Chapter XVII
The Wreck of Forty-Eight
The two chums sought their berths that night in high fettle. Even Nedsloughed off his mood of apprehension which he had worn on boarding thetrain at Shopton.
For, true to the arrangement Tom had made with the railroad people,another reassuring telegram was brought to him before bedtime. Thesecond conductor responsible for the management of the Western boundfreight to which the Hercules 0001 was attached, sent back a briefstatement of the safety of the electric locomotive.
Naturally the two chums would have passed the freight and got wellahead of it before reaching Hendrickton. But Tom had business inChicago, and they stayed over in that city for twenty-four hours. Thefreight train went around the city, of course. But the telegramscontinued to reach Tom promptly, even at the hotel where he and Nedstopped in the city.
Occasionally the trainmen in charge of the freight mentioned Koku. Hiseccentric behavior doubtless somewhat puzzled the railroaders.
"That's all right," chuckled Ned. "Let them think Koku is dangerous ifthey want to. That O'Malley person believed he was!"
"I'll say so!" replied Tom. "The way he ran when Koku started after himthat time on the Waterfield Road seemed to prove that he didn't want tomix with Koku."
"If he--or other spies--learns that Koku is with the HerculesThree-Oughts-One, it ought to warn them away from the locomotive."
This was Ned's final speech before getting into his berth. He, as wellas Tom, slept quite as calmly on this first night out of Chicago asthey had before.
They knew exactly where the electric locomotive was. It was on the sameroad as this train they were traveling in, and, although on a differenttrack, it was not many miles ahead. In fact, if the two trains kept toschedule, the transcontinental passenger train would pass the freightin question about five o'clock in the morning.
It lacked half an hour of that time when the Pullman train camesuddenly to a jolting stop. Both Tom and Ned were awakened with therest of the passengers in their coach.
Heads were poked out between curtains all along the aisle and a chorusof more or less excited voices demanded:
"What's the matter?"
"Nothin's the matter wid dis train, gen'lemens an' ladies," came in theporter's important voice. "Jest nothin' at all's happened. It's donehappened up ahead of us, das all."
"Well, what has happened ahead of us, George?" asked Ned.
"Jest another train, Boss, been splatterin' itself all ober de right ofway. We sort o' bein' held up, das all," replied the porter.
"That's good news--for us," said Ned, preparing to climb back into hisberth. But he halted where he was when he heard his chum ask:
"What train left the track, George?"
"A freight train, sah. Yes, sah. Number Forty-eight. She jumped derails, side-swiped de accommodation dat was holdin' us back, and hasjest done spread herself all over de right of way."
"My goodness!" gasped Ned.
"Hear that, Ned?" exclaimed Tom. "Scramble into your clothes, boy. TheHercules Three-Oughts-One is hitched to Forty-eight."
"Suppose she's off the track?" murmured Ned.
"It's lucky if she isn't smashed to matchwood," groaned Tom, and almostimmediately left the Pullman coach on the run.
Ned was not far behind him. When they reached the cinder path besidethe freight train it was just sunrise. Long arms of rosy light reacheddown the mountain side to linger on the tracks and what was strewedacross them. A glance assured the two young fellows from the East thatit was a bad smash indeed.
Several of the rear boxcars were slung athwart the passenger tracks.The passenger train that had been ahead of the Pullman train on whichTom and Ned rode, had been badly beaten in all along its side. Scarcelya whole window was left on the inner side of the five cars. But thosecars were not derailed. It was merely some of the freight cars thatretarded the further progress of the transcontinental flyer. A derrickcar must be brought up to lift away the debris before the fast traincould move on.
Tom and Ned walked forward along the length of the wreck. Suddenly theanxious young inventor seized Ned's arm.
"Glory be!" he ejaculated. "It's topside up, anyway."
"The Hercules Three-Oughts-One?" gasped Ned.
"That's what it is!"
Tom quickened his pace, and his financial manager followed close uponhis heels. The forward end of Forty-eight had not left the track andthe electric locomotive stood upright upon the rails, being near thehead end of the train.
"If this wreck was intentional, and aimed at your invention, Tom,"whispered Ned Newton, "it did not result as the wreckers expected."
Tom scouted the idea suggested by his chum. And in a few moments theylearned from a railroad employee that a broken flange on a boxcar wheelhad caused the wreck.
"So that disposes of your suspicion, Ned," said Tom, approaching thehuge electric locomotive.
"Hey, gents!" exclaimed another railroad man, one of the crew of thewrecked freight. "Better keep away from that locomotive."
"What's the matter with it?" Ned asked, curiously.
"Got some kind of an aborigine caged up in it. You put your hand on anypart of it and he's likely to jump out and bite your hand off, orsomething. Believe me, he's some savage."
Both Tom and Ned burst into laughter. The former went forward to thedoor of the cab and knocked in a peculiar way. It was a signal that thegiant recognized instantly.
"Master!" Koku cried from inside the cab. "Master! Him come in?"
"No, Koku," said Tom. "I'm not coming in. Are you all right?"
"Yes. Koku all right. Him come out?"
"No, no!" laughed Tom. "You are not at your journey's end yet, Koku.Keep on the job a while longer."
"Sure. Koku stay here forever, if Master say so."
"Forever is a long word, Koku," said Tom, more seriously. "I'll tellyou when to open the door. I'll be at the end of the journey to meetyou."
"It all right if Master say so. But Koku no like to travel in box,"grumbled the giant.
Tom turned from the electric locomotive to see Ned staring across thetracks at a man who was talking to several of the train crew of theside-swiped accommodation train. That train was about to be moved onunder its own power. None of the wreckage of the freight interferedwith the progress of the accommodation.
Tom stepped to Ned's side and touched his arm. "Who is he?" theinventor asked.
The man who had attracted Ned's attention and now held Tom's interestas well was a solid looking man with gray hair and a dyed mustache. Hewas chewing on a long and black cigar, and he spoke to the train handswith authority.
"Well, why can't you find him?" he wanted to know in a hoarse andarrogant voice.
"Who is he?" asked Tom again in Ned's ear.
"I've seen him somewhere. Or else I've seen somebody that looks likehim. Maybe I've seen his picture. He's somebody of importance."
"He thinks he is," rejoined the young inventor, with some disdain.
In answer to something one of the railroad men said the importantlooking individual uttered an oath and added:
"There's nobody been killed then? He's just missing? He was sitting inthe coach ahead of me. I saw him just before the wreck. You knowO'Malley yourself. Do you mean to say you haven't seen him, Conductor?"
"I assure you he disappeared like smoke, sir," said the passengerconductor. "I haven't an idea what became of him."
"Humph! If you see him, send him to me," and the solid man steppedheavily aboard the nearest coach and disappeared inside.
Tom and Ned stared at each other with wondering gaze. O'Malley! Thespy who had represented Montagne Lewis and the Hendrickton & WesternRailroad in the East.
"What do you know about that?" demanded Ned, wonderingly.
"Hold on!" exclaimed Tom. He sprang across the rails after theconductor of the accommodation train that was just starting on. "Letme ask you a question."
"Yes, sir?" replied the conductor
"
Who was that man who just spoke to you?" "That man? Why, I thoughteverybody out this way knew Montagne Lewis. That is his name, sir--anda big man he is. Yes, sir," and the conductor, giving the watchingengineer of his train the "highball," caught the hand-rail of the carand swung himself aboard as the train started.
Tom Swift and His Electric Locomotive; Or, Two Miles a Minute on the Rails Page 17