CHAPTER V--OPPORTUNITY
The boy turned and ran back to the culvert crossing just as the fourthlocomotive whizzed past the spot.
He waved his hand and yelled out an inquiry as to what was up, but caband tender flashed by in a sheet of steam and smoke.
He recognized the engineer, however. It was gruff old John Griscom, andin the momentary glimpse Ralph had of his hard, rugged face he lookedgrimmer than ever.
Ralph marveled at his presence here, for Griscom had the crack run ofthe road, the 10.15, driven by the biggest twelve-wheeler on the line,and was something of an industrial aristocrat. The locomotive he nowpropelled was a third-class freight engine, and had no fireman on thepresent occasion so far as could be seen.
Ralph knew enough about runs, specials and extras, to at once comprehendthat something very unusual had happened, or was happening.
Whatever it was, extreme urgency had driven out this last locomotive,for Griscom wore his off-duty suit, and it was plain to be seen had nothad time to change it.
Ralph's eyes blankly followed the locomotive. Then he started after it.Five hundred feet down the rails, a detour of a gravel pit sent thetracks rounding to a stretch, below which, in a clump of greenery, halfa dozen of the firemen and engineers of the road had their homes.
With a jangle and a shiver the old heap of junk known as 99 came to astop. Then its whistle began a series of tootings so shrill andpiercing that the effect was fairly ear-splitting.
Ralph recognized that they were telegraphic in their import. Veryoften, he knew, locomotives would sound a note or two, slow up just hereto take hands down to the roundhouse, but old Griscom seemed not onlycalling some one, but calling fiercely and urgently, and adding a wholevolume of alarm warnings.
Ralph kept on down the track and doubled his pace, determined now toovertake the locomotive and learn the cause of all this rush andcommotion.
As he neared 99, he discerned that the veteran engineer was hustlingtremendously. Usually impassive and exact when in charge of the superb10.15, he was now a picture of almost irritable activity.
Having thrown off his coat, he fired in some coal, impatiently gave thewhistle a further exercise, and leaning from the cab window yelledlustily towards the group of houses beyond the embankment.
Just as Ralph reached the end of the tender, he saw emerging from theshaded path down the embankment a girl of twelve. He recognized her asthe daughter of jolly Sam Cooper, the fireman.
She was breathless and pale, and she waved her hand up to the impatientengineer with an agitated:
"Was you calling pa, Mr. Griscom?"
"Was I calling him!" growled the gruff old bear--"did he think I waspiping for the birds?"
"Oh, Mr. Griscom, he can't come, he----"
"He's got to come! It's life and death! Couldn't he tell it, when hesaw me on this crazy old wreck, and shoving up the gauge to burstingpoint. Don't wait a second--he's got to come!"
"Oh, Mr. Griscom, he's in bed, crippled. Ran into a scythe in thegarden, and his ankle is cut terrible. Mother's worried to death, andhe won't be able to take the regular run for days and days."
Old Griscom stormed like a pirate. He glared down the tracks towardsthe roundhouse. Then he shouted ferociously:
"Tell Evans to come, then--not a minute to lose!"
"Mr. Evans has gone for the doctor, for pa," answered the girl.
Griscom nearly had a fit. He flung his big arms around as if he wantedto smash something. He glanced at his watch, and slapped his hand onthe lever with an angry yell.
"Can't go back for an extra!" Ralph heard him shout, "and what'll I do?Rot the road! I'll try it alone, but----"
He gave the lever a jerk, the wheels started up. Ralph thought heunderstood the situation. He sprang to the step.
"Get out--no junketing here--life and death--Hello, Fairbanks!"
"Mr. Griscom," spoke Ralph, "what's the trouble?"
"Trouble--the shops at Acton are on fire, not a locomotive within tenmiles, and all the transfer freight hemmed in."
Ralph felt a thrill of interest and excitement.
"Is that so?" he breathed. "I see--they need help?"
"I guess so, and quick. Out of the way!"
The old engineer hustled about the cab, set the machinery whizzing attop-notch speed, and seized the fire shovel.
"Mr. Griscom," cried Ralph, catching on by a sort of inspiration, "letme--let me do that."
"Eh--what----"
Ralph drew the shovel from his unresisting hands.
"You can't do both," he insisted--"you can't drive and fire. Just tellme what to do."
"Can you shovel coal?"
"I can try."
"Here, not that way--" as Ralph opened the furnace door in a clumsymanner. "That's it, more--hustle, kid! That'll do. No talking, now."
Griscom sprang to the cushion. For two minutes he was absorbed, lookingahead, timing himself, reading the gauge, in a fume and sweat, like atrained greyhound eager to strike the home stretch.
Suddenly he ran his head and shoulders far past the window sill, anduttered one of his characteristic alarm yells.
"Rot the road!" he shouted. "No flags!"
He reached over for the tool box, and slammed up its cover. He pawedover a dozen or more soiled flags of different colors, snatched up two,shook out their white folds, and then, as the speeding engine nearlyjumped the track at a switch, flopped back the lever.
"Set them," he ordered.
In his absorbed excitement he seemed to forget the dangerous mission hewas setting, for a novice, Ralph did not ask a question. He threw insome coal, then taking the flags in one hand, he crept out through theforward window.
It was his first experience in that line. The swishing wind, theteeter-like swaying of the engine, the driving hail of cinders, allcombined to daunt and confuse him, but he clung to the engine rail,gained the pilot, set one flag in its socket, then with a stooping swingthe other, and felt his way back to the cab, flushed with satisfaction,but glad to feel a safe footing once more.
Griscom glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, with a growl thatmight mean approbation or anything else.
"Fire her up," he ordered.
Ralph had little leisure during the twenty miles run that followed--hedid not know till afterwards that they covered it in exactly thirtyminutes, a remarkable record for old 99.
As they whirled by stations he noticed a crowd at each. As they roundedthe last timbered curve to the south his glance took in a startlingsight just ahead of them.
On a lower level stood the car shops. He could see the site in the neardistance like a person looking down from an observation tower.
The setting sun made the west a glow of red. Against it were set theshop yards in a yellow dazzle of flame.
A broad sheet of fire ran in and out from building to building, fannedby the fierce breeze. On twenty different tracks, winding about amongthe structures, were as many freight trains.
This was a general transfer point to a belt line tapping to the south.Two of the engines from Stanley Junction were now rushing towards theouter trains which the flames had not yet reached, to haul them out ofthe way of the fire. No. 99 whizzed towards this network of rails, hoton the heels of the third locomotive.
The general scene beggared description. Crowds were rushing from theresidence settlement near by, an imperfect fire apparatus was at work,and railroad hands were loading trucks with platform freight and cartingit to the nearest unexposed space.
Ralph was panting and in a reek from his unusual exertions, but not abit tired. Griscom directed a critical glance at him, caught theexcited and determined sparkle in his eye, and said in a tone ofsatisfaction:
"You'll do--if you can stand it out."
"Don't get anybody else, if I will do," said Ralph quickly. "I likeit."
Griscom slowed up, shouted to a switchman ahead, using his hand for aspeaking trumpet, to set the rails for action. He to
ok advantage of thetemporary stop to rake and sift the furnace, put things in trim inexpert fireman-like order, and turned to Ralph.
"Now then," he said, "your work's plain--just keep her buzzing."
A yard hand jumped to the pilot with a wave of his arm. Down a longreach of tracks they ran, coupled to some twenty grain cars, backed, setthe switch for a safe siding, and came steaming forward for new action.
Little old 99 seemed at times ready to drop to pieces, but she stood thetest bravely, braced, tugged and scolded terribly in every loose pointand knuckle, but within thirty minutes had conveyed over a hundred carsout of any possible range of the fire.
Ralph, at a momentary cessation of operations, wiped the grime andperspiration from his baked face, to take a scan of the fire-swept area.
A railroad official had come up to the engine, hailed Griscom, andpointed directly into the heart of the flames to where, hemmed in anarrow runway between the walls of two smoking buildings, were fourfreight cars.
"They'll be gone in five minutes," he observed.
"I can reach them in two," announced Griscom tersely, setting his handto the lever. "Get a good man to couple--our share won't miss. Let hergo!"
A brakeman, winding a coat around his head like a hood, and keeping oneend open, sprang to the cowcatcher, link and bar ready.
Ralph shuddered as they ran into the mouth of the lane. It was chokedwith smoke, burning cinders fell in showers on and under the cab.
"Shove in the coal--shove in the coal!" roared Griscom, eyes ahead,lever under a tensioned control. "Good for you!" he shouted to thenervy brakeman as there was a bump and a snap. "Reverse. We've madeit!"
A sweep of flame wreathed the pilot. The air was suffocating. Ralphstaggered at his work. As the locomotive reversed and drew quickly outof that dangerous vortex of flame, the boy noticed that the last of thefour cars was blazing at the roof.
"Just in time," he heard old Griscom chuckle. "Hot? Whew!"
He set the wheels whirling on the fast backward spin, and stuck his headout of the window to shout encouragingly to the huddled, smoking hero onthe pilot.
They were passing a brick building, almost grazing its windows, justthen. Of a sudden a curl of smoke from one of these was succeeded by abursting roar, a leap of flame, and Ralph saw the old engineer envelopedin a blazing cloud.
An explosion had blown out the sash directly in his face. The glass,shivered to a million tiny pieces, came against him like a sheet ofhail.
Ralph saw him waver and sprang to his side. The engineer's face was cutin a dozen places, and he had closed his eyes.
"Mr. Griscom," cried Ralph, "are you hurt much?"
"Keep her going," muttered the old hero hoarsely, straightening up,"only, only--tell me."
"You can't see?" breathed Ralph.
"Do as I tell you," came the grim order.
"Switch," said Ralph, in strained, subdued tones as they passed out ofthe fire belt, ran forward, uncoupled, and sent the four cars down asafe siding, the brakeman and a crowd running after it to extinguish theburning roof of one of the freights.
Ralph saw Griscom strain his sight and blink, and shift the locomotivedown a V, then to the next rails leading in among the burning buildings.
He brought the panting little worker to a pause, asked Ralph to draw acup of water, brushed his face with his hand, and breathed heavily.
"Mr. Griscom," said Ralph, "you are badly hurt! You can't do anythingmore, for there's only one car left on the last track, right in the nestof the fire. Let me get somebody to help you where you can be attendedto."
He placed a hand pleadingly on the engineer's arm. Old Griscom shook itoff in his gruff giant way.
"What's that?" he asked.
He turned his face towards the fire. Ralph looked too, in suddenaskance. A crowd surged towards two buildings, nearly consumed, betweenwhich lay a single car. The firemen who had been playing a hose justthere dropped it, running for their lives.
"Get back!" yelled one of them, as he passed the engine, "or you're goneup. That's a powder car! We just found it out, and it's all ablaze!"
Ralph of the Roundhouse; Or, Bound to Become a Railroad Man Page 5