Tom of the Raiders Part 17

"I'll pull the pin," said Tom. He lay down on the floor and reached for the coupling; then he drew back. "No-here, shove a tie off. Well see if we can wreck her."

As he drew the pin out, the others threw a tie down. It struck one wheel of the detached car, bounded, struck again and then bounded out of the way. The men silently watched the car rolling along behind them.

Tom shook his head in disgust. "Let's knock the ends of these cars out," he said. Once again they took the rail up and battered their way through. Tom climbed up over the end of the tender and reported to Andrews.

"We tried to wreck it," he said, "but the tie bounced out of the way."

Andrews nodded and leaned from the cab. "We're within a mile of Reseca bridge," he said slowly. "I don't dare to stop and build a fire. They're too close upon us."

Now, for the first time, Tom realized that the raid might fail in its purpose. The excitement of the race, of reaching this point where the road to Chattanooga lay clear before them, had been upon him; it had never entered his head that their long struggle against so many obstacles could end in anything but glorious success. Surely they could do something to block the way of the pursuing engine.

"Can't we stop and fight?" he asked. "Put up an obstacle at one of these curves, and attack them from ambush? We're all armed."

"No," answered Andrews; "they'll be better armed." He still believed that the engine in their rear had come from Atlanta-probably with a detachment of soldiers aboard, prepared for a battle. "There are bridges ahead-the Chickamauga bridges. We'll drop another car on the Reseca bridge. Go back and tell them. I'll slow down. Try to wreck it in the shed."

Tom hurried back again over the wood pile.

The Reseca bridge which ran over the Oostenaula River was covered by a long shed. And, as it was built upon a curve in the road, a box-car-either wrecked or merely left standing-could not be seen until the pursuing engine was almost upon it.

Ross stood at the side door of the first freight car, while Tom clutched the coupling pin, ready to draw it. Others waited with ties. The train's speed decreased.

"Get ready," yelled Ross; then, as they entered the shed, "Go!"

Tom drew the pin. The car seemed to cling to the train for several seconds; then the General leaped ahead. Ties streamed out upon the track. The wheels of the abandoned car knocked several out of the way; then, as the train swung about the curve, leaving the car hidden in the shed, Tom saw one tie resting at an angle across the track. The wheels struck it, and the car lurched heavily.... They could see no more.

"I think we put it off the track," cried Tom exultantly when he was back in the engine. Andrews slapped him on the back.

"We'll have to break the wires above here," he said as the little station in Reseca flashed past them. "Stop about a mile up here, Knight. On a curve."

"Wood!" yelled Brown.

Tom took up the work of dragging logs from the tender and stuffing them in the fire-box. He stopped once, and pointed to the wood pile. Fuel was running low.

"At Green's Station," said Andrews.

"Water there, too?" asked Brown.

"At Tilton-just a few miles farther on." Andrews waved to Knight to shut off the power.

"If that car at Reseca bridge doesn't stop them, we're cornered," panted Andrews as he ran back. "Put an obstruction here! That bent rail!"

The men ran back to the car and pulled out the rail. It was the one they had ripped from the ties north of Calhoun. They forced the straight end of it under the track, leaving the bent end projecting toward the pursuers-a scarcely visible snag which would rip into the engine.

"Keep dropping ties, men," ordered Andrews. "We have to stop at the wood yard."

Brown took the throttle and pushed the General onward toward Green's Station. Tom put the last of the fuel in the fire, and leaned wearily against the cab. Drops of rain, carried by the wind, splashed upon him and ran down his body, streaking the soot which covered his chest and stomach. His eyes met Knight's and they looked at each other dumbly, asking each other how the the race would end. Instinctively they turned toward Andrews. He was in the fireman's seat, hands clenched and face set, staring ahead. He did not move until they were within sight of Green's Station.

The General stopped at the wood pile and the men jumped out. The keeper of the yard came running toward them. Andrews waved him aside.

"Throw that wood aboard, men," he said. But they had already attacked the pile.

Then they heard repeated short blasts of a whistle to the southward. The men paused and looked at Andrews.

"Pile it in! Hurry!" he yelled.

"Who are you?" demanded the keeper. "What's this train!"

Andrews seemed not to hear him. Four Confederate soldiers who were standing several hundred yards away yelled and pointed in the direction of the whistling.

"'Board," called Andrews. As he climbed into the cab of the General, Tom saw that his face had become suddenly drawn. There was no talking now. The race had reached the final test of strength. While Tom, in the tender, yanked logs loose from the pile, Andrews stood ready to pa.s.s them to Knight, who shoved them into the fire-box.

"The wood's wet," said Knight. The others heard him and made no reply. He worked with the drafts, coaxing the fire. Occasionally, Brown glanced at the steam gauge; then the two engineers would exchange glances. Slowly the needle of the gauge crept up.

In the box-car the men silently dropped ties upon the tracks. Sometimes there was a mumble of satisfaction as a tie fell squarely across the rails; or a grunt of disgust when one tumbled end for end and landed out of position.

Running a mile or so behind them, they caught occasional glimpses of the smoke of the Texas. There were moments when the smoke paused and mounted straight into the sky; then a few seconds later it flattened out and rose in a long black stream. The Texas was running from obstruction to obstruction, clearing the way and pressing forward. How had they done it? How had they pa.s.sed the broken rail, the ties along the track, the box-cars and the snag? Those questions were pounding in the brains of Andrews' men.

If ever a man combined determination with luck it was Fuller. He had started on foot from Big Shanty in complete ignorance of what was happening to his stolen train. Undoubtedly, if he had known that a party of Northern raiders had taken it, he would have waited until a locomotive came from Atlanta. The idea of running after a locomotive would have seemed too ridiculous. But, expecting to find it abandoned around each curve, he raced on and on until they came to the hand car; then the Yonah. When the Yonah had run out of fuel, the New York was there to carry him to the Rome engine. When the Rome engine had been stopped by the break in the track, they had come to the Texas. They had shunted and outraced the train, jumped the broken track, and avoided wrecking on obstructions so many times that they had lost count. And still they pressed on. The force of Fuller's determination seemed greater than the force of the steam which flashed against the pistons of the Texas.

Fuller and Murphy, still sitting on the edge of the tender, saw the abandoned box-car as they swerved around the bend. Fuller waved his arms up and down slowly to the engineer as a signal to come to a gradual stop. They coasted down upon the box-car, picked it up and carried it on with them. Fuller and Murphy climbed to the top of it; Murphy, staying at the rear end to repeat the signals of Fuller, who was perched on the front.

At the sight of ties lying across the track, Fuller's arms shot up. An instant later, the Texas was laboring to a stop under reversed power, her brakes grabbing at the wheels. Then, when the decreasing speed of the train gave his legs the advantage, Fuller was ahead, heaving ties from the road.

Far to the northward, across the bend which hid the Reseca bridge from view, Fuller caught a glimpse of the General speeding on its way. He saw that the train had been shortened once more, that the engine was hauling only one box-car. He dreaded that first sight of the Reseca bridge, for, if Andrews had left it in flames, the race was over for the Texas. Then they swept around the curve and the bridge lay before them, indistinct in the drizzle of rain. It appeared intact, but Fuller knew that long curving shed too well through his years of travel over the road not to be suspicious of what lurked inside.

He waved a signal to approach gradually; then, as they came to the entrance, his arms shot up. The Texas came to a stop.

"Wait here," he yelled, sliding down the ladder. He ran into the shed.

The left forward wheel of the box-car had mounted upon one of the ties thrown before it. The tie was wedged diagonally across the track, and the f.l.a.n.g.e had cut a deep groove in it. The right wheel was nearly a foot off the track. Apparently the car had struck the tie just at the moment of losing momentum.

Fuller made a hasty examination, then ran back to the Texas. Murphy was coming forward to meet him.

"They've dropped the second box-car in there," explained Fuller. "The front wheels are off the track. We can drag it back, I think. We'll have to find a coupling pin."

The fireman was racing through his chest, looking for something which would serve to couple the cars together. "Will this be all right?" he asked, holding up a short crow-bar.

"Yes," answered Fuller. "And bring a heavy hammer."

While Murphy signaled the Texas into the shed, Fuller and the fireman ran forward with the crow-bar and hammer.

"Careful now," yelled Fuller, as the two box-cars came closer together. "Easy-easy!" The cars met gently. He slid the crow-bar into the hole and held it while the fireman hammered the top over.

"Now run back slowly-an inch at a time," ordered Fuller.

The engineer opened the throttle, and the Texas crept away, taking up the slack in the couplings. The left wheel followed back along the groove its f.l.a.n.g.e had cut in the tie. Fuller watched it breathlessly. There came a clash of metal as the wheel slipped down from the tie and struck the track. For a second the f.l.a.n.g.e rode on the rail, then settled into position, forcing the right wheel up.

Fuller yelled in triumph, kicked the tie off the track, and jumped for the ladder. The steam hissed as the Texas was thrown into reverse again. They swept out of the shed, pushing the two cars.