Tom of the Raiders Part 19

There was no answer. The dense smoke choked and blinded him. "Shadrack!" He ran down the car, holding his breath and dodging the flames. "Shadrack!"

"Here!"

"Where?"

"Outside."

Tom swung out around the end of the car and found Shadrack on the ladder, climbing and fighting the waves of smoke which drifted back upon him, enveloping him, from the side door. He was dragging himself wearily from one rung to another.

"Can you get up?" Tom asked. Shadrack gasped and shook his head. "Hold on tight! Just hold there!"

Tom started back for the center of the car, found the side door and put his head out for a breath of clean air. Then he drew the door shut and made his way to the rear end again. That would keep the smoke from Shadrack as he climbed to the top of the car. Tom clung there, holding to the brake bar and the ladder, looking up. He saw Shadrack's legs disappear over the edge. Dizziness overcame him for a moment. He held on with all his strength, closed his eyes, letting the cool rain splatter in his face. Then he climbed the ladder, Shadrack was sitting on the top of the car, swaying weakly.

"Are you all right, Shadrack?" asked Tom.

"Yes-in a second. Thanks for coming. The smoke almost finished me. I was scattering the flames around. Is the fire going all right?"

"Yes. We'd better get back to the tender."

"I would have fallen off, if you hadn't closed that door. I'm still dizzy."

Tom looked ahead and saw the bridge. "Come on, Shadrack," he said. "We have to get forward. On your hands and knees." He, too, was so dizzy that he could not trust himself to walk upright. Together they crawled forward over the hot roof. Beneath them the flames crackled.

As they came to the end of the car and looked down into the tender, they found the men yelling, "Shadrack! Burns!" One of the men was gesticulating wildly to Andrews.

"Here we are!" yelled Tom. He waved to Andrews.

"We thought you were caught in there," said Wilson, helping them into the tender. "Dorsey started after you, but the fire forced him back."

"We were almost caught," gasped Tom, still choking from the smoke. The forward part of the car was a solid ma.s.s of flames, which roared and crackled above the noise of the engine. "Pa.s.s some of those logs into the engine!"

Tom entered the cab and stuffed fuel into the fire-box. Andrews, leaning from the fireman's window, was gazing back. He called to Tom and pointed. Behind them, perhaps a mile and a half, came the pursuing engine.

"Tell the men to pull the coupling when we stop," said Andrews. Tom obeyed, and Ross crawled over the end of the tender, his coat wrapped about his head to protect him from the flames, which spurted out in the eddies of wind.

"How much fuel have you left?" asked Andrews.

"Ten sticks."

"This is our last chance, then," Andrews replied. "We'll have to abandon the locomotive if they get through."

Andrews jumped up and crossed to the other side of the engine. He stood beside Knight, shouting into his ear. Knight nodded; then he closed the throttle, and the General's speed slackened. The bridge shed was looming ahead of them.

The General darted into the shed and came to a stop. Tom stood at the door of the tender, waiting for the signal that the car had been uncoupled. Already the flames were licking the shed walls and mounting to the roof; the scene was illuminated in a wavering, red glow.

Boss jumped up from behind the tender, and yelled, "Go!"

"Go!" repeated Tom. The steam hissed and enveloped them in a cloud. The walls echoed the screeching of the wheels as they slid upon the tracks. Brown yanked at the sand lever. The wheels gained traction and the General jumped ahead and sped from the bridge.

Smoke was pouring from the ends of the shed as they looked back. And across the bend, a mile behind them, came the Texas!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

THE END OF THE RACE

Fuller had stopped at Green's Station and at Tilton for wood and water; at Dalton he paused for a moment to shunt the two freight cars which Andrews had dropped. The telegraph operator who had been dragged into the chase at Calhoun ran to the station and pounced upon a telegraph key. Chattanooga answered him and he hammered out half of the message; then the wire "went dead." Andrews had broken the lines. But half of the message was enough to warn Chattanooga. The Commander of the Confederate troops rushed his men out to block the tracks against the raiders.

Fuller, relieved of the two box-cars, ordered the Texas ahead, and they swung out from the Dalton station.

"How about the tunnel?" Murphy asked.

Fuller thought for a moment. "We'll go straight through," he answered.

"You don't think that they'll drop that last box-car there?" asked Murphy.

"We'll have to take the risk. A minute's delay will be enough for them to destroy the bridge."

Murphy nodded and climbed up beside Fuller on the edge of the tender. Both of them realized that they would be in the very center of the wreck if Andrews had abandoned his last freight car in the tunnel. Yet they sat there, coolly and indifferently, awaiting whatever might come of the risk they were taking.

"If I were leading those men," said Fuller, "I would rush for the bridge, and not bother about the tunnel. And I think that is what they'll do." That was all he said as the black entrance grew larger before them.

The engineer glanced at Fuller and Murphy, wondering if they would give the signal to slow down. Neither of them moved. Then the Texas plunged into the smoke-laden darkness. Presently there appeared a faint luminous splotch ahead of them, growing brighter as the seconds pa.s.sed. They flashed out into the daylight again.

"Whew!" said Murphy. They exchanged glances and Fuller laughed nervously.

The General was just disappearing around the bend.

"Look!" exclaimed Fuller. They caught a glimpse of the smoking freight car. He climbed down from the tender and went to the engineer. "Put every ounce into her! They're making for the bridge-freight car on fire!"

The Texas, unburdened by cars, had the advantage in speed now. For seconds she seemed to hover above the tracks as the engineer forced her around the curve under full throttle. They came to the point where they had caught the last glimpse of the General; then the bridge swung into view. Black smoke, with wisps of red flames breaking through it, poured from the ends of the shed.

"They've left the freight car in there," shouted Fuller to the engineer. "Just the shed is burning now. Slow down and pick the car up, then rush on through."

"Through that fire?" demanded the engineer.

"Yes! If we stop we're lost." Fuller went to Murphy. "Better come in the cab-we're going through." Murphy followed him. They stood looking out over the tender.

The engineer reversed the Texas and brought it to a crawling pace as they reached the mouth of the shed. Smoke and flames enveloped them, blinding them, and they felt the wheels of the locomotive crunching over charred board which had fallen across the track. Then came the shock as the tender b.u.mped the freight car. Flames showered down over the locomotive, streaking through the blackness. The heat was scorching, sickening. The speed of the Texas increased. And then they found themselves in the clear air again, pus.h.i.+ng the smoking remains of the freight car before them.

"Go on! Go on!" yelled Fuller. "Never mind about the bridge." He glanced back and saw the shed collapse, shooting sparks into the pillar of smoke that was rising. "We'll get them between here and Chattanooga."

That smoke, rising into the sky, came like a signal of triumph to Andrews' men. They watched it silently; then they yelled. It was recompense for all those long hours of tension and violent effort. The men danced, shouted, and hammered each other upon the back. Andrews' face, drawn by hours of anxiety, relaxed into a smile.

"There's one bridge down!" he shouted. "How much fuel have we?"

"This is the last of it," answered Tom. He kicked the two logs which lay on the tender floor, ready to be shoved into the fire-box.