegraph line was secured a mile distant. The other he drove deep into the damp earth beneath the edge of the building. And, theoretically, the circuit was complete.

Hurriedly he re-entered the barn to learn the result.

"Well?" said West anxiously.

"There is current, but it's too weak." Jack's voice quavered with his disappointment. "I suppose the rusty splices of that old fence offer too much resistance.

"But I'm not beaten yet," he exclaimed, suddenly recovering his determination. Turning from the box, he began pacing up and down the floor. "I'll figure it out somehow if I--oh!" With the cry Jack darted for the door, out, and toward the office.

The intoxicated roughs were again in possession. Quietly he made his way to a dark window adjoining the lighted window of the operating room--the window of a little store-room, where, the local operator had told him, the batteries were located.

The window was unlocked, and with little difficulty he succeeded in raising it. Cautiously he climbed within, and feeling about, found the row of gla.s.s jars. Quickly disconnecting two of them, he carried them to the window-sill, clambered out, and hastened with them to the barn.