CROSSING THE ALLEGHANIES.
So little “Prince Dusty,” by remembering what he had been taught, and
having the common-sense to put it into practice, was able to prevent a
terrible disaster. Some boys of his age would have been so frightened at
finding themselves in a runaway car, plunging madly down a
mountain-side, that they would have become panic-stricken and utterly
powerless to help themselves or others. They would have, as people say,
lost their heads; but Arthur was not one of the kind who lose their
heads. He had been sensibly brought up by his practical father, and
taught to face emergencies coolly and calmly. Young as he was, he had
learned to stop and think “What is the best thing to be done?” and then
to do it promptly to the very best of his ability. It does not take long
to think. If the brain is clear and steady, a great many thoughts can
flash through it in a second; and one moment thus spent is worth a
lifetime of thoughtless action.
It would be absurd to claim that Arthur had not been frightened on this
occasion. He had never been so frightened in his life, and it is to be
hoped that he never will be again; but he was too brave a boy to allow
his fright to obtain control of him. Now that the time for being cool
and calm, and for prompt action, had passed, he felt weak and faint, and
was very glad to be picked up and borne tenderly back to the caboose, in
Conductor Tobin’s strong arms. There Uncle Phin was waiting to throw his
arms about his “lil Marse,” and to “tank de good Lawd” for letting him
be the brave, splendid boy that he was.
The runaway caboose was hauled up to where the rest of its train was
waiting on the siding for it, and the “Keystone Express” followed
slowly. Here it stopped for a few minutes, while its engineer and
conductor, and the conductors of the sleeping-cars, all crowded into the
caboose to see and shake hands with the boy who had saved their lives,
and to thank him with trembling voices. They wanted Arthur and Uncle
Phin and Rusty to go with them, and travel, surrounded by every comfort
and luxury that their train could afford; but Arthur said he would
rather stay where he was. This decision made Conductor Tobin and
Brakeman Joe very happy, for they were so proud of their young “railroad
man,” as they called him, that they could not bear the thought of
parting with him.
So, with many a full-hearted “God bless you!” and “We’ll not forget you
in a hurry,” the trainmen of the “Keystone Express” went back to their
places, and it rolled away over the mountains, without its sleeping
passengers being any the wiser for what had happened. Nor did they ever
know of the danger they had escaped; for passengers on railway trains
are never told, if it can be helped, of their narrow escapes from
accidents. It might make them timid about riding in the cars.
Only one passenger knew. He was an elderly gentleman, who, unable to
sleep, had been lying in a lower berth, gazing out into the darkness
through his uncurtained window. He knew of the sudden and unusual
stopping of the train, had seen the swinging lanterns, and had noticed
the engineer and conductors of his own train crowding into the caboose
of Freight No. 15. When the express was once more in motion, he called
the porter of the sleeping-car, and made him tell all he knew of what
had taken place.
When the story was finished, the elderly gentleman sighed regretfully,
and said he wished he had known of it in time to go and see that boy for
himself. He had no boys of his own, and had never cared much for them;
but recent circumstances had caused him to change his mind, and long for
one. He had even come to regard all boys with interest, and now wished
he might have known the brave little fellow whose courage and promptness
of action had, in all probability, saved his life.
After the express had passed on, and Freight No. 15 was again pounding
heavily along over the steel rails, Conductor Tobin and Brakeman Joe sat
by the little caboose stove and talked over the events of the past half
hour. Arthur lay quietly on the blanket-covered bench, with Rusty curled
up at his feet, and Uncle Phin, sitting close beside him, held one of
his hands, as though fearful of losing him.
The two men told each other what a wonderful thing it was that these
stowaways had chosen their particular train, and how thankful they were
that they had not left them at Arden, as they at first intended. They
could not tire of praising the boy for remembering what they had just
taught him, and for being so ready to act upon it. They praised Uncle
Phin, too, for his share of the night’s work, and even little Rusty was
petted and praised for barking to wake Arthur when the caboose broke
loose.
Brakeman Joe said that the boy was so evidently cut out for a railroad
man that it would be a pity if he should ever try to become anything
else. He even went so far as to offer Arthur and Uncle Phin a home with
his old father, promising to teach the former all he knew of
railroading, and to get him a place as water-boy on a passenger train.
Arthur gratefully declined this offer, and said he thought they had
better keep on with their journey to the home in which he belonged. At
the same time a genuine love for railroads and everything connected with
them, even including their dangers, had entered his heart that night,
and he determined that some day he would not only be a railroad man, but
a famous one.
They had now passed the summit of the Alleghanies, and day was dawning.
As the night mists rolled away, and the magnificent panorama of
mountain, hill, and valley began to unfold beneath them, Arthur climbed
up into the cupola to watch it. He had never witnessed so glorious a
sunrise as that now flashed back by the clear waters of the Juniata,
which laughed and rippled beside the track. As he drew in long breaths
of the fresh mountain air and gazed on the marvellous beauty of the
ever-widening landscape, the mere fact of being alive and able to enjoy
it all filled him with happiness.
During the morning Freight No. 15 rumbled heavily across the Susquehanna
River and into the beautiful old city of Harrisburg, the proud capital
of one of the greatest and wealthiest States of the Union. Here it was
turned over to a new crew of trainmen, while Conductor Tobin, Brakeman
Joe, and the others who had brought it thus far were at liberty to seek
their homes and a well-earned rest.
Conductor Tobin insisted upon taking our travellers home with him, and,
though Brakeman Joe would gladly have had them as his guests, he was
obliged to yield to the claims of his superior officer. So they all went
to the neat little cottage, not far from the railroad, where, when
warm-hearted Mrs. Tobin learned from her husband what Arthur and Uncle
Phin and Rusty had done, she took the boy at once into her arms and
heart, and shook hands with the old negro, and petted the dog, and said
that her house was honored by having such distinguished guests under its
roof. Then she prepared an extra fine dinner for the occasion, and even
little Rusty was allowed to sit at the table and have his share of it,
“just like folks,” as Mrs. Tobin said.
After dinner Arthur won Kitty’s heart by reading stories to her out of
his precious book, and Uncle Phin won it by carving toys out of bits of
soft pine with his jack-knife, and Rusty won it by performing all his
tricks and playing with her.
That evening Conductor Tobin produced a railroad folder that contained a
map. On this they traced out the course of the journey yet to be
undertaken to the point on the James River not far from Richmond,
Virginia, where Uncle Phin said Dalecourt was located. When their route
had been carefully marked in red ink the map was entrusted to Arthur for
their future guidance.