Chasing an Iron Horse Part 15

"They are after us again!" he shouted. "They have gotten past the broken rail somehow," he said. "They must have track repairing instruments on board."

Andrews set his lips firmly together like a man who determines to fight to the last.

George made his way back to the cab. "Will we have time to burn the bridge?" he asked.

"We must wait and see," answered the leader, as he once more left the engine and finally reached the despoiled baggage car. He said something to Jenks; then he returned to the cab.

"What are you going to do?" anxiously asked the boy. He could hear the shrill whistle of the pursuing locomotive. "Com-ing! Com-ing!" it seemed to say to his overwrought imagination.

Andrews made no answer to George; instead he shouted a command to the engineer: "Reverse your engine, and move backwards at full speed!"

The engineer, without asking any questions, did as he was told. Jenks ran through to the second car and contrived, after some delay caused by the roughness of the motion, to uncouple it from the third. This last car was now entirely loose from the train, and would have been left behind had it not been that the engine had already begun to go back. Faster and faster moved "The General" to the rear.

"Go forward again," finally ordered Andrews. The engine slowly came to a standstill, and then plunged forward once more. Now George could see the meaning of this manoeuvre. The third car, being uncoupled, went running back towards the enemy's tender. Andrews hoped to effect a collision.

But the engineer of the pursuing locomotive was evidently ready for such an emergency. He reversed his engine, and was soon running backwards. When the baggage car struck the tender no harm was done; the shock must have been very slight. In another minute the enemy's engine was puffing onward again in the wake of the fugitives, while the car was being pushed along in front of the tender.

"That didn't work very well," said Andrews, placidly. "Let's try them again."

Once more "The General" was reversed. This time the second car was uncoupled and sent flying back. "The General" was now hauling only the tender and the one baggage car in which the majority of the members of the party were confined. The second attempt, however, met with no better result than the first: the enemy pursued the same tactics as before; reversing the locomotive, and avoiding a serious collision. It now started anew on the pursuit, pus.h.i.+ng the two unattached cars ahead of it, apparently little hampered as to speed by the inc.u.mbrance. And now, unfortunately enough, the bridge was in plain view, only a few hundred yards ahead. As the enemy turned a new curve George caught a view of the tender. A dozen men, armed with rifles, were standing up in it; he could see the gleam of the rifle barrels.

"More oil," ordered Andrews. The boy seized the can, and poured some more of the greasy liquid into the fiery furnace. He knew that the wood was almost exhausted, and that it would soon be impossible to hold the present rate of progress. Oh, if there only would be time to burn the bridge, and thus check the pursuers! But he saw that he was hoping for the impracticable.

"Shall we stop on the bridge?" asked the engineer, in a hoa.r.s.e voice.

"It's too late," answered Andrews. "Keep her flying."

Over the bridge went the engine, with the pursuers only a short distance behind.

"Let us have some of that kindling-wood for the furnace," shouted Andrews to the men in the baggage car. The men began to pitch wood from the door of the car into the tender, and George transferred some of it to the furnace.

"That's better," cried the engineer. "We need wood more than we need a kingdom!"

"Throw out some of those cross-ties," thundered the leader. The men dropped a tie here and there on the track, so that a temporary obstruction might be presented to the pursuing locomotive.

"That's some help," said Andrews, as he craned his neck out of the cab window and looked back along the line. "Those ties will make them stop a while, any way." In fact the enemy had already stopped upon encountering the first log; two men from the tender were moving it from the track.

"We've a good fighting chance yet," cried Andrews, whose enthusiasm had suddenly returned. "If we can burn another bridge, and block these fellows, the day is ours!"

"The water in the boiler is almost gone!" announced the engineer.

George's heart sank. What meant all the wood in the world without a good supply of water? But Andrews was equal to the emergency. "Can you hold out for another mile or so?" he asked.

"Just about that, and no more," came the answer.

"All right. We are about to run by Tilton station. A little beyond that, if I remember rightly, is a water tank." Andrews, in his capacity as a spy within the Southern lines, knew Georgia well, and had frequently traveled over this particular railroad. It was his acquaintance with the line, indeed, that had enabled him to get through thus far without failure.

Past Tilton ran "The General," as it nearly swept two frightened rustics from the platform. Then the engine began to slow up, until it finally rested at the water tank.

"I was right," said Andrews. He leaped from the cab, and gazed down the line. "The enemy is not in sight now," he cried. "Those ties are giving them trouble. Put some more on the track, boys. George, try some more wire-cutting. Brown, get your boiler filled."

In an incredibly short s.p.a.ce of time the telegraph wire had been cut, the engine was provided with water, and some more ties had been placed upon the track in the rear. What a curious scene the party presented; how tired, and dirty, yet how courageous they all looked.

"Shall we take up a rail?" demanded Macgreggor. Scarcely had the words left his lips before the whistle of the enemy was again heard.

"No time," shouted the leader. "Let's be off!"

Off went the train--the grimy, panting engine, the tender, and the one baggage car, which was now literally torn to pieces in the frantic endeavor to provide kindling-wood.

"We want more wood," George shouted back to the men after they had proceeded a couple of miles. Some wood was thrown into the tender from the baggage car, with the gloomy news: "This is all we have left!"

"No more wood after this," explained George.

"All right," answered Andrews, very cheerfully. "Tell them to throw out a few more ties on the track--as long as they're too big to burn in our furnace."

The order was shouted back to the car. It was instantly obeyed. There was now another obstruction for the enemy; but George wondered how Andrews, full of resources though he might be, would find more wood for the engine.

But Andrews was equal even to this.

"Stop!" cried the leader, after they had pa.s.sed up the line about a mile from where the ties had been last thrown out. "The General" was soon motionless, breathing and quivering like some blooded horse which had been suddenly reined in during a race.

"Here's more work for you, boys," cried Andrews. He was already on the ground, pointing to the wooden fences which encompa.s.sed the fields on both sides of the track. The men needed no further prompting. In less than three minutes a large number of rails were reposing in the tender. George regarded them with an expression of professional pride, as befitted the fireman of the train.

"No trouble about wood or water now," he said, as "The General" tore onward again.

"No," replied the leader. "We will beat those Southerners yet!" He positively refused to think of failure at this late stage of the game. Yet it was a game that did not seem to promise certain success.

Thus the race continued, with "The General" sometimes rocking and reeling like a drunken man. On they rushed, past small stations, swinging around curves with the men in the car sitting on the floor and clinging to one another for fear they would be knocked out by the roughness of the motion.

As George thought of this terrible journey in after years he wondered why it was that engine, car and pa.s.sengers were not hurled headlong from the track.

"We are coming to Dalton," suddenly announced Andrews. Dalton was a good-sized town twenty-two miles above Calhoun, and formed a junction with the line running to Cleveland, Tennessee.

"We must be careful here," said Andrews, "for we don't know who may be waiting to receive us. If a telegram was sent via the coast up to Richmond, and then down to Dalton, our real character may be known. Brown, be ready to reverse your engine if I give the signal--then we'll back out of the town, abandon the train, and take to the open fields."

George wondered if, by doing this, they would not fall into the hands of their pursuers. But there was no chance for argument.

The speed of "The General" was now slackened, so that the engine approached the station at a rate of not more than fifteen miles an hour.

Andrews saw nothing unusual on the platform; no soldiers; no preparations for arrest.

"Go ahead," he said, "and stop at the platform. The coast's clear so far."

It was necessary that a stop should be made at Dalton for the reason that there were switches at this point, owing to the junction of the Cleveland line, and it would be impossible to run by the station without risking a bad accident. It was necessary, furthermore, that this stop should be as brief as possible, for the dilapidated looks of the broken baggage car and the general appearance of the party were such as to invite suspicion upon too close a scrutiny. Then, worse still, the enemy might arrive at any moment. Andrews was again equal to the occasion. As the forlorn train drew up at the station he a.s.sumed the air and bearing of a major-general, told some plausible story about being on his way with dispatches for Beauregard, and ordered that the switches should be immediately changed so that he could continue on to Chattanooga. Once again did his confident manner hoodwink the railroad officials. The switch was changed, and "The General" was quickly steaming out of Dalton. The citizens on the platform looked after the party as if they could not quite understand what the whole thing meant.

"Shall we cut a wire?" asked George.

"What is the good?" returned Andrews. "The enemy's engine will reach Dalton in a minute or two--perhaps they are there now--and they can telegraph on to Chattanooga by way of the wires on the Cleveland line.

It's a roundabout way, but it will answer their purpose just as well."

"Then we dare not keep on to Chattanooga?" asked George, in a tone of keen regret. He had fondly pictured a triumphant run through Chattanooga, and an ultimate meeting with the forces of Mitch.e.l.l somewhere to the westward, accompanied by the applause of the troops and many kind words from the General.