Plympton was less than five miles ahead just as dusk began to fall.

Ralph noticed that his fireman rustled about with a good deal of unnecessary activity. He would fire up to the limit, as if working off some of his vengefulness and malice. Then he went out on the running board, for no earthly reason that Ralph could see, and he made himself generally so conspicuous that young Clark leaned over and said to Ralph.

"What's the matter with your fireman, anyhow--that is, besides that load he's got aboard?"

"Oh, he has his cross moods, like all of us, I suppose," explained Ralph, with affected indifference.

"I wouldn't take him for a very pleasant comrade at any time,"

observed Clark. "It's a wonder he don't take a tumble. There he is, hitching around to the pilot. What for, I wonder?"

Ralph was not paying much attention to what the cab pa.s.senger was saying. He had made up five minutes, and his quick mind was now planning how he would gain five more, and then double that, to Plympton and beyond it.

He gave the whistle for Plympton, as, shooting a curve, No. 999 drove a clattering pace down the grade with the lights of the station not a quarter-of-a-mile away. They were set for clear tracks, as they should be. Ralph gave the lever a hitch for a rattling dash on ten miles of clear running. Then fairly up to the first station semaph.o.r.e, he broke out with a cry so sharp and dismayed that young Clark echoed it in questioning excitement.

"The siding!" cried Ralph, with a jerk of the lever--"what's the meaning of this?"

"Say!" echoed Clark, in a startled tone, "that's quick and queer!"

What had happened was this: No. 999 going at full speed on clear signals had been sent to a siding and the signals cancelled without a moment's warning. Under ordinary circ.u.mstances, a train thus sidetracked would be under notified control and run down the siding only a short distance. Going at high speed, however, and with a full head of steam on, Ralph realized that, long as the siding was, he would have to work quick and hard to check down the big locomotive before she slid the limit, and stuck her nose deep into the sand hill that blocked the terminus of the rails.

It was quite dark now. The lights of the station flashed by. Both hands in use to check the locomotive and set the air brakes, Ralph leaned slightly from the cab window and peered ahead.

"Shoot the sand!" he cried, almost mechanically.

It was a good thing that the cab pa.s.senger was aboard and knew something about the cab equipment. Young Clark reached the side of the engineer's seat in a nimble spring. His hand located the sand valve without hesitancy.

Ralph uttered a short, sharp gasp. That look ahead had scared him. He was doing all he could to slow down, and was doing magnificently, for the reverse action moved to a charm. Still, he saw that after dashing fully two hundred yards down the siding, the natural momentum would carry the train fully one-third that distance further.

"Any obstruction?" shot out his agile companion, springing to the fireman's seat, sticking his head out of the window and staring ahead.

"Whew! we're going to hit."

The speaker saw what Ralph also beheld. Dimly outlined directly in their path was a flat car, and above it, skeletonized against the fading sunset sky, was the framework of a derrick. A repair or construction gondola car was straight ahead of No. 999.

They seemed to be approaching it swiftly and irresistibly. The wheels slid now, fairly locked, there was a marked ease-down, but Ralph saw plainly that, great or small, a collision was inevitable.

"Say, that fireman of yours!" shouted young Clark--"there he goes."

The locomotive was fairly upon the obstruction now. Ralph stuck to the lever, setting his lips firmly, a little pale, his muscles twitching slightly under the stress of excitement and suspense.

"Zing!" remarked the cool comrade of the young engineer--"we're there!"

At that moment a flying form shot from the running board of the locomotive. Lemuel Fogg had jumped.

CHAPTER III

ONE OF THE RULES

Locomotive No. 999 landed against the b.u.mper of the gondola car with a sharp shock. However, there was no crash of consequence. The headlight radiance now flooded fully the obstruction. Young Clark suddenly shouted:

"Look out!"

The quick-witted, keen-eyed special pa.s.senger was certainly getting railroad training so coveted by his magnate father. He saw the fireman shoot through the air in his frightened jump for safety. Lemuel Fogg landed in a muddy ditch at the side of the tracks, up to his knees in water.

The sharp, warning cry of Marvin Clark was not needed to appraise Ralph of the danger that threatened. The jar of the collision had displaced and upset the derrick. Ralph saw it falling slantingly towards them. He pulled the reverse lever, but could not get action quick enough to entirely evade the falling derrick. It grazed the headlight, chopping off one of its metal wings, and striking the pilot crushed in one side of the front fender rails.

The young engineer gave the signal for backing the train, and kept in motion. His purpose was to allay any panic on the part of the pa.s.sengers, whom he knew must be alarmed by the erratic tactics of the past few moments. Then after thus traversing about half the distance back to the main line, he shut off steam and whistled for instructions.

"Another notch in my education," observed young Clark with a chuckle--"been waiting to pa.s.s examination on a smash up."

"Oh, this isn't one," replied Ralph. His tone was tense, and he showed that he was disturbed. He was too quick a thinker not to at once comprehend the vital issue of the present incident. With Fogg headed down the track towards him from the ditch, trying to overtake the train, and the conductor, lantern in hand, running to learn what had happened, Ralph sized up the situation with decided annoyance.

The action of the station man in giving the free track signal and then at a critical moment shooting the special onto the siding, had something mysterious about it that Ralph could not readily solve. The slight mishap to the locomotive and the smashing of the derrick was not particularly serious, but there would be a report, an investigation, and somebody would be blamed and punished. Ralph wanted to keep a clear slate, and here was a bad break, right at the threshold of his new railroad career.

All he thought of, however, were the delays, all he cared for at this particular moment was to get back to the main tracks on his way for Bridgeport, with a chance to make up lost time. A sudden vague suspicion flashing through his mind added to his mental disquietude: was there a plot to purposely cripple or delay his train, so that he would be defeated in his efforts to make a record run?

"What's this tangle, Fairbanks?" shouted out the conductor sharply, as he arrived breathless and excited at the side of the cab.

His name was Danforth, and he was a model employee of long experience, always very neat and dressy in appearance and exact and systematic in his work. Any break in routine nettled him, and he spoke quite censuringly to the young engineer, whom, however, he liked greatly.

"I'm all at sea, Mr. Danforth," confessed Ralph bluntly.

"Any damage?--I see," muttered the conductor, going forward a few steps and surveying the scratched, bruised face of the locomotive.

"There's a gondola derailed and a derrick smashed where we struck,"

reported Ralph. "I acted on my duplicate orders, Mr. Danforth," he added earnestly, "and had the clear signal almost until I pa.s.sed it and shot the siding."

"I don't understand it at all," remarked the conductor in a troubled and irritated way. "You had the clear signal, you say?"

"Positively," answered Ralph.

"Any serious damage ahead?"

"Nothing of consequence."

"Back slowly, we'll see the station man about this."

The conductor mounted to the cab step, and No. 999 backed slowly. As they neared the end of the siding the train was again halted. All down its length heads were thrust from coach windows. There was some excitement and alarm, but the discipline of the train hands and the young engineer's provision had prevented any semblance of panic.

The conductor, lantern in hand, ran across the tracks to the station.

Ralph saw him engaged in vigorous conversation with the man on duty there. The conductor had taken out a memorandum book and was jotting down something. The station man with excited gestures ran inside the depot, and the signal turned to clear tracks. Ralph switched to the main. Then the conductor gave the go ahead signal.

"That's cool," observed young Clark. "I should think the conductor would give us an inkling of how all this came about."

"Oh, we'll learn soon enough," said Ralph. "There will have to be an official report on this."

"I'm curious. Guess I'll go back and worm out an explanation," spoke Clark. "I'll see you with news later."