XVI
A DRAMATIC FLAGGING
Since shortly following Jack Orr's appointment to Midway Junction Alexhad been "agitating," as he called it, for his friend's transfer to thetelegraph force at the division terminal. At length, early in the fall,Alex's efforts bore fruit, and Jack was offered, and accepted, the "nighttrick" at one of the big yard towers at Exeter.
Of course the two chums were now always together. And the day of the bigflood that October was no exception to the rule. All afternoon the twoboys had wandered up and down the swollen river, watching the brownwhirling waters, almost bank high, and the trees, fences, even occasionalfarm buildings, which swept by from above. When six o'clock came theyreluctantly left it for supper, and the night's duties.
"Well, what do you think of the river, Ward?" inquired the chief nightdespatcher as Alex entered the despatching-room.
"It looks rather bad, sir, doesn't it. Do you think the bridge is quitesafe?"
"Quite. It has been through several worse floods than this. It's asstrong as the hills," the despatcher affirmed.
Despite the chief's confidence, however, when about 5 o'clock in themorning there came reports of a second cloud-burst up the river, herequested Alex to call up Jack, at the yard tower which overlooked thebridge, and ask him to keep them posted.
"Tell him the crest of this new flood will likely reach us in half anhour," he added; "and that by that time, as it is turning colder,there'll probably be a heavy fog on the river."
Twenty-five minutes later Jack suddenly called, and announced, "The newflood's coming! There is a heavy mist, and I can't see, but I can hearit. Can you see it from up there?"
Alex and the chief despatcher moved to one of the western windows, raisedit, and in the first gray light of dawn gazed out across the valleybelow. Instead of the dark waters of the river, and the yellow embankmentof the railroad following it, winding away north was a broad blanket offog, stretching from shore to shore. But distinctly to their ears came arumble as of thunder.
"It must be a veritable Niagara," remarked the chief with someuneasiness. "I never heard a bore come down like that before."
"Here she comes," clicked Jack from the tower. They stepped back to hisinstruments.
"Say!--"
There was a pause, while the chief and Alex exchanged glances ofapprehension, then came quickly, "Something has struck one of the westernspans of the bridge and carried it clean away--
"No--No, it's there yet! But it's all smashed to pieces! Only theupper-structure seems to be holding!"
Sharply the despatcher turned to an operator at one of the other wires."McLaren, Forty-six hasn't passed Norfolk?"
"Yes, sir. Five minutes ago."
A cry broke from the chief, and he ran back to the window. Alex followed,and found him as pale as death.
"What's the matter, Mr. Allen?" he exclaimed.
"Matter! Why, Norfolk is the last stop between that train and the bridge!She'll be down here in twenty minutes! And even if we can get someoneacross the bridge immediately, how can they flag her in that wall ofmist?" Hopelessly he pointed where on the farther shore the tracks werecompletely hidden in the blanket of white vapor. "And there's no time tosend down torpedoes."
At the thought of the train rushing upon the broken span, and plungingfrom sight in the whirling flood below, Alex felt the blood draw backfrom his own face.
"But we will try something! We must try something!" he cried.
At that moment the office door opened and Division Superintendent Cameronappeared. "Good morning, boys," he said genially. "I'm quite an earlybird this morning, eh? Came down to meet the wife and children. They'regetting in from their vacation by Forty-six.
"Why, Allen, what is the matter?"
The chief swayed back against the window-ledge. "One of the bridgespans--has just gone," he responded thickly, "and Forty-six--passedNorfolk!"
The superintendent stared blankly a moment, started forward, thenstaggered back into a chair. But in another instant he was on his feet,pallid, but cool. "Well, what are you doing to stop her?" he demandedsharply.
The chief pulled himself together. "It only happened this moment, sir.The man at the yard tower just reported. One of the western spans wasstruck by something. Only the upper-structure is hanging," he says.
"Can't you send someone over on foot, with a flag, or torpedoes?"
"There are no torpedoes at the bridge house, and there's not time to sendthem down. As to flagging--look at the mist over the whole valleybottom," said the despatcher pointing. "Except directly opposite, wherethe wind between the hills breaks it up at times, the engineer couldn'tsee three feet ahead of him."
The superintendent gripped his hands convulsively. Suddenly he turned toAlex. "Ward, can't you suggest something?" he appealed. "You have alwaysshown resource in emergencies."
"I have been trying to think of something, sir. But, as the chief says,even if we could get a man across the bridge, what could he do? I wasdown by the river yesterday morning, and the haze was like a blind wall."
"Couldn't a fire be built on the tracks?"
"Not quickly enough, sir. Everything is soaking wet."
The superintendent strode up and down helplessly. "And of course it hadto happen after the Riverside Park station had closed for the season," hesaid bitterly. "If we had had an operator there we--"
The interruption was a cry from Alex. "I've something! Oil!"
He dashed for the tower wire.
"What? What's that?" cried the superintendent, running after.
"Oil on a pile of ties, or anything, sir--providing Orr can get over thebridge," Alex explained hurriedly as he whirled off the letters of Jack'scall. The official dropped into the chair beside him.
"I, I, TR," answered Jack.
"OR, have you any oil in the tower?" shot Alex.
"No, but there's some in the lamp-shed just below."
"Look here, could you possibly get across the bridge?"
"I might manage it. There is a rail bicycle in the lamp-house. If therails are hanging together perhaps I could shoot over with that. Why?"
"46 is due in twenty minutes, and apparently we have no way of stoppingher except through you."
"Why, certainly I'll risk it," buzzed the sounder. "I suppose the oil isto make a quick blaze, to flag her?" Jack added, catching Alex's idea.
"That's it. Make it just this side of the Riverside Park station."
"OK! Here goes!"
"Good luck," sent Alex, with a sudden catch in his throat, as he realizedthe danger his chum was so cheerfully running. "God help him!" added thesuperintendent fervently.
Jack, in the distant tower, took little time to think of the dangerhimself. Catching up a lantern and lighting it, he was quickly out anddown the tower steps, and running for the nearby shed. Fortunately it wasunlocked. Darting in, he found a large can of oil. Carrying it out to themain-line track, he returned, and hurriedly dragged forth the yardlamp-man's rail bicycle--a three-wheeled affair, with the seat and gearof an ordinary bicycle.
Swinging the little car onto the rails, he placed the oil can on theplatform between the arms, swung the lantern over the handlebars,mounted, and was off, pedalling with all his might.
As he speedily neared the down-grade of the bridge approach, and the roarof the flood met him in full force, Jack for the first time began torealize the danger of his mission. But with grimly set lips, he refusedto think of it, and pedalled ahead determinedly.
He topped the grade, and below him was a solid roof of mist, only thebridge towers showing.
Apprehensively, but without hesitation, he sped downward. The firstdampness of the vapor struck him. The next moment he was lost in ablinding wall of white. He could not see the rails.
On he pedalled with bowed head. Suddenly came a roar beneath him. He wasover the water.
Jack's occasional views from the tower had shown him where the bridge wasshattered; and for some distance he continued ahead at a good speed.
Thenjudging he was nearing the wrecked portion, he slowed down and went onvery slowly, peering before him with straining eyes, and listeningsharply for a note in the tumult of water below which might tell of thebroken timbers and twisted iron.
It came, a roar of swirling, choking and gurgling. Simultaneously therewas a trembling of the rails beneath him.
He was on the shattered span.
At a crawl Jack proceeded. The vibration became more violent. On one sidethe track began to dip. Momentarily Jack hesitated, and paused. At oncecame a picture of the train rushing toward him, and conquering his fear,he went on.
Suddenly the track swayed violently, then dipped sharply sideways. With acry Jack sprang off backwards, and threw himself flat on his face on thesleepers. Trembling, deafened by the roar of the cataract just beneathhim, he lay afraid to move, believing the swaying structure would giveway every instant. But finally the rails steadied, and partly righted;and regaining his courage, Jack rose to his knees, and began working hisway forward from tie to tie, pushing the bicycle ahead of him.
Presently the rails became steadier. Cautiously he climbed back into thesaddle, and slowly at first, then with quickly increasing speed andrising hope, pushed on. The vibration decreased, the track again becameeven and firm. Suddenly at last the thunder of the river passed frombelow him, and he was safely across.
A few yards from the bridge, and still in the mist, Jack peered down tosee that the oil can was safe. He caught his breath. Reaching out, hefelt about the little platform with his foot.
Yes; it was gone! The tipping of the car had sent it into the river.
As the significance of its loss burst upon him, and he thought of theperil he had come through to no purpose, Jack sat upright in the saddle,and the tears welled to his eyes.
Promptly, however, came remembrance of the Riverside Park station, a mileahead of him. Perhaps there was oil there!
Clenching his teeth, and bending low over the handlebars, Jack shot on,determined to fight it out to the finish.
Meantime, at the main office the entire staff, including thesuperintendent, the chief despatcher and Alex, were crowded in thewestern windows, watching, waiting and listening. Shortly after Alex hadannounced Jack's departure a suppressed shout had greeted the tiny lightof his lantern on the bridge approach, and a subdued cheer of good luckhad followed him as he had disappeared into the wall of mist.
Then had succeeded a painful silence, while all eyes were fixed anxiouslyon the spot opposite where a light west wind, blowing down through a cutin the hills, occasionally lifted the blanket of fog and dimly disclosedthe river bank and track.
Minute after minute passed, however, and Jack did not reappear. Thesilence became ominous.
"Surely he should be over by this time, and we should have had a glimpseof his light," said the chief. "Unless--"
An electrifying cry of "There he is!" interrupted him, and allmomentarily saw a tiny, twinkling light, and a small dark figure shootingalong the distant track.
A moment after the buzz of excited hope as suddenly died. From the northcame a long, low-pitched "Too--oo, too--oo, oo, oo!"
The train!
"How far up, Allen?"
"Three miles."
The superintendent groaned. "He'll never do it! He'll never do it! She'llbe at the bridge in five minutes!"
JACK ROSE TO HIS KNEES, AND BEGAN WORKING HIS WAYFORWARD FROM TIE TO TIE.]
"No; Broad is careful," declared the chief, referring to the engineer ofthe coming train. "He won't keep up that speed when he strikes the worstof the fog. There are eight or ten minutes yet."
Again came the long, mellow notes of the big engine, whistling acrossing.
"Who's that?" said Alex suddenly, half turning from the window. The nextmoment with a cry of "He's at the station! Orr's at the Park station!" hedarted to the calling instruments, and shot back an answer. The restrushed after, and crowded about him.
"I'm at the Park station," whirled the sounder. "I broke in. I lost theoil can on the bridge. There is no oil here. What shall I do?"
As the chief read off the excited words to the superintendent, theofficial sank limply and hopelessly into a chair.
"But might there not be some there, somewhere? Who would know, Mr.Allen?"
At Alex's words the chief spun about. "McLaren, call Flanagan on the'phone!" he cried. "Quick!"
The operator sprang to the telephone, and in intense silence the partywaited.
He got the number.
"Hello! Is Flanagan there?
"Say, is there any oil across the river at the Park station?
"For Heavens sake, don't ask questions! Is there?"
"Yes; he says there's a half barrel in the shed behind," reported theoperator.
Alex's hand shot back to the key.
At the first dot he paused.
Through the open window came a whistle, strong and clear.
The chief threw up his hands. Alex himself sank back in his chair,helplessly.
Suddenly he again started forward.
"I have it!"
With the sharp words he again grasped the key, and while those about himlistened with bated breath he sent like a flash, "Jack, there's a barrelof oil in the shed at the rear. Knock the head in, spill it, and set amatch to it.
_"Burn the station!"_
The chief and the operators gasped, then with one accord set up a shoutand darted back for the windows. The superintendent, told of the message,rushed after.
In absolute silence all fixed their eyes on the spot a mile up the riverwhere lay the little summer depot.
Once more came the long-drawn "Too--oo, too--oo, oo, oo!" for a crossing.
"The next'll tell," said the chief tensely--"for the crossing this sideof the station, or--"
It came. It was the crossing.
But the next instant from the mist shot up a lurid flare. From thewindows rose a cry. Higher leaped the flames. And suddenly across thequiet morning air came a long series of quick sharp toots. Again theycame--then the short, sharp note for brakes.
WITH THE SHARP WORDS HE AGAIN GRASPED THE KEY.]
And the boys and the flames had won!
The superintendent turned and held out his hand. "Ward, thank you," hesaid huskily. "Thank you. You are a genuine railroader."
"And--about the station?" queried Alex, a sudden apprehension in his faceand voice. For the moment the crisis was past he had realized with dismaythat he had issued the unprecedented order for the burning of the stationentirely on his own responsibility.
"The station?" The superintendent laughed. "My boy, that was the bestpart of it. That was the generalship of it. There was no time to ask,only act. The fraction of a second might have lost the train.
"No; that is just why I say you are a genuine railroader--the burning ofthe station was a piece of the finest kind of railroading!
"And this reminds me," added the superintendent some minutes later,leading Alex aside and speaking in a lower voice. "We expect to startconstruction on the Yellow Creek branch in six weeks, and will be wantingan 'advance guard' of three or four heady, resourceful operators with theconstruction train, or on ahead. Would you like to go? and your friendOrr? There'll be plenty of excitement before we are through."
"I'd like nothing better, sir, or Orr either, I know," declared Alex withimmediate interest. "But where will the excitement come in, sir?"
"You have heard the talk of the K. & Z. also running a line to the newgold field from Red Deer? And that they were held up by right-of-waytrouble? Well, we have just learned that that was all a bluff; that theyhave been quietly making preparations, and are about to startconstruction almost immediately. And you see what that means?"
"A race for the Yellow pass?"
"A race--and more than that. Did you ever read of the great war betweenthe Santa Fe and the Rio Grande for the Grand Canyon of Colorado?Regularly organized bands of fighting men on either side, and pitchedbattles? Well, I don't anticipate matters coming to th
at point between usand the K. & Z., but I wouldn't be surprised if it came near it before weare through. The lines traverse wild country, and the K. & Z. people havemen in their construction department who would pull up track or cut wiresas soon as light a pipe. In the latter case they would cut at criticaltimes. There is where an operator with a head for difficulties mightprove invaluable."
"I would be more than glad to tackle it, sir," agreed Alexenthusiastically.
"Very well then. You may consider yourself, and your friend Orr,appointed. And if you know of anyone else of the same brand, you mightsuggest him," the superintendent concluded.
"I don't think I do, sir--at the moment," Alex responded.
The week succeeding brought Alex a suggestion.