THE RUNAWAY ENGINE
“Did you hear that?” asked Jerry of his two chums, when they were in
the anteroom of the auditorium, and could speak without disturbing the
meeting.
“Sounded as if some one was hurt,” added Ned.
A number of men and boys had come out at the same time as had the three
friends, and one of them now hurried to the door and looked down the
street. There were a number of electric lights, and, as the trees were
bare of leaves, a good view could be had.
“Look at that!” cried the man who had made the observation. “Look!”
“What is it?”
“The fire engine horses are running away!” was the excited answer. “The
driver’s been thrown off, and the horses are pulling the engine down
Hoyt street hill lickity-split! Say, there’ll be a smash-up all right!”
It did seem so, as Ned, Bob and Jerry noted a moment later, when
they hurried out in front of the auditorium and gazed down the
thoroughfare. The engine could plainly be seen, smoke and sparks
pouring from it, for the automatic apparatus, that starts a blaze under
the boiler, had been set going by the engineer as the steamer pulled
out of its quarters.
The engine was a new one for Cresville, being one of two purchased to
replace the old hand-drawn pumping affairs that had so long done duty
in the town.
“Come on!” suddenly exclaimed Jerry Hopkins, and he led his two chums
over toward his auto, the trio having come to the meeting in the
powerful machine.
“What are you going to do?” asked Ned.
“Catch those horses!” replied Jerry as he hurried on.
And in the momentary pause that ensued, while he and his friends were
getting in the car, to give pursuit to the runaway fire engine steeds,
I will take a brief moment to acquaint my new readers with the chief
characters of this story.
Those of you who formed your friendship for the chums in the book
called “The Motor Boys,” know Ned, Bob and Jerry full well by this time.
Jerry Hopkins was the son of a rich widow of Cresville, and was the
leader of the trio, the three boys having been chums, friends and
inseparable companions for many years. Bob Baker, otherwise known as
“Chunky,” was the son of Andrew Baker, a banker of the town, while Ned
Slade’s father kept the chief department store in Cresville. As already
stated, this town, or city, as its more enthusiastic admirers called
it, was in New England, not far from Boston.
As may be guessed from the title of the first book, the lads were much
interested in machines propelled by gasoline motors. Their initial
venture was with motor cycles, after their bicycle days, and then they
secured an automobile, in which they went on many a tour, even down
into Mexico, as related in other volumes of the “Motor Boys Series.”
They later acquired a motor boat and voyaged on the Atlantic and
Pacific, and several books are devoted to their activities in this
regard. As might be expected, the perfection of the aeroplane gave the
boys a chance for new activities, and they ventured above the clouds
more than once.
From the heights to the depths was a natural descent, and a submarine
took the motor boys under the ocean where they had more than one
thrill. Then they went back to their motor car and boat again; and had
more exciting times on road and river.
In “The Motor Boys at Boxwood Hall; or, Ned, Bob and Jerry as
Freshmen,” the seventeenth book of this series, you will find our
heroes in a new phase. Too long, their parents decided, had they been
living a free and careless life, with no systematic studying to fit
them for the struggle that lay before them. So they were sent to school
again, and Boxwood Hall was the place selected for them.
Because a certain clique there had the idea that these lads regarded
themselves too seriously, there was a conspiracy formed against Ned,
Bob and Jerry at the school, and they entered under a handicap. How
they worked it off, and came in “first under the wire,” will be found
fully set down. Also may be read how the faithful trio, at the last
moment, turned what might have been an athletic defeat into victory,
and, incidentally, helped a fellow student to develop his character
along the right lines.
Mr. Slade and Mr. Baker were financially interested in a certain
western cattle ranch, and when it was learned that serious thefts had
taken place there the motor boys were eager to go out and try to solve
the mystery. How they did is told in “The Motor Boys on a Ranch.”
From then on matters at Boxwood Hall went more smoothly, and Ned, Bob
and Jerry were accorded the place to which they were entitled.
They had now come home for the Easter vacation, to find their town
plunged in war excitement, in which the whole country shared.
“Do you mean you’re going to chase after that engine in this car?”
asked Bob, as he managed to fling himself into the rear seat, while
Jerry and Ned took the front one and the former started the motor.
“That’s just what I’m going to do,” Jerry answered. “If Jim Foster, the
driver, has been thrown off, there’s no one aboard to stop the fire
horses.”
“Well, Jim was thrown off all right!” exclaimed Ned. “They’ve picked
him up, and are carrying him into Doctor Newton’s place.”
“Hank Tedder, the engineer, is hanging on all right,” added Bob, as he
peered down the street and observed a man clinging to the rear of the
swaying engine.
“Yes, but he can’t climb over and get into Foster’s seat and stop the
horses,” decided Jerry, as he turned on more speed and swung his big
touring car after the engine ahead of him. “This is the only way to
stop those frightened horses.”
“Unless some one gets in front of ’em and brings ’em up,” added Ned.
“Who’d take a risk like that?” asked Bob, from the rear seat. “In fact,
I don’t see how you are going to work it, Jerry.”
“I don’t quite know myself; but I’m going to try. You know the way a
mounted policeman stops a runaway team is to ride up alongside of
them, get his horse to going at the same speed as the bolters, and then
gradually bring them to a stop.”
“And you’re going to try that?” asked Bob, incredulously.
“Sure! Why not? It’s the only thing to do,” answered Jerry, calmly. “If
those horses keep on down the Hoyt street hill they’ll go smack into
the river! It’s a pity they didn’t get auto engines while they were at
it.”
“That’s right!” agreed Ned. “Keep on, Jerry, old man!”
“I will! Hold tight, though, fellows, when it comes to the last lap.
There may be an upset!”
Indeed the boys were taking a desperate chance. The frightened horses,
hitched to the heavy engine, were pulling it along at top speed, and
the downward slope of the street added to their momentum. As yet
the grade was gradual, but, a little farther on, the slant was more
decided, leading down to the river.
Hoyt street turned at the end, and went along the river bank, but at
the speed they were going it would be impossible for the horses to make
the turn, the boys thought.
By this time a number of persons, some of whom had left the meeting,
were in the street, following after the runaway engine, and shouting
wildly. One or two persons in automobiles started after the speeding
horses, but Jerry’s car was well in the lead, though the horses had a
good start.
The engineer of the steamer, realizing the danger should any
pedestrians or persons in vehicles get in the path of the wild horses,
pulling the tons of steel and fire behind them, kept the whistle going
spasmodically.
The new engine house, as are all those in cities, was fitted with a
device to keep steam at ten pounds pressure constantly in the boiler.
When the engine pulled out this pressure was enough to operate the
whistle, and when the fire was started there was soon steam enough to
work the pump, in case it should prove to be needed.
“Do you see anything of the fire?” asked Bob, as Jerry’s car speeded on.
Ned looked up. The number of the alarm box indicated that it was in
the neighborhood of his father’s large department store. And he was
relieved when he saw no tell-tale glare in the sky. But the danger of
the runaway engine was still present. Could Jerry reach and stop the
team in time?