Chasing an Iron Horse

by Edward Robins

  CHAPTER VII

  ENERGETIC PURSUIT

  Who were pursuing the Northern adventurers, and how did they learn thestory of the stolen engine? To answer these questions let us go back toBig Shanty at the moment when the train having the conspirators on boardreached that station from Marietta. The conductor, William Fuller, theengineer, Jefferson Cain,--and Anthony Murphy, a railroad official fromAtlanta, were among those who went into the "Shanty" to enjoy breakfast.They were naturally unsuspicious of any plot; the deserted engine seemedabsolutely secure as it stood within very sight of an encampment of theConfederate army.

  Suddenly Murphy heard something that sounded like escaping steam. "Why,some one is at your engine," he cried to Fuller, as he jumped from hisseat. Quick as a flash Fuller ran to the door of the dining-room.

  "Some one's stealing our train!" he shouted. "Come on, Cain!" Thepassengers rushed from their half-tasted meal to the platform. Theconductor began to run up the track, followed by his two companions, asthe train moved rapidly away.

  "Jerusha!" laughed one of the passengers, a gouty-looking old gentleman;"do those fellows expect to beat an engine that way?"

  The crowd joined in the fun of the thing, and wondered what the wholescene could mean. Perhaps it was but the prank of mischievous boys whowere intent on taking an exciting ride.

  "What's up, anyway?" asked Murphy, as the three went skimming along on therailroad ties, and the train drew farther and farther away from them.

  "I'll bet some conscripts have deserted from camp," cried Fuller. "They'llrun up the line a mile or two, then leave the engine and escape into thewoods." He did not imagine, as yet, that his train was in the hands ofNorthern soldiers.

  On, on, went the trio until they reached the point where George had cutthe wire.

  "Look here," said Cain; "they've cut the wire! And look at the brokenrail!"

  One glance was sufficient to show that the engine thieves, whoever theymight be, knew their business pretty well. There was something more inthis affair than a mere escape of conscripts.

  "Look up the road," said Murphy. He pointed to some workmen who had ahand-car near the track, not far above him. Hurrying on, the trio soonreached these men, explained to them what had happened, and impressed theminto the service of pursuit. In two or three minutes the whole party wereflying up the line on the hand-car.

  "Kingston is nearly thirty miles away," explained Fuller, as they bowledalong. "I don't know who the fellows are, but they'll be blocked byfreight when they get there, and we may manage to reach them somehow."Even if the unknown enemy got beyond Kingston, he thought he might yetreach them if he could only find an engine. The whole escapade was apuzzle, but the three men were determined to bring back "The General."

  Thus they swept anxiously but smoothly on until--presto! The whole partysuddenly leaped into the air, and then descended into a ditch, with thehand-car falling after them. They had reached the place where thetelegraph pole obstructed the track. They had turned a sharp curve, andwere on it, before they realized the danger.

  "No one hurt, boys?" asked Murphy.

  No one was hurt, strange to say.

  "Up with the car," cried Fuller. The hand-car was lifted to the track,beyond the telegraph pole, and the journey was resumed.

  "Shall we find an engine here?" thought Fuller, as the car approachedEtowah station.

  "There are iron furnaces near here," said Murphy, "and I know that anengine named 'The Yonah' has been built to drag material from the stationto the furnaces. It's one of the finest locomotives in the South."

  "I hope that hasn't been stolen too," said Cain.

  Now they were at the station. They knew that it would be impossible tomake the necessary speed with a hand-car. If they were to reach therunaways they _must_ obtain an engine, and quickly at that.

  "By all that's lucky," shouted Murphy; "there's 'The Yonah'!"

  There, right alongside the platform, was the welcome engine. It was aboutto start on a trip to the iron furnaces. The steam was up; the fire wasburning brightly.

  Etowah was ablaze with excitement as soon as the pursuers explained whathad happened.

  "I must have 'The Yonah,'" cried Fuller, "and I want some armed men to goalong with me!" No question now about seizing the engine; no question asto the armed men. With hardly any delay Fuller was steaming to thenorthward with "The Yonah," and the tender was crowded with pluckySoutherners carrying loaded rifles. The speed of the engine was at therate of a mile a minute, and how it did fly, to be sure. Yet it seemed asif Kingston would never be reached.

  When, at last, they did glide up to the station, Fuller learned that thealleged Confederate train bearing powder to General Beauregard had leftbut a few minutes before. Great was the amazement when he announced thatthe story of the leader was all a blind, invented to cover up one of theboldest escapades of the war.

  Fuller was Steaming to the Northward with "The Yonah"]

  But now Fuller was obliged to leave the faithful "Yonah." The blockade oftrains at Kingston was such that it would have required some time beforethe engine could get through any farther on the main track. He seizedanother engine, which could quickly be given the right of way, and rushedforward. Two cars were attached to the tender; in it were more armed men,hastily recruited at Kingston. They were ready for desperate work.

  "'The Yonah' was a better engine than this one," said Murphy, regretfully,before they had run more than two or three miles. He spoke the truth; thenew engine had not the speed of "The Yonah." The difference was quiteapparent.

  "We must do the best we can with her," said Fuller. "Put a little engineoil into the furnace. We'll give her a gentle stimulant."

  His order was promptly obeyed, but the locomotive could not be made to gofaster than at the rate of forty miles an hour. Murphy and Cain were bothat the lever, keeping their eyes fixed as far up the line as possible, sothat they might stop the train in good time should they see anyobstruction on the track. Thus they jogged along for some miles until thetwo men made a simultaneous exclamation, and reversed the engine. In frontof them, not more than a hundred yards away, was a large gap in the track.It marked the place where the Northerners had taken up the rails south ofAdairsville.

  "Jupiter! That was a close shave!" cried Murphy. For the train had beenhalted within less than five feet of the break. Out jumped the wholeparty, Fuller, Cain and Murphy from the cab, and the armed men from thecars. The delay, it was supposed, would be only temporary; there weretrack-laying instruments in the car; the rails could soon be reset. Butwhen it was seen that each of the rails had disappeared (for ouradventurers had carried them off with them) there was a murmur of disgustand disappointment.

  "Why not tear up some rails in the rear of the train, and lay them in thebreak," suggested one of the Southerners.

  "That will take too long," cried Fuller, and to this statement Murphyreadily assented. As it was, the stolen "General" was far enough ahead ofthem; too far ahead, indeed. If the pursuers waited here for such acomplicated piece of work as this tearing up and re-laying of the track,they might lose the race altogether. The conductor and Murphy started oncemore to run up the road-bed (just as they had footed it earlier in themorning at Big Shanty), and left the rest of the party to mend the track.

  Were they merely running on in an aimless way? Not by any means. They hadnot gone very far before the freight train which Andrews had encounteredat Adairsville came groaning down the track. The two men made violentgesticulations as signals to the engineer, and the train was slowlystopped.

  "Did you meet 'The General'?" cried Fuller.

  The freight engineer told the story of the impressed powder-train that washurrying on to Beauregard, and of the fine-looking, imperious Confederatewho was in command.

  "Well, that Confederate is a _Yankee_," came the explanation.

  The freight engineer made use of some expressions which were ratheruncomplimentary to Andrews. To think that the supposed Confederate, whohad acted as if he owned
the whole State of Georgia, was an enemy--a spy!Why, the thought was provoking enough to ruffle the most placid temper.And the engineer's natural temper was by no means placid.

  "I must have your engine to catch these fellows!" said Fuller. Naturallythere was no dissent to this command. He quickly backed the train toAdairsville, where the freight cars were dropped. Then Fuller, with engineand tender still reversed (for there was no turn-table available), hurriednorthward on the way to Calhoun station.

  "This engine is a great sight better than the last one I had," said theconductor, in a tone of exultation, to Bracken, his new engineer.

  "Ah, 'The Texas' is the finest engine in the whole state," answeredBracken, with the air of a proud father speaking of a child.

  They were tearing along at a terrific speed when Bracken suddenly reversed"The Texas" and brought her to a halt with a shock that would have thrownless experienced men out of the cab. On the track in front of them weresome of the cross-ties which the fugitives had thrown out of their car.Fortunately Fuller had just taken his position on the tender in front andgave the signal the instant he saw the ties. As "The Texas" stood there,all quivering and panting, the conductor jumped to the ground and threwthe ties from the track; then he mounted the tender again, and the enginekept on to the northward with its smoke-stack and headlight pointed in theopposite direction. The same program was repeated later on, where moreties were encountered.

  When "The Texas" dashed into Calhoun it had run a distance of ten miles,including the time spent in removing cross-ties, in exactly twelveminutes.

  "I'm after the Yankees who're in my stolen engine," cried Fuller to theidlers on the platform. "I want armed volunteers!" He wasted no words; thestory was complete as he thus told it; the effect was magical. Men withrifles were soon clambering into the tender. As "The Texas" glided awayfrom the platform Fuller stretched out his sturdy right arm to a boystanding thereon and pulled him, with a vigorous jerk, into the cab. Thenext minute the engine was gone. The lad was a young telegraph operatorwhom the conductor had recognized. There was no employment for him as yet,because the wires were cut along the line, but there might be need for himlater.

  Fuller was now aglow with hope. He was brave, energetic and full ofexpedients, as we have seen, and he was warming up more and more as thepossibility of overtaking "The General" became the greater. From what hehad learned at Calhoun he knew that the Northerners were only a shortdistance ahead. His promptness seemed about to be crowned with a gloriousreward. He might even make prisoners of the reckless train-robbers.

  And there, not more than a mile in front of him, was "The General"! He sawthe engine and the three baggage cars, and his heart bounded at thewelcome sight. Then he espied the men working on the track, and saw them,later, as they rapidly boarded their train. The Southerners in the tenderof "The Texas" cheered, and held firmly to their rifles. At any second nowmight their weapons be needed in a fight at close quarters.

  Of the chase from this point to Dalton we already know. Before Fullerreached that station he knew that it would be possible to send a telegramto Chattanooga, by way of Cleveland, even if the Northerners should cutthe wires on the main line.

  "Here," he said to the young telegraph operator, "I want you to send atelegram to General Leadbetter, commanding general at Chattanooga, as soonas we get to Dalton. Put it through both ways if you can, but by theCleveland line at any rate." The conductor took a paper from his walletand wrote a few words of warning to General Leadbetter, telling him not tolet "The General" and its crew get past Chattanooga. "My train wascaptured this morning at Big Shanty, evidently by Federal soldiers indisguise," he penciled.

  On the arrival at Dalton this telegram was sent, exactly as the shrewdAndrews had prophesied. Then "The Texas" fled away from Dalton and thechase continued, as we have seen in the previous chapter, until a point ofthe railroad about thirteen miles from Chattanooga was reached.

  In the cab of "The General" Andrews was standing with his head bowed down;his stock of hopefulness had suddenly vanished. At last he saw that theexpedition, of which he had cherished such high expectations, was acomplete failure. A few miles in front was Chattanooga, where captureawaited them, while a mile in the rear were well-armed men.

  "There's only one thing left to do," he said mournfully to George, who wasregarding his chief with anxious interest. "We must abandon the engine,scatter, and get back to General Mitchell's lines as best we can, each inhis own way!"

  Then the leader put his hand on the engineer's shoulder. "Stop theengine," he said; "the game is up; the dance is over!"

  The engineer knew only too well what Andrews meant. He obeyed the order,and the tired "General," which had faithfully carried the party for abouta hundred miles, panted and palpitated like a dying horse. The greatlocomotive was, indeed, in a pitiable condition. The brass of the journalsand boxes was melted by the heat; the steel tires were actually red-hot,and the steam issued from all the loosened joints.

  Andrews turned to the men who were huddled together in the tender.

  "Every man for himself, boys," he cried. "You must scatter and do the bestyou can to steal into the Federal lines. I've led you as well as Icould--but the fates were against us. God bless you, boys, and may we allmeet again!"

  As he spoke the leader--now a leader no longer--threw some papers into thefurnace of the locomotive. In a twinkling they were reduced to ashes. Theywere Federal documents. One of them was a letter from General Mitchellwhich, had it been found upon Andrews by the Confederates, would in itselfhave proved evidence enough to convict him as a spy.

  The men in the tender jumped to the ground. So, likewise, did George, theengineer and his assistant. Andrews remained standing in the cab. Helooked like some sea captain who was waiting to sink beneath the waves inhis deserted ship. He worked at the lever and touched the valve, and thenleaped from his post to the roadbed. The next moment "The General" wasmoving backwards towards the oncoming "Texas."

  "We'll give them a little taste of collision!" he cried. His companionsturned their eyes towards the departing "General." If the engine wouldonly run with sufficient force into the enemy, the latter might--well, itwas hard to predict what might not happen. Much depended on the nextminute.

  There was a whistle from "The Texas." "The General" kept on to the rear,but at a slow pace. No longer did the staunch machine respond to thethrottle. The fire in the furnace was burning low; there was little or nosteam; the iron horse was spent and lame.

  The adventurers looked on, first expectantly, then gloomily. They saw that"The General" was incapacitated; they saw, too, that the enemy reversedtheir own engine, and ran backwards until the poor "General" came to acomplete standstill. Pursuit was thus delayed, but by no means checked.

  "That's no good," sighed Andrews. "Come, comrades, while there is stilltime, and off with us in different parties. Push to the westward, and wemay come up to Mitchell's forces on the other side of Chattanooga."

  Soon the men were running to the shelter of a neighboring wood. Georgeseemed glued to the sight of the departing "General." He felt as if an oldfriend was leaving him, and so he was one of the last to move. As he, too,finally ran off, Waggie, who had been released from his master's pocket,bounded by his side as if the whole proceeding were an enjoyable picnic.When George reached the wood many of the men were already invisible. Hefound Watson leaning against a tree, pale and breathless.

  "What's the matter?" asked the boy anxiously.

  "Nothing," said Watson. "This rough journey over this crooked railroad hasshaken me up a bit. I'll be all right in a minute. Just wait and we'll goalong together. I wouldn't like to see any harm happen to you, youngster,while I have an arm to protect you.

  "Come on," he continued, when he had regained his breath; "we can't stayhere. I wonder why Mitchell didn't push on and capture Chattanooga. Thenwe would not have had to desert the old engine."

  The fact was that General Mitchell, after capturing Huntsville on Aprilthe 11th, had moved into the
country to the northeastward until he camewithin thirty miles of Chattanooga. At this point he waited, hoping tohear that Andrews and his companions had destroyed the railroadcommunications from Chattanooga. No such news reached him, however; hefeared that the party had failed, and he was unable to advance farther,under the circumstances, without receiving reinforcements. But of all thisWatson was ignorant.

  The man and boy stole out of the wet woods, and thence a short distance tothe westward until they reached the bottom of a steep hill which wassurmounted by some straggling oaks. They started to walk briskly up theincline, followed by Waggie. Suddenly they heard a sound thatinstinctively sent a chill running up and down George's spine.

  "What's that?" he asked. "Some animal?"

  Watson gave a grim, unpleasant laugh. "It's a hound," he answered. "Comeon; we don't want that sort of gentleman after us. He'd be a rougheranimal to handle than Waggie."

  George redoubled his pace. But his steps began to lag; his brain was in awhirl; he began to feel as if he was acting a part in some horrible dream.Nothing about him seemed real; it was as if his sensations were those ofanother person.

  "Anything wrong?" asked Watson, as he saw that the lad was falling behindhim.

  "Nothing; I'm coming," was the plucky answer. But fatigue and hunger, andexposure to the rain, had done their work. George tottered, clutched atthe air, and then sank on the hillside, inert and unconscious. In a momentWaggie was licking his face, with a pathetic expression of inquiry in hislittle brown eyes, and Watson was bending over him. Again came the bayfrom the hound and the distant cry from a human voice.