THE WRECK OF THE LIMITED
The door of the station opened, and the ticket agent rushed in. At a
glance he sized up the situation, the girl on the shelf, screaming, the
excited professor holding his hands over the bananas and three more or
less startled boys looking on.
“What’s the matter?” demanded the agent. “Mildred, has anything
happened? Have these people annoyed you?”
“Oh, no, father. It’s a mouse--a mouse in the bananas, but the
gentleman has captured it. But he acted so queer--he called out so,
and--and----” She stopped, on the verge of tears.
The agent took a step forward. His manner was rather threatening. Jerry
saw that it was time to explain at once.
“It’s all right,” he said in a quiet voice. “We did start to have a
little fun with our friend,” and he nodded at Bob, “but we had no
intention of annoying the young lady. We----”
“Oh, no, they didn’t annoy me, father,” the girl said earnestly. “It’s
only the mouse.”
“It isn’t a mouse at all!” broke in the professor. “It is a very rare
specimen of a long-tailed scorpion and----”
“Oh, a scorpion!” screamed the girl. “That’s worse! Oh, daddy, get a
poker, or something, and kill the horrid thing. I saw one once, all
covered with long hairs--a big spider--Ugh!”
“You are thinking of a tarantula, my dear young lady,” said the
professor calmly. “This is a scorpion, which is entirely different. But
this species is harmless, I do assure you. It wouldn’t bite a fly. I
am very fortunate to have captured it. I saw it on the bananas as soon
as I took off the cover, and I knew I must get it at once, or it would
escape. There, I have it safe,” and he slid a glass cover on the box,
and held out to view some sort of an insect, like a crayfish, with an
extra long tail, which was squirming about under the glass.
“There is the little beauty!” cried the professor with enthusiasm. “It
is worth at least ten dollars, and I am willing to pay that much to
whoever owns it,” and he glanced at the girl.
“Ugh! Take the horrid thing away!” she cried. “Are you sure there are
no more?”
“Not a one. I wish there were,” said the professor, looking carefully
among the bananas.
“Then I’ll come down,” went on the lunch girl, as she blushingly
descended. “I’m sorry I made a scene, but I thought it was a mouse.”
“That’s all right,” spoke Jerry gallantly. “It was our fault for
wanting lunch at this unearthly hour.”
“Oh, I always serve lunch at this time,” spoke the girl. “There’s quite
a crowd comes in from the Denver Express, and they’re ’most always
hungry. They’ll be here in about an hour, won’t they, father? Is the
train on time?”
“About,” replied the agent. “But I don’t exactly understand. Is
everything all right now?”
“I think so,” said Jerry, and he explained how he and Ned had started
to have fun with Bob, how they had made up their minds to have a lunch,
and how Professor Snodgrass had discovered the scorpion amid the
bananas. He told what a learned man the scientist was, always on the
lookout for specimens. Uriah Snodgrass was, by this time, painlessly
preserving his scorpion, and making notes about it, forgetting his
desire to eat. Not so Bob, however, who was eagerly waiting for the hot
chicken pies.
The excitement soon quieted down, and matters having been satisfactorily
explained the ticket agent became very friendly. He told the boys how he
had secured the privilege of running the lunch counter at the station,
and how his daughter, after the death of her mother, had taken charge of
it. By this time the meal was ready, and even the professor sat up and
ate.
“But I don’t see why you serve meals so late,” said Jerry, for it was
now after ten o’clock.
“Oh, we have to accommodate the passengers of the Denver Express,”
explained Miss Harrison, the lunch-girl. “At least they call it an
express, though it doesn’t go very fast.”
“And it comes from Denver?” asked Ned.
“No, it goes _to_ Denver,” she said.
“To Denver?” cried Jerry.
“Yes, it’s the last train out of here to-night. It gets to Denver
to-morrow noon, when it’s on time, and that isn’t very often. But there
are always a lot of travelers who like to stop off here for lunch. The
train waits ten minutes for a freight to clear. So I always come back
here after supper to serve a little lunch. I won’t have much left,
though, if you people come in often,” and with a mischievous look on
her face she glanced at Bob.
“A train to Denver!” cried Jerry. “That’s good news. I didn’t know
there were any more. I supposed when we lost the Limited we were
stranded here for the night. Boys, there’s a chance yet of beating
Noddy Nixon!” he cried.
“Good!” exclaimed Ned. “Then we’ll do it.”
“Sure--we--blub--ugh--will,” added Bob, his mouth full of chicken pie.
“Then finish up!” ordered Jerry. “We’ll arrange to have the auto left
here, and take our baggage on with us. In Denver to-morrow noon! That’s
fine!”
“If you’re on time,” put in the agent. “I meant to tell you about
that last train, but I had some freight matters to look after, and it
slipped my mind. She’ll be along here pretty soon. Better get your
tickets, and have your baggage checked if you’re going.”
“Yes, and we’ve got to attend to our auto,” said Jerry.
“And my specimens!” cried the professor. “I think I will express back
to the college those I have, and begin on a new lot. Oh, how lucky I am
to get the long-tailed scorpion!”
“Oh, don’t speak of it!” cried Miss Harrison.
While Ned ran the auto to the nearest garage and arranged to have it
cared for while the boys were in the West, Jerry and Bob bought the
tickets for Denver, and had the baggage checked. That is, Jerry did
most of the work, while Bob paid occasional visits to the lunch counter.
“Say, Bob,” asked Jerry at length. “Is it the girl or the grub that
you’re fondest of?”
“Ah--er--both!” stammered the fat lad. “Those chicken pies were fine!”
There was some little time to wait after all their preparations were
made, for the Express was late, as usual, and in the interim the boys
and the professor struck up quite an acquaintance with Mr. Harrison
and his daughter. Bob even insisted on buying a lot of sandwiches to
take along on the train, for he said he might get hungry in the night
journey to Denver.
“Well, it’s better than staying in town all night,” remarked Jerry,
when the agent informed him that their train would soon pull in. “But I
wish we had caught the Limited.”
“Well, maybe we’ll get ahead of Noddy yet,” suggested Ned.
The Express pulled in, and a score of hungry passengers besieged pretty
Miss Harrison. She waved good-bye to the boys and the professor, and
then began handing out food. Our friends got aboard, and settled
themselves comfortably for the trip to Denver. At last they were
underway again.
Through the night rushed the Express. Jerry and his friends had taken
sleeping berths, and they stretched out for a long rest, as they were
tired. There was some regret that Noddy was ahead of them, but this
could not be helped.
“What do you think Noddy will do when he gets to Denver; if he arrives
ahead of us?” asked Ned of Jerry, who had the berth below him.
“I don’t know. I hope he doesn’t find out where our airship is, and try
to damage that.”
“He wouldn’t dare!”
“Oh, Noddy would do anything. Still, there’s no use in worrying until
we have to.”
“Say, will you boys get quiet and go to sleep?” begged a nervous man
across the aisle. “I’ve got to get up early.”
“Sorry we disturbed you,” spoke Jerry. “Good-night, Ned.”
“Good-night.”
“Thank goodness!” grunted the fussy man.
There was silence for a moment. Then, from the berth just forward of
Jerry, came an inquiry.
“Jerry, did you see what I did with that specimen of the long-tailed
scorpion?”
“Oh, mercy!” screamed a woman from somewhere in the car. “I hate bugs!”
“You expressed it back to the college with the other things, Professor
Snodgrass,” answered the tall lad.
“Oh, so I did. Good-night.”
“Good-night.”
“Thank goodness!” grunted the fussy man.
There was silence throughout the sleeping car. The train swung on
through the night, making occasional stops. Then came a long run.
Suddenly there was a grinding of brakes. The train was halted so
suddenly that many of the passengers slipped down to the ends of their
berths, all crumpled up. There was a series of shrill whistles.
“What’s the matter?” cried the fussy man. “Are you boys cutting up
again? Can’t you let a man sleep in peace? I’ve got to get up early!”
“Hello! Hello!” cried the professor. “What is it?”
“I don’t know,” answered Jerry. “It isn’t us, anyhow,” he added, for
the benefit of the fussy man.
Just then a brakeman came hurrying through the car.
“What’s up?” asked Jerry, poking his head through the curtains of his
berth.
“Wreck!” was the brief reply. “The Denver Limited, right ahead of us,
has jumped the track. Our engineer stopped just in time, or we’d have
been into her.”
“The Limited wrecked!” gasped Jerry. “It’s a good thing, after all,
that we missed it!”
Then, from somewhere ahead, came screams and cries, and the crash of
axes on wood.