Mystery Rides the Rails. Gilbert A. Lathrop. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Gilbert A. Lathrop
Издательство: Ingram
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежные детективы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781479446711
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a long time, simply because I was afraid of the banker’s displeasure. Those two men have caused me more trouble than any men I have ever had working for me. Last summer they let a train of ore run away, wrecked one of my best engines, and tore up several of my box cars.”

      Joe stepped closer to his new employer. “Mr. Orest,” he said, and his blue eyes were clear and direct, “if you’ll give me and Tubby a chance to help you, we’ll go the limit to do it. And as I told you yesterday when I applied for work, I’m a trouble doctor. I didn’t tell you that Tubby here is my assistant, but he is, and he’s a dandy too!”

      Mr. Orest suddenly reached out and slapped Joe on the shoulder. “My boy,” he said, and there was a quiver in his voice as he spoke, “I’m going to take you up on your proposition. I don’t know where or how you are going to help me raise that money to pay off the mortgage, but I have every confidence in you. You can consider yourselves as regular engineer and fireman on the Silver Town Northern, and I’ll back you up to the limit!”

      Both thanked him, then they went to their rooms where they could clean up, eat, and get their rest for the coming day.

      4

      OFF THE TRACK

      FOR a long time after they were gone Mr. Orest sat looking at the door through which they had left. There was a dreamy light in his eyes. He was thinking back over a span of empty years in which no child of his had shared his love, and he was thinking what a wonderful thing it would be if these two lads were his own sons.

      Early the following morning Joe and Tubby headed for the engine house. They ran their little locomotive out into the cold sunshine and carefully looked her over before they moved her down to the depot.

      Quite a sizeable group of people was assembled on the platform to see them off on their final lap of opening the railroad to traffic again. News of their efforts had been noised around, and everyone, save Anson Weird and his fireman, was there to wish them every kind of success.

      Joe coupled his engine into the coach. While he waited for the shovel men to come down to work, he dropped off beside his little charge and began carefully going over her again. He did not see the two men who came down the street, passed the depot, and halted beside him.

      “I thought you two fellers would be gone from here today,” sneered the older of them in an ugly voice. His eyes were coal black, his nose long and pointed. His teeth were yellow fangs.

      “No, we won’t be getting away today,” Joe smiled. “We have about half a mile of slides left to buck out.”

      “Didn’t Mr. Orest talk to you last night?” demanded the stranger.

      Joe frowned. “Perhaps an introduction might be in order,” he intimated.

      “I’m Anson Weird, engineer on this railroad. An’ now you might answer my question.”

      “Yes, I talked with Mr. Orest,” admitted Joe.

      “I thought he told you he was going to let you go,” said Anson.

      “He suggested something of the kind. He also suggested making a cash settlement for opening up his railroad, but we refused. His original bargain was to give my fireman and me regular jobs here!”

      “An’ he’s gonna stick to that?” barked Anson, angrily.

      Joe nodded.

      Anson deliberately turned on his heel. Followed by his fireman he took himself off up the street, directly toward the Silver Town National Bank.

      By this time all of the shovel men were assembled in the coach, so Joe climbed up into the cab and whistled off.

      His thoughts raced with the drive rods all the way down to the remaining slides. When he had asked Mr. Orest to keep him and his partner as engineer and fireman, and when he had assured Mr. Orest that he was a trouble doctor, he had been playing on his luck. The luck of Joe Jutton had been phenomenal while he had worked for the Continental Divide Railroad. He had acquired the nickname of “Lucky” there. He had been relying solely on his luck when he had assured Mr. Orest that he felt sure he could help him from his dilemma with the mortgage. There were ninety days in which to get a renewal on that mortgage. From what Joe could see of the railroad and its equipment, it was the best kind of security on that amount of money. He felt that if the worst came to the worst, he could go east on a scouting expedition and easily raise the amount.

      By this time they were down to the remaining slides. Joe halted while he waited for the men to face the first of them. When the shovel men clambered over the surface of that one, to start work on the next, he backed up the track to tear into the first one.

      By eleven o’clock there remained but one slide. It was not a large one, and both lads felt sure that they could go through it in one trial. Every man was rejoicing in the fact that the line was almost open again. Now those much needed provisions could be brought into the camp. It meant that the Sunnyside Smelter could go to work at full blast once more.

      Joe backed far up the track and came roaring down toward the last of the slides. He was tensed on his side of the cab. His reverse lever was clutched in both hands, ready to throw it over and back out on the first sign of the engine sticking. Tubby was on his side, a wide grin on his lips, and excitement glowing in his eyes.

      Then they were into it. There came the slowing surge, then the leaping white mass of snow as it rose over the top of the wedge plow. The air of the cab filled with steam.

      On the left-hand side the track dropped almost precipitously away from them several hundred feet to the river.

      Both lads felt the pony truck wheels rise over the restraining rails. Both felt the rough, bucking plunge as their engine bounded over the ties. The wedge plow headed directly for the frozen river below, then the locomotive followed it!

      The air of the cab was thick with steam. The steep bank of snow kept Joe from jumping from the right-hand side. Both realized they were trapped. Both of them felt their engine leave the rails. Joe shouted across to his chum: “Jump! Quick!”

      He did not think of himself. His hands were clutching the reverse lever. It was almost unconsciously that he jerked it back in the reverse motion. The wheels of the little engine spun on the rails, and she rocked and rolled dangerously. But Joe had saved her from going over the edge of the cliff.

      Slowly the steam cleared from the cab. Joe was standing with one hand still frozen to the reverse lever, his other on the throttle. But he was quite calm. He looked across to see if his chum had jumped. Tubby was still standing complacently on his side of the engine. His features were composed, and an indomitable grin was on his lips.

      “Why didn’t you jump?” demanded Joe.

      “Becauthe I didn’t want to leave you,” said Tubby simply.

      “But you stood a chance of getting caught under her if she tipped over,” said Joe, a frown corrugating his forehead.

      “Yeth an’ you thtood a chance of getting caught if the rolled over like the would have been thure to do,” grinned Tubby.

      By this time several of the shovel men were running toward the engine. Joe climbed down into the snow to survey the damage, and to see just how badly they were off the track. The wedge plow and the pony truck wheels were hanging over the edge, but the drivers rested on the ties and the embankment. A glance showed him that the tender was still riding the rails.

      Joe faced toward a shovel man who was slightly ahead of the balance.

      “She looks bad, doesn’t she?” he said.

      The shovel man nodded. “She sure does, but she looked worse there for a minute. You boys missed getting yours by a narrow margin this day,” he said, feelingly.

      Joe