The Hero of Panama: A Tale of the Great Canal

by F. S. Brereton

  CHAPTER XIII

  Hustle the Order of the Day

  Never in the whole course of his short existence had Jim come upon sucha busy scene as he encountered, when Phineas Barton at length contrivedto drag the eager young fellow away from the engineering shops atGorgona.

  "My!" cried Phineas, simulating a snort of indignation; "I never didcome across such a curious chap in all my born days. I began to thinkthat you'd stick in the place, grow to it as the saying is. But there, Idon't blame any youngster for liking a big works same as this. There'sso much to see, huge lathes and planing machines running and doing theirwork as if they were alive and thinking things out. Steam-hammersthudding down on masses of red-hot metal, giving a blow that would cracka house and smash it to pieces, or one that would as easily fracture anut. Then there are the furnaces and the foundry: guess all that'sinteresting. But you've got more to see; it's time we made way up forCulebra. Look here, boy, set her going, and mind you watch the spoiltrains."

  The precaution and the warning were necessary, for the double track ofthe Panama railway at this point was much occupied by the long trains ofcars filled with earth coming from the trench that was being cutthrough the high ground just ahead. It was not until they actuallyreached the neighbourhood of Culebra, which may be said to occupy aplace in the centre of the gigantic cut, that Jim gathered a fullimpression of the work, or the reason for so many freight cars. But itwas true enough that the driver of the motor truck had to keep his witsabout him to escape collision; for every three minutes a spoil traincame along, dragged perhaps by a locomotive made at Gorgona, or by oneimported by the French, and of Belgian manufacture. Every three minutes,on the average, a train came puffing down the incline from Culebra, andnothing was allowed to delay it. In consequence, the motor inspectioncar on which Phineas and his young friend were journeying was compelledat times to beat a hasty retreat, or to go ahead at full power before anadvancing empty train--returning from the great dam at Gatun, where ithad deposited its load--till it arrived at a point where a switch waslocated. There was nearly always a man there, and promptly the car wassidetracked.

  "It's the only way to do the business," explained Phineas. "The gettingaway of those spoil trains means the success of our working. If theydon't get clear, so as to be back at the earliest moment, there's goingto be any number of steam diggers thrown out of work; for it's no useshovelling dirt if there aren't cars to load the stuff in. If there's abreakdown with one of the cars, guess the whole labour force is pushedon to it, so as to get the lines clear. Telephone wires run up and downthe line, and a breakdown is at once reported. But we're just enteringthe cut, and in a little while you'll be able to see and understandeverything."

  To be accurate, it took our hero quite a little while to grasp thesignificance of all that he saw, for the Culebra cut extends throughnine miles of rocky soil, and at the period of his inspection it hadalready bitten deep into the hilly ground which barred the onwardprogress of the canal at Obispo. One ought to say, in an endeavour togive facts accurately, that this mass of material forms the southernboundary of the huge Chagres valley which, when the works are completed,will be flooded with water. It bars all exit there, though by turningsharply to the left one may follow the course of the river through anarrow, ascending valley. However, the scheme of the undertakingrequired that there should be no sharp bends, and in consequence thehost of workers were toiling to cut a gigantic trench, of great widthand enormous depth, right through this hilly ground. What Jim saw wassomewhat similar to the works below Gatun, at the Colon end of thecanal, but vastly magnified. There were the same terraces, with tracksof rails laid, bearing an endless procession of spoil trains and numbersof steam diggers. There was the same pilot cut in the very centre, fromwhich the terraces ascended step by step, as if they were portions ofanother Egyptian pyramid. But there comparisons ceased. This huge ditchextended for nine miles, and throughout its length presented an army oftoilers, any number of dirt trains, and a constant succession of whitesteam billows, at various elevations, pointing to the places where thehundred-ton diggers were at work.

  "You have to get right on the spot to see what's happening," saidPhineas, looking proudly about him. "You can see for yourself now thatit means everything to us to get rid of the dirt as quickly as possible,and everything to have spare trains ready to fill the place of thosetaking the spoil away. This concern is simply a question of dirt, and ofhow rapidly we can shift it. If I was the President of the Republic ofthe United States himself I should have to look lively all the same, anddodge about so as not to get in the way of the dirt trains. But we'llget out here and climb; I'll show you a thing or two."

  He chuckled at the prospect before him, for to expatiate on the canalworks to a keen young fellow, such as Jim undoubtedly was, was theheight of enjoyment to the energetic official. Their car was switched onto a side track at once, and, descending from it, the two clambered upthe scarped side of the trench till they were on the summit of the rockyground. Then it was possible to obtain a bird's-eye view of the wholecut, and to appreciate its vastness. Jim noticed that the path he hadclambered by shelved rather gently, while elsewhere the bank of thetrench was steeply scarped, and at once drew Phineas's attention to thematter.

  "You don't miss much, siree," came the answer. "We've come face upagainst more than one tough job 'way up here at Culebra, and thequestion of the slope of our banks is one. You see, this trench will bemighty deep, and if we were to cut the sides perpendicular they wouldsoon fall in. Most of the stuff's rock, of course, but it's queer rockat that. It's soft, weathers quickly, and becomes easily friable whenwater has got to it. So we've had to spread the banks wide, and make theslope easy, except where the rock's harder and allows a steeper slope.Now, guess we're near about the centre of the cut. You've seen what'shappening to the north. Dirt trains run down the incline, enter thetracks of the Panama Railway, and run 26 miles to the dam at Gatun.South of us the tracks fall to the plain of the Rio Grande, and thespoil trains run down and dump their stuff on either side of the linethe canal will take. You've got to remember that this trench is 'way upabove tide level; so at the end of the cut, at Pedro Miguel, there is tobe a lock, or, rather, a double lock--one for a vessel going north andone for a ship coming south. A matter of a mile farther along there isanother lock--the Milaflores lock--double, like the last, but with twotiers. It will let our ships down into the Pacific. But you've got toremember that there is a tide in that ocean, so the lift of theMilaflores lower lock will be variable. Now, lad, come and see the rockdrills."

  They descended into the bottom of the trench again, Phineas explainingthat when it was completed there would be a bottom width of 200 feet,ample to allow the passing of two enormous ships.

  "Guess it's the narrowest part of the canal," he said, "though no onewould call it narrow; but it's through hard rock, which is some excuse,and then this narrowest part happens to be dead straight. North of usthe cut widens at the bottom to 300 feet, while elsewhere, outside thecut, the minimum width is 500 feet. You've got to bear in mind that I'mtalking of bottom widths. Recollect that the banks slope outwards fairlygently, and you can appreciate the fact that the surface width of thecanal stream will make a stranger open his eyes. Ah, here's a drill!This is the sort of thing you'll be doing."

  To the novice the machine to which Phineas had drawn attention wasindeed somewhat curious. It looked for all the world like an overgrownmotor car, constructed by an amateur engineer in his own workshop, andout of any parts he happened to have by him; for it ran on four ironwheels with flat tyres, and bore at the back the conventional boiler andsmokestack. In front it carried a post, erected to some height, andstayed with two stout metal rods from the rear. The remainder of themachine consisted of the engine and driving gear which operated thedrills.

  "It'll get through solid rock at a pace that will make you stare,"declared Phineas, "though our friend at Gorgona believes that this newmodel that you're to run will do even better. But you can see whathappens
; these drills get to work where the diggers will follow. Theydrill right down, 30 feet perhaps, and then get along to another site.The powder men then come along, put their shot in position, place theirfuse, wire it so that a current can be sent along to the fuse, and thenget along to another drill hole. At sunset, when all the men havecleared, the shots are fired, and next morning there's loose dirt enoughto keep the diggers busy. Guess you'll be put to work with one of thesedrillers, so as to learn a bit. You can't expect to handle a machineunless you know what's required of you."

  The following morning, in fact, found our hero dressed in his workingclothes, assisting a man in the management of one of the rock drills. Hehad risen at the first streak of dawn, and after breakfasting, hadclambered aboard an empty dirt train making for Culebra.

  "Yer know how to fire a furnace?" asked the man who was to instruct him."Ay, that's good; I heard tell as I wasn't to have no greenhorn. Ain'tyou a pal o' Harry's?"

  There might have been only one Harry amidst the huge army of whiteemployees; but Jim knew who was meant, and nodded promptly.

  "And you're the chap as went off into the swamps, across a lagoon, alongwith the Police Major, ain't you?"

  "Yes," responded our hero shortly.

  "Huh! You and I is going to be pals. Harry's been blabbing. You don'thappen to have brought that 'ere banjo along with you?"

  Jim had not, but promised to do so if this new friend liked.

  "Why, in course we like," cried Hundley, for that was the man's name."Seems that you're to live 'way down there at Gatun, so the boys alongover there will get you of an evening; but you'll feed with us midday. Itell you, Jim, there's times when a man feels dull out here,particularly if he's had a go of fever, same as I have. It takes thelife out of a fellow, and ef he ain't brightened he gets to moping.That's why I'm precious keen on music; a song soothes a man. There'sheaps like me up at the club; jest steady, quiet workers, sticking likewax to the job, 'cos the most of us can't settle to pack and leave tillwe've seen the canal completed."

  There it was again! Right along the fifty miles of works Jim had comeacross the same expressions. It mattered not whether a man drove a steamdigger or a dirt train, whether he were official or labouring employee,if he were American, as all were, the canal seemed to have driven itselfinto his brain; the undertaking had become a pet child, a work to beaccomplished whatever happened, an exacting friend not to be cast asideor deserted till all was ended and a triumph accomplished. But Jim hadheard the request, and promptly acceded.

  "I'll bring the banjo along one of these days right enough," he smiled."Perhaps you'll make a trip down to Gatun and hear one of our concerts.They tell me there's to be one within a few days."

  Hundley eagerly accepted the invitation, and then proceeded to instructour hero. As to the latter, he found no great difficulty inunderstanding the work, and, indeed, in taking charge of the machine.For here it was not quite as it was with a hundred-ton digger, when thelip of the huge shovel might in some unexpected moment cut its waybeneath a mass of rock, and be brought up short with a jerk capable ofdoing great damage. The rock drill, on the other hand, pounded away, theengine revolving the drill, while the crew of the machine saw that thegears were thrown out when necessary, and an extra length added to thedrill. If the hardened-steel point of the instrument happened tocatch--as was sometimes the case--and held up the engine, then steam hadto be cut off quickly, the drill reversed and lifted, so as to allow itto begin afresh.

  "You never know what's goin' to happen," explained Hundley; "but mosttimes things is clear and straightforward. You lengthen the drill tillyou've run down about 30 feet: that means eight hours' solid work--aday's full work, Jim. You don't see the real result till the nextmorning; but my, how those dynamite shots do rip the place about! Forinstance, jest here where we're sinkin' the drill we're yards from theedge of the step we're working on. Well now, that shot'll be rammedhome, and the hole plugged over it. Something's got to go when dynamiteis exploded, and sense there's all this weight of stuff to the outsideof the terrace, and the shot is 30 feet deep, the outer lip gives way,and jest this boring results in tons of rock and dirt being brokenadrift. It's when you see the huge mass of loose stuff next morning thatyou realize that you ain't been doin' nothin'."

  At the end of a week Jim was placed in entire charge of a rock drill,while a negro was allocated to the machine to help him. Then, somewhatlater than the official had intimated, the motor driller was completed,and our hero was drafted to the Gorgona works for some days, to practisewith the implement and get thoroughly accustomed to it. It was a proudday when he occupied the driving seat, threw out his clutch, and set thegears in mesh. Then, the engine buzzing swiftly, and a light cloud ofsteam coming from the nozzle of the radiator--for, like all rapidlymoving motor engines designed for stationary work, the water quicklyheated--he set the whole affair in motion, and trundled along thehighroad towards the cut.

  "If you don't make a tale of this machine I shall be surprised," saidthe official, as he bade him farewell. "This motor should get throughthe rock very quickly, quicker a great deal than the steam-driven ones.But go steady along the road; steering ain't so easy."

  Easy or not, Jim managed his steed with skill, and soon had the affairon one of the terraces. He had already had a certain part allotted tohim, and within an hour of his departure from the works had set hisfirst drill in position. Nor was it long before he realized that thedesire of the staff at Gorgona was to be more than realized; for thedrill bit its path into the rock swiftly, more so than in the case ofthe slower revolving steam drills, while there were fewer sudden stops.That first day he accomplished two bore holes, giving four hours to eachoperation. His cheeks were flushed with pleasure when he reportedprogress to the official.

  "And the engine?" asked the latter. "She ran well?"

  "Couldn't have gone better," declared Jim. "She gives off ample power,and there is plenty of water for cooling. That machine easily saves theextra dollar wages you offered."

  "And will pay us handsomely to repeat it, for then there will be moredirt for the diggers to deal with, and the more there is the sooner thecut will be finished. We can always manage to get extra diggers."

  That the innovation was a success was soon apparent to all, and many atime did officials come from the far end of the canal works to watch Jimat work, and to marvel at the swiftness with which his machine opened away through the rock. It was three months later before anything happenedto disturb our hero, and during all that time he continued at his work,coming from Gatun in the early hours, usually aboard an empty spoiltrain, but sometimes by means of one of the many motor trolley carswhich were placed at the disposal of inspectors. At the dinner hour hewent off to one of the Commission hotels, and there had a meal, andoften enough sang for the men to the banjo which he had since purchased.When the whistles blew at sundown he pulled on his jacket, placed amackintosh over his shoulders if it happened to be raining, which wasfrequently the case, and sought for a conveyance back to Gatun. Andoften enough these return journeys were made on the engine hauling aloaded spoil trail.

  As for Tom and Sam, the two negroes had received posts at the verybeginning, the little negro working with the sanitary corps and the hugeTom being made into a black policeman.

  "He's got a way with the darkies," explained Phineas, when announcingthe appointment, "and I've noticed that they're mighty civil to him. Yousee, the majority of our coloured gentry come from the West Indies, and,though they are likely enough boys, they are not quite so bright, Ithink, as are the negroes from the States. Anyway, Tom has a way withthem, and don't stand any sauce; while, when things are all right, he'sready to pass the time of day with all, and throw 'em a smile. Gee, howhe does laugh! I never saw a negro with a bigger smile, nor a merrier."

  It may be wondered what had happened to the worthy and patient Ching.The Chinaman was far too good a cook to have his talents wasted in thecanal zone, and from the very beginning was installed in that capacityat Phineas Barto
n's quarters, thus relieving the lady who had formerlydone the work. The change, indeed, was all for the best, for now Sadiereceived more attention.

  Three months almost to a day from the date when Jim had begun to run themotor drill the machinery got out of order.

  "One of the big ends of a piston flew off," he reported to the official,when the latter arrived. "Before I could stop her running the piston rodhad banged a hole through the crank case, and I rather expect it hasdamaged the crank shaft."

  It was an unavoidable accident, and meant that the machine must undergorepair.

  "You'll have to be posted to another job meanwhile, Jim," said theofficial. "Of course I know that this is none of your doing. We shall beable to see exactly what was the cause of the accident to that pistonrod when we've taken the engine down. Perhaps one of the big end boltssheered. Or there may have been a little carelessness when erecting, anda cotter pin omitted. But I don't think that: my staff is too careful tomake errors of that sort. How'd you like to run one of the inspectionmotor trolleys? They were asking me for a man this morning; for one ofthe drivers is down with fever. You'd be able to take on the work atonce, since you understand motors. Of course there isn't any timetableto follow. You just run up and down as you're wanted, and all you've gotto learn really is where the switches and points are; so as to be ableto sidetrack the car out of the way of the dirt trains."

  So long as it was work in connection with machinery Jim was bound to bepleased, and accepted the work willingly. The next day he boarded theinspection car at Gatun, and within half an hour had made himselffamiliar with the levers and other parts. Then he was telephoned for toa spot near Gorgona, and ran the car along the rails at a smart pace.Twice on the way there he had to stop, reverse his car, and run back toa siding, there to wait on an idle track till a dirt train had passed.

  "You'll get to know most every switch in a couple of days," said thenegro who was in charge of this particular point, "and sometimes yo'llbe mighty glad that you did come to know 'em. Them spoil trains don'talways give too much time, particularly when there's a big load andthey're coming down the incline from way up by Culebra."

  The truth of the statement was brought to our hero's mind very swiftly;for on the following morning, having run out on the tracks ahead of anempty spoil train, and passed a passenger train at one of the stations,he was slowly running up the incline into the Culebra cut when he hearda commotion in front of him. At once he brought his car to a standstillbeside one of the points.

  "Specks there's been a breakdown, or something of that sort," said theman in charge, coming to the side of the car. "The track's clearenough, but I guess there'll be a dirt train along most any minute. Areyou for runnin' in over the points out of the way?"

  At that moment Jim caught sight of something coming towards him.Suddenly there appeared over the brow of the incline the rear end of adirt train, and a glance told him that it was loaded. A man was racingalong beside one of the cars, somewhere about the centre of the train,and was endeavouring to brake the wheels with a stout piece of timber.Jim saw the timber suddenly flicked to one side, the man was thrownheavily, then, to his horror, there appeared a whole length of loadedcars racing down towards him, with nothing to stop the mad rush, noteven an engine.

  "Gee, she's broken away from the loco!" shouted the man at the points."She's runnin' fast now, but in a while she'll be fair racing. Time shegets here, which'll be within the minute, she'll be doing sixty miles anhour. She'll run clear way down to Gatun. Come right in over thepoints."

  He ran to open the switch, so that Jim could reach safety, while ourhero accelerated his engine in preparation for the movement. Then asudden thought came to his mind. He recollected the passenger trainwhich was coming on behind him.

  "Man," he shouted, "there's a passenger coming 'way behind us! The carswere filled with people when I passed. She's ahead of the dirt trains,and of course does not expect to have a full spoil train running down onthis line. She'll be smashed into a jelly."

  "So'll you if you don't come right in," cried the man, waving to Jimfrantically.

  But he had a lad of pluck to deal with. Jim realized that betweenhimself and the oncoming passenger train, now some six miles awayperhaps, there lay a margin of safety for himself, if only he could runfast enough before the derelict spoil train racing towards him. But thatmargin might allow him to warn the driver of the passenger train. Hetook the risk instantly, shouted to the pointsman, and began to back hiscar. Fortunately it was one of those in which the reverse gear appliedto all speeds, and, since there was no steering to be done, he was ableto proceed at a furious pace.

  "Get to the telephone," he bellowed to the man as he went away. "Warnthem down the line."

  Then began an exciting race between his car and the spoil train; for thelatter was composed of many long, heavy trucks, all laden to the brimwith rock debris, consequently the smallest incline was sufficient toset them in motion if not properly braked. Now, when the whole line hadbroken adrift from its engine, and had run on to the Culebra incline,the weight told every instant. The pace soon became appalling, thetrucks bounding and scrunching along the tracks, shaking violently,throwing their contents on either side, threatening to upset at everycurve, gained upon Jim's car at every second.

  "I'll have to jump if I can't get clear ahead," he told himself. "But ifI can only keep my distance for a while the incline soon lessens, whenthe pace of the runaway will get slower. But that man was right; she'scoasting so fast, and has so much weight aboard, that the impetus willtake her best part of the way to Gatun."

  Once more it was necessary for Jim to do as he had done aboard the motorlaunch. His ignition and throttle levers were pushed to the farthestnotch. He was getting every ounce of power out of his car, desperatelystriving to keep ahead. But still the train gained. They came to acurve, our hero leading the runaway by some fifty yards, and bothrunning on the tracks at terrific speed. Suddenly the inside wheels ofthe inspection car lifted. Jim felt she was about to turn turtle andpromptly threw himself on to the edge of the car, endeavouring to weighher down. Over canted the car till it seemed that she must capsize. Jimgave a jerk with all his strength, and slowly she settled down on to herinside wheels again, clattering and jangling on the iron track as shedid so. Then he glanced back at the dirt train racing so madly afterhim.

  "She'll be over," he thought. "She'll never manage to get round thatbend at such a pace."

  But weight steadies a freight car, and on this occasion the leadingtrucks at least managed to negotiate the curve without sustainingdamage. The long train, looking like a black, vindictive snake, swunground the bend, with terrific velocity, and came on after himrelentlessly. Then, as the last truck but one reached the bend, therewas a sudden commotion. The dirt it contained heaved spasmodically andsplashed up over the side; it seemed to rise up at the after end in ahuge heap, and was followed by the tail of the truck. The whole thingcanted up on its head, then swayed outwards, and, turning on its side,crashed on to the track running along beside it. There was a roar, amedley of sounds, while the actual site of the upset was obscured by ahuge cloud of dust.

  "That'll do it," thought our hero. "If we have any luck, that upsettingtruck will pull the rest of the cars off the road, and bring the wholetrain to a standstill."

  But he was counting his chickens before they were hatched. The cloud ofdust blew aside swiftly, and, when he was able to see again, there wasthe line of cars, nearer by now, leaping madly along, trailing behindthem the broken end of the one which had overturned. Right behind, theother portion, together with the greater portion of the last truck ofall, was heaped in a confused mass on the second track of rails,disclosing its underframe and its two sets of bogie wheels to the sky.

  "That passenger train must be only a couple of miles from us now," saidJim, as he desperately jerked at his levers, in the endeavour to forcehis car more swiftly along the track. "If I can keep ahead for half thatdistance I shall manage something, for then the incline le
ssens. Justhere she's going faster if anything. If only I could send this car alongquicker!"

  He gazed anxiously over his shoulder, in the direction in which he wasflying, and was relieved to discover that the rails were clear. Then hetook a careful look at the line of cars bounding after him. There was nodoubt that the train was nearer. The leading car was within two hundredyards of him, and a minute's inspection told him clearly that thedistance between them was lessening very rapidly; for the runaway nowseemed to have taken the bit between her teeth with a vengeance. Despitethe weight of earth and rock in the cars they were swaying and leapinghorribly, causing their springs to oscillate as they had, perhaps, neverdone before. The wheels on the leading bogie seemed to be as much offthe iron tracks as on them, and at every little curve the expanse ofdaylight on the inner side beneath the trucks increased in proportions,showing how centrifugal force was pulling the heavy mass andendeavouring to upset it. It was an uncanny sight, but yet, for allthat, a fascinating one. Jim watched it helplessly, almost spellbound,conscious that the few moments now before him were critical ones. Heunconsciously set to work to calculate how long it would take, at thepresent rate of comparative progression of his own car and the runawaytrain, for the inevitable collision to occur. Then, seeing the heavingbogies of the trucks, he leaned over the side of his own car and watchedthe metal wheels. They clattered and thundered on the rails, the spokeswere indistinguishable, having the appearance of disks. But at the bendsthis was altered. The car tipped bodily, the inner wheels left thetracks, and at once their momentum lessened. Then, though he could notsee the individual spokes, the disk-like appearance was broken, tellinghim plainly, even if his eyes had not been sufficiently keen to actuallysee the fact, that the wheels and the track had parted company.

  "Ah!" It was almost a groan that escaped him. In the few minutes inwhich he had been engaged in examining his own wheels the runaway trainhad gained on him by leaps and bounds. He could now hear the roar of itswheels above the rumble and clatter of his own, that and the buzz of themotor so busy beneath the bonnet. He cast his eye on either side, as ifto seek safety there, and watched the fleeting banks of the ChagresRiver, bushes and trees, and abandoned French trucks speeding past. Agang of workmen came into view, and he caught just a glimpse of themwaving their shovels. Their shouts came to his ears as the merestechoes. Then something else forced itself upon his attention. It was thefigure of a white man, standing prominent upon a little knoll beside therails, and armed with a megaphone. He had the instrument to his mouth,and thundered his warning in Jim's ears.

  "Jump!" he shouted. "Jump! She'll be up within a jiffy!"

  Within a jiffy! In almost less time than that; there were but two yardsnow between the small inspection car and the line of loaded trucks. Jimcould see the individual pieces of broken rock amongst the dirt, couldwatch the fantastic manner in which they were dancing. He looked abouthim, standing up and gripping the side of the car. Then away in front,along the clear tracks. He thought of the passenger train, andremembered that he alone stood between it and destruction.

  "I'll stick to this ship whatever happens," he told himself stubbornly."If the train strikes me and breaks up the car, the wreck may throw itoff the rails. Better that than allow it to run clear on into thepassenger train. Ah! Here it is."

  Crash! The buffers of the leading truck struck the motor inspection caron her leading spring dumb irons, and the buffet sent her hurtling alongthe track, while the shock of the blow caused Jim to double up over thesplashboard. But the wheels did not leave the tracks. Nothing seemed tohave been broken. The dumb irons were bent out of shape, that was all.

  "Jump, yer fool!" came floating across the air to Jim's ear, while thefigure of the man with the megaphone danced fantastically, arms wavingviolently in all directions.

  But Jim would not jump; he had long since made up his mind to stick tohis gun, to remain in this car whatever happened; for the safety of thepassenger train depended on him. True, a telephone message might havereached the driver; but then it might not have done so. He recollectedthat at the switch where this mad chase had first begun there was notelephone station closely adjacent. It would be necessary for the manthere to run to the nearest one. That would take time, while his ownflight down the tracks had endured for only a few minutes, though, tospeak the truth, those minutes felt like hours to our hero.

  Bang! The cars struck him again, causing the one on which he rode towobble and swerve horribly; the wheels roared and flashed sparks as theflanges bit at the rails. The bonnet that covered the engine, crinkledup like a concertina; but the car held the track. Jim was still secure,while the second buffet had sent him well ahead. Better than all, herealized that he was now beyond the steeper part of the incline, whilehis engine was still pulling, urging the car backward. If only he couldincrease the pace, if only he could add to the distance which separatedhim from that long line of trucks bounding after him so ruthlessly. Thena groan escaped him; for along the Chagres valley, where, perhaps, inthe year 1915 a huge lake will have blotted out the site of the railwayalong which he flew, and where fleets of huge ships may well be lying,there came the distinct, shrill screech of a whistle. Jim swung round inan agony of terror. He looked along the winding track and his eyes litupon an object. It was the passenger train, loaded with human freight,standing in the way of destruction.