Mystery Rides the Rails. Gilbert A. Lathrop
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Название: Mystery Rides the Rails
Автор: Gilbert A. Lathrop
Издательство: Ingram
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
isbn: 9781479446711
isbn:
“If you’ll move down near the depot, you’ll find a coach. You can pick it up to haul these men in,” he instructed.
Joe whistled off and hissed down the house track with spitting cylinder cocks. A cloud of steam almost completely hid him and his engine.
Mr. Orest provided his men with shovels, then he followed along on foot to the depot, where Joe and Tubby had already coupled into the coach while waiting for them.
The run down to the mouth of Animas Canyon was only about two miles. Joe made excellent time there. Once in the canyon, he proceeded more cautiously. Along here the shovel men had cleared the rails. Deep trenches through the slides showed where they had labored. Four miles of shoveled-out slides, and then Joe shut off his engine and drifted to a halt. Ahead of them was the first of the remaining masses of snow. Along here the track seemed to cling precariously to the side of an almost precipitous cliff. Above them for almost two thousand feet entended the steep side of the mountain. Below them almost the same distance was the drop to the icebound river.
Over on his side of the cab Tubby whistled.
“What’s the matter, Tubby?” shouted Joe, a grin on his lips, his blue eyes twinkling with excitement.
“Jutht come over here an’ look down to the river!” exclaimed Tubby.
Joe crossed the gangway and let his gaze drift below. Then he chuckled. “It’s a good drop, isn’t it?” he asked his companion.
Tubby nodded.
From the snow at the side of the cab, one of the shovel men called up to Joe,
“What do you want us to do?”
Joe immediately dropped down into the snow beside the man. “I want you to face that slide, so the wedge plow will not ride up on the slope of it, and throw us in the ditch,” he explained. The man nodded, and called instructions to his companions.
By “facing” the slide, Joe meant cutting into it eighteen inches or two feet so the beginning of it would offer a straight side for the wedge plow to bite into.
“Are they really figurin’ on hittin’ this slide?” asked one of the shovel men.
Another nodded.
“Then all I got to say about ’em is they’re plumb crazy!” remarked the first man, digging into the snow again.
3
“HIT HER HARD!”
JOE stood idly by while the gang of men faced the first slide. Then he beckoned them all to proceed ahead to the next obstruction, while he backed the little engine far up the track. Here he halted and had the coach cut off.
This done, Joe looked across the boiler at his companion. “What do you say, Tubby?” he called.
“I thay go ahead, and hit her hard!” called Tubby, his round face rosy, and his eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Get where you can jump off if she shows any symptoms of leaving the track,” warned Joe, as he gently opened the throttle.
The little engine snorted to a start. Her chopping exhausts grew closer together and droned into a steady roar. She rocked and rolled over the uneven track, took a long curve with a nerve-wracking side thrust, then she was into the snowslide. An abrupt slowing down, a white stream of heavy, blanketing snow rolled over the top of the wedge plow and came back along the running board to pile up before the front cab windows. A blinding fog obscured every object in the cab. Joe snapped his throttle closed, reversed his charge, and came roaring back out of the slide.
He halted a few feet away from it to see how much they had accomplished. Then his face broke into a grin of delight.
“We went over half way through that time, Tubby!” he shouted, gleefully.
Tubby nodded. He was mopping at his round face with a blue bandana handkerchief, and he appeared more rosy than ever, but there was no trace of fear in his eyes as he looked across at his partner.
“One more try at it, and we’ll be through,” called Joe. He opened the throttle again, and moved up the track to take another run.
They hit it the second time. Again they felt the blow as their little engine rammed into the obstruction, and felt her slowing down as she forced the cutting edge of the plow into hard-packed whiteness.
Then they were through! The first of the slides had been bucked out.
Both of them tingled with excitement, and both of them were grinning broadly as they backed up while they waited for the gang of men to face the next slide.
All forenoon they battered at the obstructions. Some of them were thrown out in one try; others were longer and deeper, taking many trials before they were removed. Through it all the little engine rode the rails as if she were glued to them, and she performed like a perfect piece of mechanism.
A short halt for lunch, and then they resumed their task. All afternoon they hammered at the slides. Night found them almost a half mile from where they had started that forenoon. Only a half mile of slides remained to be bucked out.
Joe backed up to the coach, coupled into it, and shoved it back to Silver Town again. They left the coach in front of the depot, then put the engine in the engine house so she could have any necessary work done on her, as well as be coaled and watered for the morrow. Then they made their way over to the office of Mr. Orest.
They found the owner of the little railroad bending over his desk, a pile of papers before him. He was writing rapidly as they entered, and he continued at this for some minutes while the two stood waiting for him to look up.
“How did you do, today?” asked Mr. Orest, at last.
Joe explained rapidly.
Mr. Orest smiled, and then his face grew sober again. “The agreement was that you lads would be given regular jobs as engineer and fireman if you were able to open up the line, wasn’t it?” he asked, abruptly.
“Yes, sir,” said Joe. “That was the agreement.”
Mr. Orest leaned forward on his chair. His face was very sober. “Would a cash settlement suit you as well?” he suddenly demanded.
Joe looked at Tubby, and Tubby looked at Joe. They stood for a space as though trying to read each other’s minds. Then Joe turned back to Mr. Orest.
“We don’t care anything about the money, Mr. Orest,” he said, quietly. “We really wanted steady work on your railroad.”
“I know,” agreed the owner, “but if I give you steady work I’ll be forced to let Anson Weird and his fireman go, to make room for you. Anson Weird is a brother-in-law to the president of the Silver Town National Bank, and the president holds a mortgage on my railroad, which falls due in ninety days. If I am unable to meet that mortgage, I stand СКАЧАТЬ