It was quite late and the usual hum and buzz of masculine voices in the
smoking room were missing. The train went screeching through the dark,
rainy night, indifferent to all else save the purpose of its own mission
in life.
Westy and Rip were sitting opposite one another, trying to penetrate the
inky blackness outside the dripping window panes. Nothing but a shroud
of blackness covered the earth. They gave it up.
“Gee, I’ll be glad to walk on the ground again,” Rip said, breaking the
silence.
“Here, too,” agreed Westy. “Morning can’t come quick enough to suit me.”
Mr. Wilde, occupying the seat with them, laid down the book he had been
reading and grinned genially.
“Getting kind of restless, eh, kids?”
“I’ll say we are!” said Rip, spokesman for the two. “Do we hoof it very
much, Unk, after we leave this ring-tailed roarer in the morning?”
“Somewhat. I dare say you’ll both have enough walking by the time we’re
ready to come back. We are to start out from a place called Wakarusa.
Outfit will be all ready for us to get away at once. No waiting, thank
goodness.”
“Outfit?” queried Rip. “What’s this going to be, Unk; another covered
wagon affair?”
“Not so’s you’ll ever notice it. Catch you modern kids traveling in a
covered wagon. With all that either of you have learned about scouting
I’d like to see what you’d do with the few necessities that the old
pioneers had to do with in the days on the Old Trail.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Westy protested. “Uncle Jeb gave me a lot of dope
that I could use in a tight pinch. We could do a lot if we had to, eh,
Rip?”
“Betcha life,” he replied airily. “We could show some of these modern
pikers a thing or two.”
It is to be seen that when it came to getting on the defensive side of
scouting, Westy and Rip pledged a momentary truce and became kindred
spirits, to Mr. Wilde’s enjoyment. He was having the time of his life
kidding them.
“All right, scouts, I hope you will get the chance to show me then some
day. But I am afraid you’re going to be disappointed on this trip if
you’ve been looking forward to anything more exciting than shooting the
scenery. I gave my solemn promise to both your parents that I’d keep the
watchful eye all over. When we get back home you and Westy can give me a
few exhibitions of your skill and prowess in the back-to-nature bunk in
Martin’s back yard.”
This was adding insult to injury of course, but neither of them could
make a come-back. Mr. Wilde could see by their expressions that the
parental promise hadn’t made a very big hit with them at all.
Billy, who had been peacefully dozing throughout the discussion, came to
with a yawn.
“’S no use sitting up listening to the rain all night. What d’you say?”
He addressed them all.
“I guess we better,” answered Mr. Wilde, and motioning to the boys as he
walked toward the open doorway. “Better turn in, boys. We get out pretty
early.”
“Gosh, I don’t feel a bit like it, do you, Wes?”
“Naw, I’m too excited to think about it even. They say all those old
pioneers like Kit Carson and Uncle Dick Wooton hardly ever slept at all.
They had to keep awake and watch for the Indians.”
“Watcha talking about? They didn’t watch for the Indians at all,” he
contradicted in a superior tone of voice.
“What did they do then, huh?”
“Went out and got ’em red-handed. They had to, because they were
redskins, get me?”
“Do I get you? I’m way ahead of you.”
“You score all right. You know what?”
“What?”
“I’d like to be a fireman on this road when I get older.”
“Not me. I’d rather be the engineer. Why’d you like to be the fireman,
Rip?”
“They got better chances of seeing what’s going on while they’re riding
and the engineer has to keep his mind and eyes straight ahead.”
“Gee, that’s right.” Westy was beginning to recognize the superior
intelligence of his new friend and felt more kindliness toward him.
A few minutes after the porter entered, his arms occupied by various
sizes and shapes of various colored shoes. Westy rose and Rip followed
suit.
It lacked another minute before midnight would open her portals to
welcome the infant day, and still Westy lay wide-eyed in his berth,
staring into the darkness. Rip’s heavy breathing above him and the
occasional light creak of the springs, betrayed the fact that Rip’s
sleep was by no means dreamless.
Wes listened intently as the wheels glided on in flight. Sometimes it
gave him the sensation that they weren’t in motion at all, for the
roadbed was so smooth that the Limited annihilated the miles like a
winged serpent.
They went over a crossing, for he could hear the bell as they passed
tinkling its warning of danger to the unwary. Then all lapsed into
silence again save the steady drowsy hum of the engine.
Yes, all was silent in the Pullman, too. Silent, except for the loud
nasal chorus of those who would proclaim to the whole world their
slumbering state. The porter, his cares laid aside for the time, was
also contributing his bit in a minor key and at intervals he became very
entertaining and shifted down to something that sounded like a bass
note, but producing a weird echo like that of a rattlesnake dying. Westy
was sure he preferred the minor key; it was much more comforting to
hear.
He thought after a while that an hour or more must have passed. His eyes
burned for the want of sleep and his throat was awful dry. Poking his
head through the curtain he ascertained whether there was any one about.
Not a soul anywhere at either end. Good thing they had the end section;
he wouldn’t have to slip anything on. Padding out to the water cooler,
he quenched his thirst hurriedly and got back in his berth again without
encountering any one, and tried his luck at sleeping for the hundredth
time.
Suddenly he felt an impact that fairly shook him in his berth. The
emergency brake most likely, and in the next moment he knew he reasoned
about right as the whole car seemed to throb and tremble before coming
to a dead stop.
“Gee,” he whispered softly to himself, lying with eyes wide and ears
straining for some sound, “every one else but me must be unconscious if
that didn’t wake them.”
Evidently no one had heard anything, nor were they aware of the
stationary attitude of the train. The heavy breathing and loud snores
continued uninterrupted as before.
Of course, it wasn’t such an unusual thing for a fast train to stop
suddenly out on the plains at night, nor anywhere else for that matter.
But, he reasoned, it was unusual for the emergency brake to be applied
as it was and then stand as they did without even a whistle or warning
of any kind.
Save for the patter of the falling rain there was a dead silence; not a
human sound outside and yet that very silence was pregnant with danger.
Westy got up and dressed.