CHAPTER XIV.
A RACE AGAINST TIME.
SEVERAL events combined to make Myles regret seeking shelter in thatcabin instead of pushing on with ever so slight a chance of reachingthe town in safety, or camping out under some tree and bearing thenight’s cold and hunger as best he might. To begin with, he lost hismoney in this cabin, or at least he thought he lost it there, when,late the next day, he made the discovery that it was gone. In regardto it he was only certain of two things. One was that he had it safeenough when he reached the cabin, and the other was that he did notgamble it away. Whether he was robbed as he slept, or whether, afterreplacing it in the envelope, it slipped to the ground instead of intohis pocket, as he meant it should, he could not tell. It did not seempossible that either of these things had happened. If he was robbedwhy was not his watch taken also? And he did not believe he couldhave been so careless as to let the package slip to the ground withoutnoticing it. At any rate the money disappeared, and with it went thekindly worded note signed “A Friend in Need.”
The interior of the cabin presented a much more cheerful andcomfortable appearance than was promised by the outside. It containedtwo rooms, in the larger of which a fire was glowing on an amplehearth. The man appeared to be the sole occupant of the place, and,bidding Myles sit down and wait a while, he proceeded to prepare supperfor the hungry reporter.
He was evidently not an inquisitive man; for, as he busied himselfover the fire, he asked no questions. Neither did he volunteer anyinformation, except that it was a dark night and middling cool for theseason. Myles tried to enter into conversation with him, but the manwas so evidently disinclined to talk that he soon gave up the attemptand watched him in silence.
In about half an hour a much better supper than he had dared expectwas ready for him. It consisted of fried ham and eggs, a cup of hottea, plenty of bread and butter, and a dish of preserved peaches. ToMyles it seemed about the best meal he had ever eaten, and he did fulljustice to it, while the man sat silently gazing into the fire andsmoking a short black pipe.
When the reporter had satisfied his appetite he felt more sociable andinclined for a chat than ever; but, though he exerted himself to theutmost to be entertaining, he only succeeded in getting from the man anoccasional yes and no or a grunt that might have meant either. Finally,in despair, he said he guessed he was ready to go to bed. The man rose,knocked the ashes from his pipe, lighted a candle, and led the way tothe other room. There he pointed to the single bed that it containedand told his guest that he might “lay down” on it if he liked. Then,without another word, he set the candle down and went out, closing thedoor behind him.
Thus left to his own devices, Myles examined his surroundingscuriously. The room was a small one, having two windows, but no doorexcept the one by which he had entered. It contained a cot-bed, acouple of chairs, and a rickety bureau. From nails driven into therough board wall hung a few articles of men’s clothing. The youngreporter’s curiosity was quickly satisfied, and, opening one of thewindows wide, for he believed in plenty of fresh air, he blew out thelight, pulled off his shoes, and lay down on the outside of the bed.
For some time he listened to the movements of the man in the adjoiningroom, from which his was only separated by a thin board partition, andto Tige’s uneasy prowlings and occasional growls outside. Then he fellasleep.
Some hours later he was wakened by the dog’s furious barking and theharsh voice of his master bidding him be quiet. Then he heard othervoices, and presently two men entered the outer room. The owner of thecabin evidently met them outside and warned them of his presence; for,as they came in, Myles heard one of them ask in a low tone:
“Who is he, any way?”
“Blest if I know,” was the host’s reply. “He’s a stranger to theseparts, and I reckon he’s harmless. He didn’t ask no leading questions,and if he knows any thing it isn’t on account of my telling.”
“It certainly is not,” thought Myles.
“Is he asleep, do you think?” was the next question.
“I don’t know, but I’ll make an errand into his room and find out.”
Myles instantly closed his eyes and began to breathe heavily. The nextmoment his door was softly opened and his host, with a candle in hishand, tiptoed across the floor and took down a coat that hung on theopposite wall. Then he went out.
“Yes, he’s asleep fast enough,” Myles heard him say.
“Let’s take a look at him,” said one of the men.
Again Myles was obliged to feign sleep while his face was closelyexamined by the new-comers. It was a trying moment, but he succeeded inacting his part so well as to convince them that he was really asleep.
He was greatly relieved when they left the room, and still more so whenhe heard one of them say:
“No, he don’t belong to these parts; but, whoever he is, he sleeps likea log. You must have given him a dose of your sleeping-drops, Bill.”
“Not much I didn’t,” answered Bill, in whose voice Myles recognizedthat of his host. “He didn’t ask for it, and you can bet I wasn’t foolenough to offer it.”
“Well, whether you did or not, you want to offer it to us, and abouttwo gallons of it too. The boys have got a big job on hand, and willneed bracing up before they’ve done with it.”
“What is it?” asked Bill.
“Sh! Not so loud,” answered one of the men.
Then a long conversation followed, but at first it was carried on insuch low tones that Myles only caught a word of it now and then. Aclinking of glasses explained why it gradually grew louder, until atlast every word came plainly to the ears of the young reporter. Thefirst thing that he heard distinctly was:
“Jake Allen was too tender-hearted about it. He sent ’em word that thetrack was in a dangerous condition, and if they came ahead it would beat their own peril. I’d a let ’em come without a word, and find out forthemselves.”
“But I thought Jake Allen was locked up,” said Bill.
“So he was, but he isn’t now. When that fool of a lieutenant carriedoff all his men, or the best part of ’em, what was to hinder the boysfrom slipping into town and letting Jake out? Just nothing at all,and that’s what they did. No, there wasn’t any fuss. It was all donequiet enough, and now that Jake is out they won’t get him in again in ahurry, you can bet on that. We’re just laying for them city roosters,though, and it will serve ’em right if the whole regiment gets pitchedinto the creek. What business have they, anyhow, coming out here tointerfere with us and our rights?”
“Then they are really coming, are they?” asked Bill.
“Coming! Of course they are, a whole train-load of ’em. They got as faras Martin’s yesterday, and, if they make an early start and get alongas fast as they have been doing, they’ll be where we want ’em soonsun’s up.”
“Where’s that?”
“Just this side of Station One. Somewhere on the Horseshoe.”
“Are you going to fight ’em there?”
“Fight? Not much! The boys won’t be there at all; but they are fixingup a little trap to leave behind ’em that’ll do the business. The boyswill be far enough away long before that, though. There isn’t anybodygoing to be caught in this racket.”
From all this Myles concluded that the 50th Regiment from New YorkCity, of whose intended coming he had already heard, was really on itsway to Mountain Junction. Some sort of a trap had been laid for themon the Horseshoe, a sharp curve on the edge of a deep stream that heremembered well. What if the train should be thrown from the trackthere! Why, the result would be simply horrible. They had been warnedof danger, too, and yet would insist upon pushing ahead. Of course theywould do that, though; and Myles thrilled with an honest pride as hethought how the boys of a New York City regiment would laugh at theword “danger.” “It would only make them come ahead all the quicker,”thought he, “for when those fellows are ‘under orders’ obeying themis the first thing they think of, and the danger of doing so the verylast. But it would b
e awful if any thing were to happen to that train.Couldn’t any thing be done to warn them? Couldn’t I do something evennow? If I were only at Mountain Junction, where I ought to be, insteadof ’way off here in the woods—on the wrong side of it too!”
All these thoughts flashed through the young reporter’s mind in aminute, and they were followed by another.
“Was he not under orders as well as the boys of the 50th? Did not hisduty order him to make an effort to warn them of their danger? Ofcourse it did; and the orders of duty, when given as plainly as in thiscase, ought to be obeyed as promptly as those of a city editor. What asplendid thing it would be, too, if he only could get there in time! Itwas certainly worth trying for, and he would make the attempt.”
Stepping softly from his bed he went to the window. What was to hinderhim from leaving the cabin this way? One leg was already over the sill,and the other was about to follow, when a deep growl from just beneaththe window caused him to hurriedly draw back. Tige was on guard.
Then Myles listened at the door. The men were still talking. Why notwalk boldly out and announce his intended departure? No, that wouldnever do. They might take it into their heads to stop him, and theywere three to one.
The sound of moving chairs sent him flying back to the bed, where, toall appearances, he was instantly fast asleep.
“Well, Bill, it’s time for us to be off,” said one of the men. “Trotout your stuff and let us make a start.”
“There isn’t another drop in the house,” answered Bill, “and I reckonyou’ll have to go up to the still with me and get it.”
“All right; but you’d better take a look at that young feller in theother room first.”
Bill looked in, and a single glance satisfied him that his guest was asoblivious of his surroundings as before.
“It’s all right,” he said. “He’s good to sleep till sun-up, and I’llleave Tige to watch him. That dog won’t let any one leave the houseany more than he’d let ’em get in when I ain’t round. He’s a bully oldbull-dog, Tige is, and no one don’t want to trifle with his affections.”
Then the three men, taking a lantern with them, left the cabin, andMyles listened until their voices died away in the distance. Tige hadbeen ordered to stay behind, and he obeyed orders. Myles went to theopen window, and the bull-dog growled at him. He went to the door, andfound Tige already watching in front of it. Here was a pretty fix:caged by a dog, and so much depending upon his liberty! Myles had agreat mind to rush out and fight the dog, but he did not at all fancythe undertaking, nor was he at all certain how such a fight wouldresult.
“If it were only a man,” he thought, “I’d risk it quick enough.”
All at once a bright thought flashed into his mind. Dogs were alwayshungry. Part of his supper had been cut from a large ham that hung bythe fireplace. Striking a match, he easily found it. He took it to theback window. Tige was there. The next moment the ham had been flung inthe direction of his growl, and he was worrying it.
Then, still in his stocking feet, with his shoes in his hand, thereporter stole softly to the front-door which he had left unlatched,and slipped out into the darkness. For five minutes he hardly daredbreathe, as he cautiously felt his way among the rocks and stumps. Atthe end of that time he found a sort of road leading in the directionhe wished to take. After overcoming many difficulties he reached therailroad. Two hours later he was once more at Mountain Junction, havingsafely passed three bridges by crawling on his hands and knees over therailway-ties.
It was now daylight, and another hour would see the sun rise. Whatshould he do next? To whom should he turn for help? As Myles askedhimself these questions he was challenged by the guard at the railwaystation. The reporter asked that the corporal might be summoned, as hehad important information for him.
The corporal was tired, sleepy, and cross. He had heard nothing fromLieutenant Easter, or those who had gone with him, and would notbelieve it when Myles told him they were all prisoners in the handsof the strikers. No, he could not, and he would not if he could, doany thing to help the 50th Regiment. He did not care whether they gotthere or not. Let them look out for themselves if they were so smart asthey claimed to be. Yes, Myles might take the hand-car and go out tomeet them if he wanted to, but he would be a fool for his pains, andwould probably come to grief. The town was surrounded by strikers, whohad sworn not to let any one out or in until their difficulty with thecompany was settled. They would stop the hand-car before it got a mile.Even if they did not, the railroad to the eastward was probably in sucha condition that nothing on wheels could pass over it. Did he knowwhere the telegraph operator could be found? No, he had not seen theoperator for twenty-four hours, and did not believe he was in town.
So, despairing of obtaining any assistance, the young reporter decidedto start off alone, do his best, and get as far as he could. Fortunemight favor him. At any rate, the object for which he was striving wasworth a desperate effort.
The hand-car that he and the operator had used on their trip was wherethey left it, except that it had been lifted from the track and set toone side. The corporal and the man on guard, with much grumbling at thefoolishness of Myles’ undertaking, helped him place it on the rails.Then he started off alone.
The car moved slowly out of the railroad yard, but by the time itreached the town limits it was rattling along at such a speed as onlythe muscular young arms of the best man in a university crew could giveit. It had gone fast on that other trip. Was it days or weeks before?Myles tried to remember, but could not. The recent rush of events hadcompletely driven dates from his mind. At any rate, though the carseemed to go fast on that occasion, it had only crept as comparedwith now. Its speed on that long stretch of down-grade was simplytremendous. It was also wildly exhilarating. But for the breathlessnessof his exertions Myles would have shouted and yelled in his excitement.
“Faster, faster!” rang out the whirring wheels as they spun over thegleaming track, and “Faster, faster, faster!” echoed the rails of steel.
The eastern sky was aglow with rosy light. The sun had nearly climbedto the mountain tops. Still he might be in time. If only he could geton a little faster! If only his muscles were steel and his lungs filledwith steam!
But what is that ahead? A dark space in the shining track. A rail gone.Myles sprang to the brake. Its iron shoe ground fire from the ironwheel. The headlong speed of the car was slackened, but not enough. Itcould not stop before the danger-point was reached. Then came a crash,and Myles was flung forward on the hard road-bed.
Bruised and sadly shaken, but with unbroken bones, he picked himself upand turned to look at the wreck. The car also seemed shaken, but, tohis surprise, it was still whole and serviceable. There was yet hopeif he only could get it over this place and again on the track. Hisexcitement lent him strength, and by a mighty effort he accomplishedthat which, under ordinary circumstances, two men would have founddifficult.
THE CAR PLUNGED FORWARD, TURNED COMPLETELY OVER, ANDCRUSHED POOR MYLES BENEATH IT. (_Page 213._)]
Once more the car was ready for its onward flight. As it started Mylesheard shouts, and, looking back, saw men running and beckoning to him.At the same moment he heard the far-away whistle of a locomotive aheadof him. He bent to the crank, and in another minute his pursuers lostsight of the car and the one straining figure that it bore.
Now it approached the Horseshoe curve. Yes, Myles remembered the placeperfectly. The track looked all right. The sun had risen and he couldsee the line plainly. Perhaps the place from which the rails were tornwas the trap, and he had passed it. Perhaps he was on hand and withtime to spare.
Suddenly the rails of the track seemed to give from under him. The carplunged forward, turned completely over, and crushed poor Myles beneathit in such a manner that he was powerless to move. As he lay there heheard, loud, clear, and close at hand, the shrill whistle and the roarof an approaching train.