The Young Railroaders Part 31

The wheels had been drumming over the rail-joints for perhaps half an hour, and the disappearance of the light which had filtered through the car door had announced the fall of darkness, when there came a screeching of brakes.

"Where do you suppose we are now, Mr. Boyle?" asked Jack from his box.

"It's the grade just north of Axford Road. When we hit the up-grade two miles beyond we may begin to expect something. It was along there I figured that the--

"What's that?"

Both listened. "One of the brakemen, isn't it?" suggested Jack.

"What is he doing down on the edge of the car roof?"

The next sound was of something slapping against the car door.

Suddenly the detective gave vent to a cry that was barely suppressed.

"Jack, I've got it! I've got it at last!" he whispered excitedly.

"The freight thieves have bought up one of the brakemen! He lets himself down to the car door by a rope, opens it, and throws the stuff out!"

Jack's exclamation of delight at this final revelation of the heart of the mystery was followed by one of consternation. "But won't we get an awful shaking up if we're pitched off, going at full speed?" he said in alarm.

"We may. We'll have to take it. It's all in the game you know," declared Boyle grimly. "Sit tight and brace hard, and it'll not be so bad, though.

"Sh! Here he is!"

There was a sound of feet sc.r.a.ping against the car door, a rattle as the seal was broken and the clasp freed, then a rumble and the sudden full roar of the train told the two in the boxes that the door had been opened.

Swinging within, the intruder closed the door behind him, and lit a match. Peering from a knot-hole, Jack saw that the detective's guess was correct. It was a brakeman.

As Jack watched, the man produced and lit a dark-lantern, and turned it on the cases before him. Jack held his breath as the light streamed through the cracks of his own box.

"Just to order," muttered the brakeman audibly.

"And the bigger one, too. I'll not have to haul any out."

Then, to Jack's momentary alarm, then amus.e.m.e.nt, the man seated himself on the box, above him.

Presently, as Jack was wondering what the trainman was waiting for, from the distant engine came the two long and two short toots for a crossing, and the man started to his feet. With his eye to the knot-hole Jack watched.

Again came a whistle, and the creaking of brakes. Immediately the brakeman slid the car door back a few inches, flashed his lantern four times, m.u.f.fled it, and ran the door open its full width.

The critical moment had come. Gathering himself together, Jack braced with knees and elbows. The trainman seized the box, swung it to the door, and tipped it forward. The next instant Jack felt himself hurled out into the darkness.

For one terrible moment he felt himself hurtling through s.p.a.ce. Then came a crackle of branches, the box whirled over and over, again plunged downward, and brought up with a crash.

A brief s.p.a.ce Jack lay dazed, in a heap, head down. But he had been only slightly stunned, and recovering, he righted himself, and found with satisfaction that he had suffered no more than a bruise of the scalp and an elbow.

He had not long to speculate on his whereabouts. From near at hand came a sound of breaking twigs, and a voice.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE NEXT INSTANT JACK FELT HIMSELF HURLED OUT INTO THE DARKNESS.]

"Here's one," it said.

Only with difficulty did Jack avoid betraying himself. It was the voice of the man "Watts"!

"What is it?" inquired a second voice.

Through a crack a light appeared. "Silk," announced Watts.

"A good weight, too," he added, tipping the box. "Catch hold."

The packing-case was caught up; and rocked and jolted, Jack felt himself carried for what he judged a full quarter-mile. As the men slowed up a gleam of moonlight showed through the knot-hole, and peering forth he discovered a tree-lined road, and a two-horse wagon.

Sliding the box into the rear of the wagon, and well to the front, the men disappeared. The wait that followed was to Jack the most trying experience of the evening. Had the detective safely landed? Was there not a possibility of the larger box having been shattered? Or sufficiently broken to reveal its true contents, and disclose the plot to the freight-robbers? And what then would be his fate?

These and many other disquieting possibilities pa.s.sed through Jack's mind, causing him several times as the minutes went by to finger the hooks and b.u.t.tons which would permit of his escape. Finally snapping twigs, then heavy, stumbling footfalls allayed his anxiety, and the two men reappeared, staggering under the box containing the officer.

With difficulty the unsuspecting thieves raised the heavy packing-case to the tail-board of the wagon.

"It won't go in," said Watts' companion.

"Push this way a little," Watts directed.

"I can't--_Look out!_" There was a scramble, and the box crashed to the ground. At the same moment came a m.u.f.fled exclamation, and Jack caught his breath. Was it the detective? If so, had the others overheard it?

With relief, however, he heard Watts, who apparently was the chief of the gang, call his companion a mule, and order him to catch hold again. The box this time was successfully slid aboard; and at once the two men climbed to the seat, and the wagon rumbled off.

As they rattled along over a badly-kept road Jack gave as close attention to the pa.s.sing scenery as his limited view permitted, in order that he might be able to find his way back to the railroad if it should prove necessary. This did not promise to be difficult. On either side the dim moonlight showed an unbroken succession of trees, and also that the robbers were continuing in one direction--apparently due south.

For what seemed at least two miles they proceeded. Then appeared a small clearing, and with a quickening of the pulse Jack felt the wagon slow up and turn in. They were at their destination.

A forbiddingly suitable place for its purpose it was. Standing out darkly on the crest of a rise two hundred yards back, was a low shanty-like house, in which appeared a single gleam of light. Between, to the road, stretched a desolate moonlit prospect of stumps, decaying logs and brush-piles. On either side the woods formed a towering wall of blackness.

Rocking and pitching, the wagon made its way up a rutty, corkscrew lane.

They reached the house, and the door opened, and a tall, unpleasant-looking woman appeared and greeted the men.

"Good luck, eh?" she remarked briefly.

"Sure. Don't we always have good luck?" responded Watts. "Is supper ready?"

"Yes. You-uns better come in before you opens them boxes," said the woman.

"All right."

Pa.s.sing on, the wagon came at last to a halt before a good-sized barn.

The two men leaped to the ground, and while one of them opened the large side doors the other proceeded to back the wagon to it.

As the two freight thieves then unhooked, and led their horses to the stable, there came to Jack's ears a welcome tapping. "Are you all right, lad?" whispered the detective.