The Runaway Spoil Train
Barely a mile of the double track of the Panama railway stretched
between the inspection car, on which Jim was racing for his life, and
the oncoming passenger train. Glancing over his shoulder he could see
the smoke billowing from the locomotive and the escape steam blowing out
between her leading wheels. Behind him there was the scrunch, the
grinding roar, of the long line of steel wheels carrying the runaway
spoil train. He kneeled on his driving seat and looked first one way and
then the other, hesitating what to do. The rush of air, as he tore
along, sent his broad-brimmed hat flying, and set his hair streaking out
behind him. His eyes were prominent, there was desperation written on
his face; but never once did he think of taking the advice which the
megaphone man flung at him.
"Jump for it! No! I won't!" he declared stubbornly to himself. "I'll
stick here till there's no chance left; then I'll bring this machine up
sharp, and leave her as a buffer between the spoil train and the one
bearing passengers. Not that she'll be of much use. That heavy line of
cars will punch her out of the way as if she were as light as a bag; but
something might happen. The frame of this car might lift the leading
wheels of the spoil train from the tracks and wreck her."
There was an exhaust whistle attached to his car, and he set it sounding
at once, though all the time his eyes drifted from passenger train to
spoil train, from one side of the track to the other. Suddenly there
came into view round a gentle bend a mass of discarded machinery. He
remembered calling Phineas's attention to it some weeks before. Broken
trucks, which had once conveyed dirt from the cut at Culebra for the
French workers, had been run from the main track on to a siding and
abandoned there to the weather, and to the advance of tropical
vegetation, that, in a sinister, creeping manner all its own, stole upon
all neglected things and places in this canal zone, and wrapped them in
its clinging embrace, covering and hiding them from sight, as if ashamed
of the work which man had once accomplished. Jim remembered the spot,
and that it was one of the unattended switching stations rarely
used--for here the tracks of the railway were less encumbered with spoil
trains--yet a post for all that where the driver of an inspection car
might halt, might descend and pull over the lever, and so direct his car
into the siding.
"I'll do it," he told himself. "If only I can get there soon enough to
allow me to reach the lever."
He measured the distance between himself and the pursuing spoil train,
and noted that it had increased. His lusty little engine, rattling away
beneath its crumpled bonnet, was pulling the car along at a fine pace.
True, the velocity was not so great as it had been when descending the
first part of the incline, that leading out of the Culebra cut; but
then the swift rush of the spoil train was also lessened. The want of
fall in the rails was telling on her progress, though, to be sure, she
was hurtling along at a speed approximating to fifty miles an hour; but
the bump she had given to Jim's car had had a wonderful effect. It had
shot the light framework forward, and, with luck, Jim determined to
increase the start thus obtained.
"But it'll be touch and go," he told himself, his eye now directed to
the switching station, just beyond which the mass of derelict French
cars lay. "There's one thing in my favour: the points open from this
direction. If it had been otherwise I could have done nothing, for, even
if I had attempted to throw the point against the spoil train, the pace
she is making would carry her across the gap. Why don't that fellow on
the passenger engine shut off steam and reverse? Ain't he seen what's
happening?"
He scowled in the direction of the approaching passenger train, and
knelt still higher, shaking his fists in that direction. It seemed that
the man must be blind, that his attention must be in another direction;
for already the line of coaches was within five hundred yards of the
points which had attracted Jim's attention, and he realized that she
would reach the spot almost as soon as the spoil train would.
"'Cos she's closer," he growled. "If he don't shut off steam, anything I
may be able to do will be useless. He'll cross the switch and come head
on to the collision."
A minute later he saw a man's figure swing out from the cab of the
locomotive on which his eyes were glued, while a hand was waved in his
direction. Then a jet of steam and smoke burst from the funnel, while
white clouds billowed from the neighbourhood of the cylinders. Even
though it was broad daylight, Jim saw sparks and flashes as the wheels
of the locomotive were locked and skated along the rails.
"He's seen it; he knows!" he shouted. "But he ain't got time to stop her
and reverse away from this spoil train. If that switch don't work
there's bound to be a bad collision."
There was no doubt as to that point. The driver and fireman aboard the
locomotive recognized their danger promptly, and, like the bold fellows
they were, stuck to their posts.
"Brakes hard!" shouted the former, jerking his steam lever over, and
bringing the other hand down on that which commanded the reverse. "Hard,
man! As hard as you can fix 'em! Be ready to put 'em off the moment
she's come to a standstill. This is going to be a case with us, I
reckon. That spoil train's doing fifty miles an hour if she's doing one.
We can't get clear away from her, onless----"
He blew his whistle frantically, and once more leaned out far from his
cab, waving to the solitary figure aboard the flying inspection car.
"Onless what?" demanded the fireman brusquely, his eyes showing
prominently in his blackened face, his breath coming fast after his
efforts; for both hand and vacuum brakes had been applied.
"Onless that 'ere fellow aboard the inspection car manages to reach the
points in time and switch 'em over. Guess he's tryin' for it; but there
ain't much space between him and the spoil train. There's goin' ter be
an almighty smash."
Thus it appeared to all; for by now men, invisible before, had appeared
at different points, and were surveying the scene, holding their breath
at the thought of what was about to happen.
"Best get along to the telephone and send 'way up to Gorgona for the
ambulance staff," said one of these onlookers. "That 'ere passenger
train ain't got a chance of gettin' clear away. She ain't got the room
nor the time. Fust the spoil train'll run clear over the inspection car,
and grind it and the chap aboard to powder. Then she'll barge into the
passenger, and, shucks! there'll be an unholy upset. Get to the
telephone, do yer hear!"
He shouted angrily at his comrade, overwrought by excitement, and then
set off to run towards the points for which Jim was making. As for the
latter, by strenuous efforts, by jagging at his levers, he had contrived
to get his engine to run a little faster, and had undoubtedly increased
his lead over the spoil train. He was now, perhaps, a long hundred yards
in advance.
"Not enough," he told himself. "Going at this pace it'll take time to
stop, though the brakes aboard this car are splendid. I know what I'll
do. Keep her running till I'm within fifty yards, then throw her out of
gear, jam on the brakes, and jump for it just opposite the switch. I'll
perhaps be able to roll up to it in time to pull that train over."
It was the only method to employ, without doubt, though the risk would
not be light. For, while a motor car on good hard ground can be brought
to a standstill within fifty yards when going at a great pace, when
shod with steel wheels and running on a metal track the results are
different. Jim's steed lacked weight for the work. Though he might lock
his wheels, they would skate along the tracks, and reduce his pace
slowly. The leap he contemplated must be made from a rapidly moving car.
That might result in disaster.
"Better a smash like that than have people aboard the train killed by
the dozen," he told himself. "Those points are two hundred yards off; in
a hundred I set to at it."
He cast a swift glance towards the passenger train, which was now
retreating, and then one at the spoil train. He measured the distance
between himself and the latter nicely. Then he dropped his toe on the
clutch pedal, and his hand on the speed lever. Click! Out shot the
gears, while the engine raced and roared away as if it were possessed.
But Jim paid no attention to it. He let it continue racing, and at once
jammed on his brakes. It made his heart rise into his mouth when he
noticed with what suddenness the spoil train had recovered the interval
between them. She was advancing upon him with leaps and bounds. It
seemed as if he were not moving. With an effort he took his eyes from
the rushing trucks, and fixed them upon the points he hoped to be able
to operate. They were close at hand. His glance was caught by the
operating lever. The moment for action had arrived, while still his car
progressed at a pace which would have made the boldest hesitate to leap
from it. But Jim made no pause, more honour to him. He left his seat,
placed one hand on the side of the car, and vaulted into space. The
ground at the side of the track struck the soles of his feet as if with
a hammer, doubling his knees up and jerking his frame forward. The
impetus which the moving car had imparted to his body sent him rolling
forward. He curled up like a rabbit struck by the sportsman at full
pace, and rolled over and over. Then with a violent effort he arrested
his forward movement. With hands torn, and every portion of his body
jarred and shaken, he brought his mad onward rush to a standstill, and,
recovering from the giddiness which had assailed him, found that he was
close to the all-important lever governing the points. With a shout Jim
threw himself upon it, tugged with all his might, and jerked the points
over.
[Illustration: "JIM TUGGED WITH ALL HIS MIGHT"]
Meanwhile the thunder of the spoil train had grown louder. The scrunch
of steel tyres on the rails, and the grinding of the flanges of the
wheels against the edges of the track drowned every other sound, even
the singing which Jim's tumble had brought to his ears. The runaway,
with all its impetus and weight rushing forward to destroy all that
happened to be in its path, was within a yard of the points when our
hero threw his weight on the lever. The leading wheels struck the points
with violence, and Jim, watching eagerly, saw the rims mount up over the
crossway. Then the bogie frame jerked and swung to the right, while the
four wheels obeyed the direction of the points and ran towards the
side track. But it was when the first half of the leading car had
passed the points that the commotion came. The dead weight of the
contents--projected a moment earlier directly forward--were of a sudden
wrenched to one side. The strain was tremendous. Something was bound to
give way under it, or the car would capsize.
As it happened, the wreck was brought about by a combination of
movements. The front bogie of the truck collapsed, the wheels being torn
from their axles. At the same moment the huge mass capsized, flinging
its load of rock and dirt broadcast across the track. The noise was
simply deafening, while a huge dust cloud obscured the actual scene of
the upset from those who were looking on. But Jim could see. As he clung
to the lever he watched the first truck come to grief in an instant.
After that he himself was overwhelmed in the catastrophe; for the
remaining trucks piled themselves up on the stricken leader. The second
broke its coupling and mounted on the first; while the third, deflected
to one side, shot past Jim as if it were some gigantic dart, and swept
him and the lever away into space. The remainder smashed themselves into
matchwood, all save five in rear, which, with retarded impetus, found
only a bank of fallen dirt and rock that broke the collision and left
them shaking on the track. When the onlookers raced to the spot, and the
people aboard the passenger train joined them, there was not a sight of
the young fellow who had controlled the inspection car and had saved a
disastrous collision.
"Guess he's buried ten feet deep beneath all that dirt and stuff," said
one of the men, gazing at the ruin. "I seed him run to the lever. Run,
did I say? He jest rolled, that's what he did. He war just in time,
though, and then, gee! there war a ruction. I've seen a bust-up on a
railway afore, but bless me if this wasn't the wildest I ever seed. Did
yer get to the telephone?"
His comrade reassured him promptly.
"I rung 'em up at Gorgona," he answered. "There's a dirt train coming
along with the ambulance and Commission doctor aboard, besides a
wrecking derrick. That young chap saved a heap of lives you'd reckon?"
It was in the nature of a question, and the answer came from the first
speaker speedily.
"Lives! a full trainload, man. I seed his game from the beginning, and
guess it war the only manoeuvre that was worth trying. It was a race
for the points, and the man aboard the inspection car won by a short
head. He hadn't more'n a second or two to spare once he got a grip of
the lever; but I reckon he's paid his own life for the work. He war a
plucked 'un--a right down real plucked 'un!"
He stared fiercely into the eyes of the other man, as if he challenged
him to deny the statement; but there were none who had seen this fine
display of courage who had aught but enthusiasm for it. There was no
dissentient voice; the thing was too plain and palpable.
"Some of you men get searching round to see if you can find a trace of
that young fellow," cried one of the Commission officials who happened
to come running up at this moment. "If he's under this dirt he'll be
smothered while we're talking."
Every second brought more helpers for the task, and very soon there were
a hundred men round the wreck of the spoil train; for the driver of
the passenger train had stopped his reverse movement as soon as he
saw that all danger for his own charge had gone. Then he had steamed
forward till within a foot of the inspection car which Jim had driven.
The latter, thanks to the fact that the brake was jammed hard on, came
to a halt some thirty yards beyond the points, and stood there with its
engine roaring. But the fireman quickly shut off the ignition.
Passengers poured from the coaches--for it happened that a number of
officials were making a trip to the far end of the Culebra cut to
inspect progress--and at once hastened to the side of the wreck. But
search as they might there was no trace of the lad who had saved so many
lives by his gallantry and resourcefulness.
"Come here and tell me what you think of this," suddenly said one of the
officials, drawing his comrades after him to the tail end of the train,
to the shattered remains of the two trucks which had overturned at a
bend, and which had been trailing and clattering along the track in wake
of the spoil train. He invited their inspection of the couplings which
had bound the last of the cars to the locomotive. There came a whistle
of surprise from one of his friends, while something like a shout of
indignation escaped another.
"Well?" demanded the first of the officials. "What's your opinion?"
"That this was no accident. This train broke away from her loco. when
she was on the incline because some rascal had cut through the
couplings. That, sir, 's my opinion," answered the one he addressed,
with severity.
There was agreement from all, so that, at the first examination, and
before having had an opportunity of questioning those who had been in
charge of the spoil train, it became evident that there had been foul
play, that some piece of rascality had been practised.
"But who could think of such a thing? There's never been any sort of
mean game played on us before this. Whose work is it?" demanded one of
the officials hotly.
"That's a question neither you nor I can answer," instantly responded
another. "But my advice is that we say not a word. There are but six of
us who know about the matter. Let us report to the chief, and leave him
to deal with it. For if there is some rascal about, the fact that his
work is discovered will warn him. If he thinks he has hoodwinked
everyone there will be a better opportunity of discovering him."
The advice was sound, without question, so that, beyond arranging to get
possession of the coupling, which showed that it had fractured opposite
a fine saw cut, the party of officials preserved silence for the moment.
Meanwhile American hustle had brought crowds of helpers to the spot. A
locomotive had steamed down from Gorgona, pushing a wrecking derrick
before it, and within thirty minutes this was at work, with a crew of
willing helpers. A gang of Italian spademen was brought up from the
other direction, and these began to remove the rock and dirt. As to Jim,
not a trace of him was found till three of the overturned and wrecked
trucks had been dragged clear by the wrecking derrick. It was then that
the actual site of the lever which operated the points was come upon,
the most likely spot at which to discover his body.
"We'll go specially easy here," said the official who was directing
operations. "Though one expects that the man is killed, and smothered by
all this dirt, yet you never can say in an accident of this sort. I've
known a life saved most miraculously."
The hook at the end of the huge chain run over the top of the derrick
was attached to the forward bogie of the overturned car, then the whole
thing was lifted. Underneath was found a mass of dirt and rock which the
impetus of the car had tossed forward. At the back, just beneath the
edge of the truck, where it had thrust its way a foot into the ground,
one of the workers caught sight of an arm with the fingers of the hand
protruding from the debris. "Hold hard!" he shouted. "He's here. Best
wait till we've tried to pull him out. The car might swing on that chain
and crush him."
They kept the end of the wrecked truck suspended while willing hands
sought for our hero. A man crept in under the truck, swept the earth
away, and passed the listless figure of the young car driver out into
the open. Jim was at once placed on a stretcher, while the Commission
surgeon bent over him, dropping a finger on his pulse. He found it
beating, very slowly to be sure, but beating without doubt, while a deep
bruise across the forehead suggested what had happened. A rapid
inspection of his patient, in fact, convinced the surgeon that there was
no serious damage.
"Badly stunned, I guess," he said. "I can't find that any bones are
broken, and though I thought at first that his skull must be injured,
everything points to my fears being groundless. Put him in the
ambulance, boys, and let's get him back to hospital."
An hour later our hero was safely between the sheets, with a nurse
superintending his comfort. By the time that Phineas arrived on the
scene he was conscious, though hardly fit for an interview; but on the
following morning he was almost himself, and chafed under the nurse's
restraint till the surgeon gave him permission to get up.
"As if I was a baby," he growled. "I suppose I fell on my head, and that
knocked me silly. But it's nothing; I haven't more than the smallest
headache now."
"Just because you're lucky, young fellow," quizzed the surgeon. "Let me
say this: the tumble you had was enough to knock you silly, and I dare
say that if you hadn't had something particular to do you would have
gone off at once. But your grit made you hold on to your senses. That
car, when it overturned, as near as possible smashed your head into the
earth beneath it. You'll never be nearer a call while you're working
here on the canal. Low diet, sister, and see that he keeps quiet."
Jim glowered on the surgeon and made a grimace. "Low diet indeed! Why,
he felt awful hungry."
But no amount of entreaty could influence the nurse, and, indeed, it
became apparent to even our hero himself that the course of procedure
was correct. For that evening he was not so well, though a long,
refreshing sleep put him to rights.
"And now you can hear something about the commotion the whole thing's
caused," said Phineas, as he put Jim into a chair in his parlour, and
ordered him with severity to retain his seat. "Orders are that you keep
quiet, else back you go right off to the hospital. Young man, there were
forty-two souls aboard that passenger train, and I reckon you saved 'em.
Of course, there are plenty of wise heads that tell us that the driver,
when he'd stopped his train, should have turned all the passengers out.
Quite so, sir; but then it takes time to do that. You might not have
opened the points, and the spoil train would have been into them before
the people could climb down out of the cars. So the general feeling is
that everyone did his best, except the villain who cut that coupling
half through. They've told you about it?"
Jim nodded slowly. "Who could have done such a miserable and wicked
thing?" he asked. "Not one of the white employees."
"It don't bear thinking about," said Phineas sharply. "No one can even
guess who was the rascal. Leave the matter to the police; they're making
quiet enquiries. But there's to be a testimonial, Jim, a presentation
one evening at the club, and a sing-song afterwards."
"What? More!" Jim groaned. "Let them take this testimonial as presented.
I'll come along to the sing-song."
"And there's to be promotion for a certain young fellow we know,"
proceeded Phineas, ignoring his remarks utterly. "One of the bosses of a
section down by Milaflores locks got his thumb jammed in a gear wheel a
week back, and the chief has been looking round to replace him. You've
been selected."
Jim's eyes enlarged and brightened at once. He was such a newcomer to
the canal zone that promotion had seemed out of the question for a long
time to come. He told himself many a time that he was content to work on
as he was and wait like the rest for advancement.
"The wages are really good," he had said to Sadie, "and after I've paid
everything there is quite a nice little sum over at the end of the week.
I'm putting it by against a rainy day."
And here was promotion! By now he had learned the scale of wages and
salaries that were paid all along the canal. Such matters were laid down
definitely, and were decidedly on the liberal side. With a flush of joy
he realized that, as chief of a section, he would be in receipt of just
double the amount he had had when working the rock drill.
"And of course there'll be compensation for the accident, just the same
as in the case of any other employee," added Phineas, trying to appear
as if he had not noticed the tears of joy which had risen to Jim's eyes.
For who is there of his age, imbued with the same keenness, with greater
responsibilities on his young shoulders than falls to the lot of the
average lad, who would not have gulped a little and felt unmanned by
such glorious news? Consider the circumstances of our hero's life for
some little time past. It had been a struggle against what had at times
seemed like persistent bad fortune. First his father ruined, then the
whole family compelled to leave their home and drift on the Caribbean.
The loss of his father and then of his brother had come like final blows
which, as it were, drove the lessons of his misfortunes home to Jim. And
there was Sadie, at once a comfort and an anxiety. Jim alone stood
between her and charity.
"There'll be compensation for the accident," continued Phineas, "and
reward from the Commissioners for saving that train of passenger cars.
You've got to remember that it is cheaper any day to smash up a spoil
train than it is to wreck one carrying people. One costs a heap more to
erect than the other. So there you saved America a nice little sum. I
needn't say that if the people aboard had been killed, compensation
would have amounted to a big figure. So the Commission has received
powers from Washington to pay over 500 dollars. I rather think that'll
make a nice little nest egg against the day you get married."
Phineas roared with laughter as he caught a glimpse of Jim's face after
those last words. Indignation and contempt were written on the flushed
features. Then our hero joined in the merriment. "Gee! If there ever was
a lucky dog, it's me!" he cried. "Just fancy getting a reward for such a
job! As for the nest egg and marrying, I've better things to do with
that money. I'll invest it, so that Sadie shall have something if I'm
unlucky enough next time not to escape under similar circumstances.
Bein' married can wait till this canal's finished. Guess I've enough to
do here. I'm going to stay right here till the works are opened and I've
sailed in a ship from Pacific to Atlantic."
Phineas smiled, and, leaning across, gripped his young friend's hand and
shook it hard. Open admiration for the pluck which our hero had
displayed, now on more than one occasion, was transparent in the eyes of
this American official. But there was more. Jim had caught that strange
infection which seemed to have taken the place of the deadly yellow
fever. It was like that pestilence, too, in this, that it was
wonderfully catching, wonderfully quick to spread, and inflicted itself
upon all and sundry, once they had settled down in the zone. But there
the simile between this infection and that of the loathsome yellow fever
ended. That keenness for the work, that determination to relax no
energy, but to see what many thought a hopeless undertaking safely and
surely accomplished, had, in the few months since he came to the canal
zone, fastened itself upon Jim, till there was none more eager all along
the line between the Pacific and the Atlantic.
"Yes," he repeated, "I'll stay right here till the canal's opened. By
then that nest egg ought to be of respectable proportions."
A week later there was a vast gathering at the clubhouse, when one of
the chief officials of the canal works presented Jim with a fine gold
watch and chain to the accompaniment of thunderous applause from the
assembled employees. At the same time the reward sent or sanctioned by
the Government at Washington was handed over to him. A merry concert
followed, and then the meeting broke up. It was to be Jim's last evening
in the neighbourhood of Gatun.
"Of course you'll have to live in one of the hotels at Ancon," said
Phineas, when discussing the matter, "for it is too long a journey from
there to this part to make every day. It would interfere with your work.
You can come along weekends, and welcome. Sadie'll stop right here; I
won't hear of her leaving."
The arrangement fell in with our hero's wishes, for there was no doubt
but that his sister was in excellent hands. She had taken a liking to
Phineas's housekeeper, and was happy amongst her playmates at the
Commission school close at hand. Jim left her, therefore, in the care of
his friend, and was soon established in his quarters in a vast
Commission hotel at Ancon, within easy distance of Milaflores, the part
where he was to be chief of a section of workers. He found that the
latter were composed for the most part of Italians, though there were a
few other European nationalities, as well as some negroes.
"You'll have plans given you and so get to know what the work is," said
his immediate superior. "Of course what we're doing here is getting out
foundations for the two tiers of double locks. You'll have a couple of
steam diggers to operate, besides a concrete mill; for we're putting
tons of concrete into our foundations. A young chap like you don't want
to drive. Though it's as well to remember that foreigners same as these
ain't got the same spirit that our men have. They don't care so much for
the building of the canal as for the dollars they earn, but if you take
them the right way you can get a power of work out of them."
The advice given was, as Jim found, excellent, and with his sunny nature
and his own obvious preference for hard work, in place of idleness, he
soon became popular with his section, and conducted it for some weeks
to the satisfaction of those above him. Nor did he find the work less
interesting. The huge concrete mill was, in itself, enough to rivet
attention, though there was a sameness about its movements which was apt
to become monotonous when compared with the varied, lifelike motions of
the steam diggers. Rubble and cement were loaded into its enormous
hopper by the gangs of workmen, and ever there was a mass of semi-fluid
concrete issuing from the far side, ready mixed for the foundations of
the locks which, when the hour arrives, will carry the biggest ships the
world is capable of building. On Saturday afternoon, when the whistles
blew earlier than on weekdays, Jim would return to his hotel, wash and
change, and take the first available car down the tracks to Gatun. A
concert at the club was usually arranged for Saturday night, while on
Sunday he went to the nearest church with Phineas and Sadie, and then
returned in the evening to Ancon.
"Strange that we should never be able to get any information about that
runaway spoil train," said Phineas, on one of the occasions when Jim
went over to Gatun. "There's never been a word about it. The police have
failed to fathom what is at this day still a mystery. But there's a
rascal at work somewhere. There's been a severe fire down Colon way,
sleepers near pitched a passenger train from the rails opposite the dam
there, while one night, when the works were deserted, someone took the
brakes off a hundred-ton steam digger, and sent her running down the
tracks. She smashed herself to pieces, besides wrecking a dozen cars."
The news was serious, in fact, and pointed unmistakably to a criminal
somewhere on the canal, someone with a grudge against the undertaking,
or against the officials. It made Jim think instantly of Jaime de
Oteros, though why he could not imagine. But he was soon to know; little
time was to pass before he was to come face to face with the miscreant.