OVER THE TOP OF THE TRAIN.
At Rodman's startling announcement Conductor Tobin sprang to his feet,
reached for the bell-cord, and gave it two sharp pulls. A single whistle
blast from the locomotive made instant reply that his signal was received
and understood. So promptly was it obeyed that as the conductor and his
two brakemen ran to the front platform to swing far out and look along the
sides of the express cars ahead of them, the grinding brakes were already
reducing the speed of the flying train.
Suddenly a pistol shot rang angrily out, and a bullet crashed into the
woodwork close above Rod Blake's head. He and the conductor were leaning
out on one side while the other brakeman occupied the opposite one.
"Give the signal to go ahead at once, or I'll come back there and blow
your brains out!" came in a hoarse voice from a side door of the money
car.
"All right, I'll do it; only don't shoot," shouted Conductor Tobin in
answer, giving the desired signal to the engineman, by raising and
lowering his lantern vertically, as he spoke. At the same time he said
hurriedly to the brakeman on the opposite side of the platform, and thus
concealed from the robber's view:
"Drop off, Tom, and run back to number 10. Telegraph ahead to all
stations, and we'll bag that fellow yet!"
The man did as directed, swinging low and giving a forward spring that
landed him safely beside the track, though the train was still moving
fully twenty miles an hour.
The engineman, though greatly puzzled at receiving the signal to go ahead
immediately after being ordered to stop, had obeyed it, thrown off brakes,
and the train was again gathering its usual headway.
"Now Rod," said Conductor Tobin, as the other brakeman disappeared; "I
want you to make your way over the top of the train to the engine, and
tell Eli what is taking place. Tell him to keep her wide open till we
reach Millbank, and not to give her the "air" till we are well up with the
station. It's a tough job for you, and one I hate to send you on. At the
same time it's got to be done, and after your experience on the freight
deck, I believe you are the lad to undertake it. Anyway, you'll be safe
from that pistol when once you reach the cab."
"But I don't like to leave you here alone to be shot," remonstrated Rod.
"Never mind me. I don't believe I'll get shot. At any rate, this is my
place, and here I must stay. Now move along, and God bless you."
There was a strong hand-clasp between the conductor and brakeman, and
then the latter started on the perilous journey he had been ordered to
undertake. It was no easy task to maintain a footing on the rounded roofs
of those express cars as they were hurled on through the night at the rate
of nearly a mile a minute; while to leap from one to another seemed almost
suicidal. Not more than one brakeman in a thousand could have done it; but
Rod Blake, with his light weight, athletic training, and recent experience
combined with absolute fearlessness, was that one. His inclination was to
get down on his hands and knees and crawl along the slippery roofs. If he
had yielded to it he would never have accomplished the trip. He believed
that the only way to make it was by running and clearing the spaces
between cars with flying leaps, and, incredible as it may seem, that is
the way he did it. He had kicked off his shoes before starting, and now
ran with stockinged feet.
The occupants of the cab were as startled by his appearance beside them
as though he had been a ghost, and when his story was told the engineman
wanted to stop the train at once and go back to the assistance of the
imperilled messenger. Rod however succeeded in persuading him that, as
the messenger's fate was probably already decided, their only hope of
capturing the robber lay in carrying out Conductor Tobin's plan of running
at such speed that he would not dare jump from the train until a station
prepared for his reception was reached.
When the engineman finally agreed to this, and before he could utter
the remonstrance that sprang to his lips, Rodman clambered back over the
heaped-up coal of the tender, swung himself to the roof of the forward car
and began to retrace his perilous journey to the rear end of the train. He
argued that if Conductor Tobin's place was back there exposed to the
shots of a desperate man, his brakeman's place was beside him. Even if Rod
had not been a railroad boy, or "man," as he now called himself, his
natural bravery and sense of honor would have taken him back to that
coach. Ever since he had enlisted in the service that demands as strict
obedience as that required of a soldier and an equal contempt of danger,
this lad was doubly alert to the call of whatever he regarded as duty.
There is no service in the world, outside of the army, so nearly
resembling it in requirements and discipline as that of a railroad. It is
no place for cowards nor weaklings; but to such a lad as Rod Blake it adds
the stimulus of excitement and ever-present danger and the promise of
certain promotion and ample reward for the conscientious performance of
every-day duties.
So Rod, feeling in duty bound to do so, made his way back over the reeling
roofs of that on-rushing train to the side of his superior officer. As he
scrambled and slipped and leaped from car to car he fully realized the
imminent peril of his situation, but was at the same time filled with a
wild exhilaration and buoyance of spirits such as he had never before
known.
Conductor Tobin, standing just inside the coach door with pale face and
set lips, was amazed to see him. For a moment he fancied the lad had been
daunted by the task imposed upon him and had turned back without reaching
the locomotive. When he realized that Rod had not only made the perilous
trip once, but twice, his admiration was unbounded, and though he tried to
scold him for his foolhardiness the words refused to come. He shook the
young brakeman's hand so heartily instead that the action conveyed a
volume of praise and appreciation.
Now, as they watched together with an intense eagerness for the lights of
Millbank they became conscious of a yellow glare, like that of an open
furnace, streaming from the side door of the money car.
"The scoundrel has set the car on fire!" gasped Conductor Tobin.
"Don't you think we ought to break in the door with an axe and make a rush
for him?" asked Rod.
Before the other could reply, a long, ear-splitting whistle blast
announcing their approach to a station sounded from the locomotive.