THE YOUNG RAILROADERS
I
ONE KIND OF WIRELESS
When, after school that afternoon, Alex Ward waved a good-by to hisfather, the Bixton station agent for the Middle Western, and set off upthe track on the spring's first fishing, he had little thought ofexciting experiences ahead of him. Likewise, when two hours later asudden heavy shower found him in the woods three miles from home, andwith but three small fish, it was only with feelings of disappointmentthat he wound up his line and ran for the shelter of an old log-cabin ahundred yards back from the stream.
Scarcely had Alex reached the doorway of the deserted house when he wasstartled by a chorus of excited voices from the rear. He turned quicklyto a window, and with a cry sprang back out of sight. Emerging from thewoods, excitedly talking and gesticulating, was a party of foreigners whohad been working on the track near Bixton, and in their midst, his handsbound behind him, was Hennessy, their foreman.
For a moment Alex stood rooted to the spot. What did it mean? Suddenlyrealizing his own possible danger, he caught up his rod and fish, andsprang for the door.
On the threshold he sharply halted. In the open he would be seen at once,and pursued! He turned and cast a quick glance round the room. The ladderto the loft! He darted for it, scrambled up, and drew himself through theopening just as the excited foreigners poured in through the door below.For some moments afraid to move, Alex lay on his back, listening to thehubbub beneath him, and wondering in terror what the trackmen intendeddoing with their prisoner. Then, gathering courage at their continuedignorance of his presence, he cautiously moved back to the opening andpeered down.
The men were gathered in the center of the room, all talking at once. Buthe could not see the foreman. As he leaned farther forward heavyfootfalls sounded about the end of the house, and Big Tony, a hugeItalian who had recently been discharged from the gang, appeared in thedoorway.
"We puta him in da barn," he announced in broken English; for the rest ofthe gang were Poles. "Tomaso, he watcha him."
"An' now listen," continued the big trackman fiercely, as the restgathered about him. "I didn't tell everyt'ing. Besides disa man Hennessyhe say cuta da wage, an' send for odders take your job, he tella da bigaboss you no worka good, so da biga boss he no pay you for all da lastmont'!"
The ignorantly credulous Poles uttered a shout of rage. Several cried:"Keel him! Keel him!" Alex, in the loft, drew back in terror.
"No! Dere bettera way dan dat," said Tony. "Da men to taka your job cometo-night on da Nomber Twent'. I hava da plan.
"You alla know da old track dat turn off alonga da riv' to da oldbrick-yard? Well, hunerd yard from da main line da old track she washedaway. We will turn da old switch, Nomber Twent' she run on da oldtrack--an' swoosh! Into da riv'!"
Run No. 20 into the river! Alex almost cried aloud. And he knew the planwould succeed--that, as Big Tony said, a hundred yards from the main-linetrack the old brick-yard siding embankment was washed out so that therails almost hung in the air.
"Dena we all say," went on Big Tony, "we alla say, Hennessy, he do it. Wesay we caughta him. See?"
Again Alex glanced down, and with hope he saw that some of the Poles werehesitating. But Tony quickly added: "An' no one else be kill buta dastrike-break'. No odder peoples on da Nomber Twent' disa day at night.An' da trainmen dey alla have plent' time to jomp.
"Only da men wat steala your job," he repeated craftily. And with asinking heart Alex saw that the rest of the easily excitable foreignershad been won.
Again he moved back out of sight. Something must be done! If he couldonly reach the barn and free the foreman!
But of course the first thing to do was to make his own escape from thehouse. He rose on his elbow and glanced about.
At the far end of the loft a glimmer of light through a crack seemed toindicate a door. Cautiously Alex rose to his knees, and began creepingforward to investigate. When half way a loud creak of the boards broughthim to a halt with his heart in his mouth. But the loud conversationbelow continued, and heartily thanking the drumming rain on the roofoverhead, Alex moved on, and finally reached his goal.
As he had hoped, it was a small door. Feeling cautiously about, he foundit to be secured by a hook. When he sought to raise the catch, however,it resisted. Evidently it had not been lifted for many years, and hadrusted to the staple. Carefully Alex threw his weight upward against it.It still refused to move. He pushed harder, and suddenly it gave with apiercing screech.
Instantly the talking below ceased, and Alex stood rigid, scarcelybreathing. Then a voice exclaimed, "Up de stair!" quick footsteps crossedthe floor towards the ladder, and in a panic of fear Alex threw himselfbodily against the door, in a mad endeavor to force it. But it stillheld, and with a thrill of despair he dropped flat to the floor, and sawthe foreigner's head come above the opening.
"NOW I AM GOING TO CUT YOUR CORDS," ALEX WENT ONSOFTLY.]
There, however, the man paused, and turned to gaze about, listening. Fora brief space, while only the rain on the roof broke the silence, theforeigner apparently looked directly at the boy on the floor, and Alex'sheart seemed literally to stand still. But at last, after what appearedan interminable time, the man again turned, and withdrew, and with a sighof relief Alex heard him say to those below, "Only de wind, dat's all."
Waiting until the buzz of conversation had been fully resumed, Alex roseonce more to his knees, and began a cautious examination of the door. Thecause of its refusal to open was soon apparent. The old hinges had given,allowing it to sag and catch against a raised nail-head in the sill.
Promptly Alex stood upright, grasped one of the cross-pieces, carefullylifted, and in another moment the door swung silently outward.
With a glance Alex saw that the way was clear, and quickly loweringhimself by his hands, dropped. Here the rain once more helped him. On thewet, soggy ground he alighted with scarcely a sound. Momentarily,however, though he now breathed easily for the first time since he hadentered the house, he stood, listening. The excited talking inside wenton uninterruptedly, and moving to the corner, he peered about in thedirection of the barn.
Leaning in the doorway, smoking, and most fortunately, with his backtowards the house, was the Italian, Tomaso. Beyond doubt the foreman wasinside!
At the rear of the barn, and some hundred feet from where Alex stood, wasa small cow-stable. Alex determined to make an effort to reach it, andsee if from there he could not get, unseen, into the barn itself.
The Italian continued to smoke peacefully, and with his eyes constantlyon him Alex stepped forth, and set off across the clearing on tiptoe. Theguard puffed on, and he neared the stable. Then suddenly the man moved,and made as though to turn. But with a bound Alex shot forward on therun, made the remaining distance, and was out of view.
The rear door of the stable was open. On tiptoe Alex made his way inside.The door leading into the barn also was ajar. With bated breath, pausingafter each step, Alex went forward, reached it, and peered within.
Yes, the foreman was there, a dim figure sitting on the floor a few feetfrom him. But the outer doorway, in which stood the man on guard, alsowas only a few feet away, and at once Alex saw that the problem ofreaching the foreman without being discovered was to be a difficult one.Trusting to the now gathering gloom of the twilight, however, Alexdetermined to make a try. Opening his knife and holding it in his teeth,he sank to the floor, and began slowly worming his way forward, flat onhis stomach. It was a nerve-trying ordeal. A dozen times he was sure thecrackling straw had betrayed him. But pluckily he kept on, inch by inch,and finally was almost within touch of the unsuspecting prisoner.
Then very softly he hissed. Sharply, as he had feared, the foremantwisted about. But at the moment, by great good luck, the foreigner atthe door turned to knock his pipe against the door-post, and hurriedlyAlex whispered, "Don't move, Mr. Hennessy! It's Alex Ward! I was in theold house, and saw them bring you up.
"And, Mr. Hennessy, they plan to run Twenty
into the river to-night. Tonytold them there were strike-breakers aboard her to take their places."
In spite of himself the foreman uttered a low exclamation. At once theman in the door turned. But with quick presence of mind the prisonerchanged the exclamation to a loud cough, and after a moment, while Alexlay holding his breath, the Italian turned his attention again to hispipe.
"Now I am going to cut your cords," Alex went on softly. "Be careful notto let your arms seem to be free."
The foreman nodded.
"There," announced Alex as the twine dropped from the prisoner's wrists.
"Now, what shall we do? There is a door behind you into the cow-stable--theone I came in by. Suppose you work back towards it as far as you dare, thenmake a dash for it?"
"Good," whispered the foreman over his shoulder. "But you get out first."
"All right," responded Alex, and immediately began moving backwards, feetfirst, as he had come.
Their escape was to be made more easy, however. At the moment from thehouse came a call. The man in the doorway stepped out to reply, and in aninstant seeing the opportunity both Alex and the foreman were on theirfeet, and had darted out into the stable.
"Now for a sprint!" said the foreman.
"Or, say, suppose I hide here in the stable," suggested Alex. "They don'tknow of my being here. Then as soon as the way is clear I can get off inthe opposite direction, and one of us would be sure to get away."
"Good idea," agreed the foreman. "All right, you--"
There came a loud cry from the barn, and instantly he was off, and Alex,darting back, crept low under a stall-box. As he did so the Italiandashed by and out, and uttered a second cry as he discovered the fleeingforeman. From the house came an answer, then a chorus of shouts that toldthe rest of the gang had joined in the chase.
Alex lay still until the last sound of pursuit had died away, thenslipped forth, glanced sharply about, and dashed off for the woods in thedirection of the river and the railroad bridge.
HELD IT OVER THE BULL'S-EYE, ALTERNATELY COVERING ANDUNCOVERING THE STREAM OF LIGHT.]
The adventure was not yet over, however. Alex had almost reached theshelter of the trees, and was already congratulating himself on hissafety, when suddenly from the opposite side of the clearing rose a shoutof "De boy! De boy!" Glancing back in alarm he saw several of the Polescutting across in an endeavor to head him off.
Onward he dashed with redoubled speed. With a final rush he reached thetrees ahead of them, and plunging into the friendly gloom, darted onrecklessly, diving between trunks, and over logs and bushes like a younghare.
A quarter of a mile Alex ran desperately, then halted, panting, tolisten. Not a sound save his own breathing broke the stillness. Surely,thought Alex, I haven't shaken them off that easily, unless they werealready winded from their chase after--
Off to the right rose a shrill whistle. From immediately to the left camean answer. Then he understood. They were heading him off from therailroad and the river spur.
Alex's heart sank, and momentarily he stood, in despair. Then suddenly hethought of the old brick-yard. It lay less than a mile north, and wasfull of good hiding-places! If he could reach it ahead of them, what withthe daylight now rapidly failing, he would almost certainly be safe. Atonce he turned, and was off with renewed vigor.
And finally, utterly exhausted, but cheered through not having heard asound from his pursuers for the last quarter mile, Alex stumbled into theclearing of the abandoned brick-works, ran low for a distance under coverof a long drying-frame, and scrambling through the low doorway of an oldtile oven, threw himself upon the floor, done out, but confident that atlast he was safe.
As he lay panting and listening, Alex turned his thoughts again to thetrain. Had the foreman made his escape? With so many promptly after him,it seemed scarcely probable. Then the saving of Twenty was still upon hisown shoulders!
And there was little time in which to do anything, for she was due at7:50, and it must be after 7 already!
Could he not reach the switch itself, and throw it back just before thetrain was due? That would be surest. And in the rapidly growing darknessthere should be at least a fair chance of getting by any of theforeigners who might be on the watch.
Determinedly Alex gathered himself together, and crawled back to theentrance. Near the doorway he stumbled over something. "Oh, our oldswitch lantern!" he exclaimed, holding it to the light, and momentarilypaused to examine it. For it had been placed under cover there theprevious fall by himself and some other boys, after being used in a gameof "hold-up" on the brick-yard siding.
"Just as we left it," said Alex to himself, and was about to put itaside, when he paused with a start, studied it sharply a moment, thenuttered a cry, shook it to see that it still contained oil, and scrambledhurriedly forth, taking it with him.
A moment he paused to listen, then set off on the run for the old yardsemaphore, dimly discernible a hundred yards distant. Reaching it, hecaught the lantern in his teeth, and ran up the ladder hand over hand,clambered onto the little platform, and turned toward the town.
Yes! Through the trees the station lamps were plainly visible! With a cryof delight Alex at once set about carrying out his inspiration. Quicklytrimming the lantern wick, he lit it, with his handkerchief tied it tothe semaphore arm, and turned it so that the bull's-eye pointed towardthe station.
Then, catching off his cap, he held it over the bull's-eye, andalternately covering and uncovering the stream of light, began flashingacross the darkness signals that corresponded with the telegraphic callof the Bixton station.
"BX," he flashed. "BX, BX, BX!
"BX, BX--AW (his private sign)! BX, BX, AW!"
The station lights streamed on.
"Qk! Qk! BX, BX!" called Alex.
His right hand tired, and he changed to the left. "Surely they should beon the lookout for me, and see it," he told himself. "For when I gofishing I am always home at--"
One of the station lights disappeared. Breathlessly Alex repeated hiscall, and waited. Was it merely some one pulling down a blind, or--
The light appeared again, then disappeared, several times in quicksuccession, and Alex uttered a joyful "Hurrah!" and turning his wholeattention to the lamp, that the signals might be perfect, began flashingacross the night his thrilling message of warning:
"THE FOREIGN TRACK HANDS--"
From a short distance down the spur came a shout. Startled, Alexhesitated. Again came a cry, then the sound of swiftly running feet.
He had been discovered! In a panic Alex turned and began to scramble downthe ladder. But sharply he pulled up. No! That would be playing thecoward! He must complete the message! And bravely choking down histerror, he climbed back onto the platform, and while the running feet andthreatening cries came nearer every moment, continued his message:
"HANDS ARE--"
"Stop dat! Queek! I shoot! I shoot!" cried the voice of Big Tony,immediately below him. Again for a moment Alex quailed, then again wentbravely on, while the old semaphore rocked and swayed as the enragedItalian threw himself at it and scrambled up toward him.
"GOING TO RUN--"
With a plunge the big trackman reached up and caught him by the ankle,wrenched him back from the lantern, and clambered up beside him. Catchingthe light off the semaphore arm, he thrust it into the boy's face. "Oho!" he exclaimed. "So it you, da station-man boy, eh? An' you da onewhata help Hennessy get away, eh?
"An' whata now you do wid dis?" he demanded fiercely, indicating thelantern.
"If you can't guess, I'm not going to tell you," declared Alex stoutly,though his heart was in his throat.
"O ho! You wonta, eh? Alla right," said Tony softly through his teeth,and in a grim silence more terrifying than the threat of his words, heblew the lantern out, tossed it to the ground, and proceeding to clamberdown, grasped Alex by the leg and dragged him down after.
But help was at hand. As they reached the ground a second tall figureloomed up suddenly out o
f the darkness. "Who dat?" demanded Big Tony. Theanswer was a rush, and a blow, and with a throttled cry of terror the bigtrack worker went to the ground in a heap, the foreman on top of him.
Alex uttered a cry of joy, then with quick wit, while the two men engagedin a terrific struggle, he darted in search of the lantern, found it,fortunately unbroken, and in a trice was again running up the semaphoreladder.
As he once more reached his post on the platform the big Italiansucceeded in breaking from the foreman, scrambled to his feet, and dashedoff across the brick-yard. "Come down, Alex. It's all over," calledHennessy, gathering himself up. "And now we've got to hike right off, amile a minute, for the main-line if we are to stop that train. They ranme so far I only just got back. Unless Twenty's late we--"
"I am trying to stop her from up here," interrupted Alex, relighting thelantern.
"Up there? What do you mean?" exclaimed the foreman.
"Signalling father at the station, with the telegraph code," said Alex ashe replaced the lantern on the semaphore arm. "Come on up."
"Al," said the incredulous foreman as he reached the platform, "can youreally do it?"
"I had it going when that Italian stopped me. Watch."
But Alex was doomed again to interruption. Scarcely had he begun oncemore flashing forth the telegraph call of the station when from thedirection of the woods came a shout, several answers, then a rush offeet.
"Some of the Poles!" exclaimed the foreman. "But you go ahead, Al, andI'll see that they don't get up to interfere," he added, determinedly.
The running figures came dimly into view below. "If any of you idiotscome up here I'll crack your heads!" shouted Hennessy, warningly.
"I've got the station again," announced Alex. "Now it will take only afew minutes."
One of the men below reached the ladder, and, looking up, shoutedthreateningly: "Stop dat! Stop dat, or I shoot!"
"Go ahead, Al," said the foreman, looking down. "He hasn't a gun." Buteven as he spoke there was a flash and a report, and a thud just overAlex's head.
"Yes, stop! Stop!" cried the foreman. "Stop. They've got us. No use beingfoolhardy."
Leaning over, he addressed the men below. "Look here," he said,persuasively, "can't you fellows see that Big Tony is only using you tomake trouble for me, because I fired him for being drunk? As I told youat first, everything he has said is untrue. Why won't you believe it?"
The men were silent a moment, then one of them addressed Alex. "Boy, isdat true?"
"Every word of it," said Alex, earnestly. "And I would have heard allabout it at the station if they had intended cutting your wages, orbringing others here to take your places."
"Den I believe it," said the Pole.
The man with the pistol returned it to his pocket. "I am sorry I shoot,"he said.
"And now, what about the train?" inquired the foreman, quickly. "Did youtouch the switch?"
In the look of guilt the foreigners turned on one another he saw thealarming answer. Whipping out his watch, he held it to the light.
"Alex," he said, sharply, "you have just ten minutes to catch that trainat the Junction! If you don't get her she's gone! There's not time now toget down to the main line from here to flag her!"
Before he had ceased speaking Alex had his cap over the light and wasonce more flashing an urgent "BX! BX! BX!" while below the foreignerslooked on, now with an anxiety equal to that of the two on the tower.
"BX! Qk! Qk!" flashed the lantern.
The station light disappeared. "Got 'em!" cried Alex.
"Just tell them first to stop Twenty at the Junction," said the foreman.
"Right," responded Alex, and while the rest watched in profound silence,he signaled:
"STOP NUMBER 20 AT JUNCTION. SPUR SWITCH IS THROWN. GOT IT?"
As Alex read off the promptly flashed "OK," the foreman sprang to hisfeet and gave vent to a joyful hurrah of relief that echoed again in theclearing and woods. Then, as Alex recovered the lantern, he caught himunder one arm, carried him down the ladder, and there, despite hisobjections, hoisted him to the shoulders of two of the now enthusiasticPoles, and all set off jubilantly down the spur for the switch, and home.
And an hour later Alex's father and mother, anxiously awaiting him at thestation, discovered his approach carried at the head of a sort oftriumphal procession of the entire gang of trackmen.
When Alex's father the following morning reported the occurrence to thechief despatcher, that official called Alex to the wire to congratulatehim personally.
"That was a fine bit of work, my boy," he clicked. "I see you are cut outfor the right kind of railroader. If fourteen wasn't a bit too young Iwould give you a job on the spot. But we will give you a start just assoon as we can, you may be sure."