The sudden jerk of the engine sent Tom spinning against the side of the cab. Andrews, who was mounting the wood-pile in the tender to see what was happening behind them, was thrown flat. He scrambled to his feet, his hands bleeding from the splinters, and climbed up the pile. Then he waved his arms and yelled in exultation. The yell sounded faintly through the noise of the engine.

Tom swung from the cab and looked back. The crowd was spilling from the shed. Several men raced after the train. Others stood watching, dumfounded.

Knight was bending over the throttle, urging the train forward as though he were putting his own strength into the flying pistons. His lips were drawn back from his set teeth, and his left hand upon the throttle was white from its grip. With his right hand he was pounding upon the sill of the cab.

Brown was studying the steam gauge. He had opened the forced draft and the smoke stack had become a fountain of sparks.

"More wood!" he yelled.

Tom stripped off his coat. The General was pounding upon the rails, swaying from side to side. It was almost impossible to stand without clinging to the side of the cab. Tom lurched cautiously toward the tender, grabbed a log and dragged it back after him. Brown swung the door of the fire-box open. Tom gasped as the heat struck him. The red flames seemed to leap out at him, enveloping him, smothering him. He slid the log into the fire. The door crashed shut again. "More! More!" yelled Brown.

Again and again Tom fed logs into the flames. Each time, Brown opened and closed the door as though an instant's heat were too precious to be lost. Brown's eyes were constantly upon the wavering needle of the steam gauge.

Andrews, sitting in the fireman's seat, was leaning from the window, glancing first ahead and then back. Except for that first shout of triumph, he had been calm and deliberate.

"Enough for now," shouted Brown. "Rest!"

Tom, panting and weak, climbed up beside Andrews and put his head out so that the cool wind would strike it. The violent effort of dragging those logs from the tender to the fire-box, together with the heat that played upon him each time, had made his legs seem like jelly beneath him. But the cool air revived him, and he watched Brown constantly for the signal that more wood was needed. Once he looked back and saw Shadrack leaning from the door of the boxcar. They waved excitedly to each other.

"Stop!" yelled Andrews to Knight.

Brown repeated the order. Knight, aroused from his intense purpose of forcing the last ounce of speed out of the General, shut the throttle. Brown gave the whistle a blast, and began twisting at the brake. Gradually the train lost its speed. The men in the box-car leaned from the door, asking why they were stopping.

"Come up here," yelled Andrews. "One of you men climb that telegraph pole and knock the insulating cap off. Then break the wire."

A little fellow named Scott scrambled up the pole. Telegraph communications were broken ahead of them.

"There's no telegraph station at Big Shanty," explained Andrews. "The best they can do is to go on horseback to Marietta and telegraph to Atlanta for an engine to pursue us. But they can't telegraph ahead of us! At Kingston we'll meet the regular freight train, which is traveling against us. While we're standing in the yards the door of the box-car must be closed. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" shouted the men.

"Hop aboard then!"

Once again the General started forward. Brown was at the throttle.

"More wood!" yelled Knight.

With Knight at the door of the fire-box, Tom yanked a half-dozen logs from the tender and slid them into the flames.

"Not too fast," Andrews called to Brown. "We're out of the worst of it now, and we don't want to get to Kingston too soon. Have to wait in the yards."

Brown nodded and slackened the speed. Now they could talk without yelling.
Presently Andrews ordered another stop and they drew up beside Moon
Station. He jumped out and came back with an iron bar. "Go ahead," he
yelled, then, pointing to the bar: "Good for pulling up track."

Tom added more fuel, and then stood at the door of the cab to see Allatoona as they went through. Brown opened the throttle gradually. The outskirts of the town whizzed past them; then the station. The crowd upon the station platform, expecting that this was the passenger train, stared uncomprehendingly as the train thundered in and out of town.

They rounded a bend which cut Allatoona off from view; then Andrews motioned to Brown to stop. Tom grabbed the brake and tightened it. The train stopped abruptly. Andrews pointed to the telegraph line.

"Tear it down, Scott. Let's pull up some rails here."

They ran to the rear of the train and pried one rail from the track. After ten minutes of feverish work, Andrews called:

"Load the rails on the box-car. Come on!"

They climbed aboard again, and the General carried them onward.

Tom was standing at the door of the cab, resting and watching the country, when Andrews came up behind him suddenly and exclaimed: "Look at that!" He pointed over Tom's shoulder to a locomotive that was standing, steam up, on a spur. "That's serious business," said Andrews quickly. "I wonder where it came from. I didn't think there was another locomotive between Atlanta and Kingston."

As they passed the locomotive, Tom read its name, Yonah, painted upon the side of the cab.

"Hadn't we better destroy the track?" asked Tom.

"No," Andrews replied, "we're only thirteen miles to Kingston. We better get there and past the freight without losing any time."

"More wood!" yelled Brown. Knight was at the throttle again.

The supply of wood was running low. A dozen sticks remained and those would soon be gone.

"Water's low, too," said Brown.

"We'll stop at Cass Station," replied Andrews. "It's a wood and water station—seven miles this side of Kingston."

As they drew up at Cass Station Andrews jumped from the engine. The old man who had charge of the wood and water came out to meet him.

"I'm running a special ammunition train to Beauregard and I have to have fuel," he said. "Tom, call the boys from the box-car and get them to work."

Tom raced back to the car and opened the door. "Give a hand on this wood," he shouted. They streamed out after him, and attacked the wood pile. Knight and Brown filled the tanks with water. Before the old station agent knew what had struck his little place, the General was steaming off up the road.

"We're a little ahead of time for Kingston," said Andrews anxiously. He peered ahead toward the town, and announced presently, "The freight isn't in. We'll have to wait. Let me do all the talking, boys, when we're in there. I don't like the looks of this. Run a few hundred yards up beyond the station, Knight. I'll jump off and have the switch thrown, and then you can back in on the side-track."

They coasted slowly into Kingston, and passed the station. Andrews jumped off. Tom, hanging out from the cab, saw him talking with the switchman. The latter threw the switch and waved.

"All right," said Tom. "Let her go back." Knight reversed the engine, and they cleared the track for the freight. Andrews swung aboard.

The station agent came running toward them. "What's this?" he demanded.
"What's this train? Who are you?"

"I'm running this train on government authority," answered Andrews calmly. "I'm rushing ammunition to Beauregard." He waved toward the box-cars. Then he demanded sternly: "Why isn't that local freight here?"

The agent was subdued. "It ought to be along any minute, sir," he answered.
"Is there a passenger train behind you, sir?"

"I suppose so," answered Andrews indifferently. "This engine was supposed to haul the regular train, but we had to take it for this work. Powder is more important than passengers these days. They were fitting out another passenger train at Atlanta when we left."

He handled the situation in masterful style. Tom, pretending to be busy inside the cab, listened and chuckled. Knight and Brown were out oiling the engine.

"When did the freight leave Adairsville?" demanded Andrews.

"I don't know, sir," answered the agent, "but I'll find out."

"Yes, please do—and hurry up about it."

"Yes, sir."

Before the agent returned, they heard the whistle of the freight far up the track. It approached slowly, and then crept into the station, stopping with the cars blocking the track for Andrews' train.

Brown, who was at the throttle, gave an exclamation of impatience. Andrews swung to the ground. At that moment the agent rushed out, and yelled to the freight engineer, "Draw farther up the track." The freight train started again, laboriously. Andrews jumped aboard.

"Run out of here just as soon as the switch is turned," he ordered.

The last car of the freight train rounded the trees and came into sight. On the rear of it was fastened a red flag! It was a warning that there was still another train behind!

"Good Lord!" exclaimed Andrews. He jumped to the ground again, and went toward the station. The conductor of the freight train met him. "What does this mean?" demanded Andrews. "I'm ordered to get powder up to Beauregard, and I find the track blocked ahead of me."

"It's not my fault," answered the conductor. "I haven't anything to do with it. But I don't think that you're going to get any powder to Beauregard on this road."

"Why not?"

"What will you do about Mitchel at Huntsville?"

"What do you mean?" asked Andrews.

"I mean that Mitchel broke through and captured Huntsville yesterday," answered the conductor. "If you're working for the government, you ought to know it by this time, too."

"Don't believe everything you hear," answered Andrews. "Mitchel wouldn't be fool enough to risk an attack on Huntsville in this weather."

"Then why are they bringing this special train down from Chattanooga with all the supplies?"

"That's their business, not mine," answered Andrews. "If Mitchel has captured Huntsville, then some of Beauregard's troops are split, and that's probably the reason why I'm ordered to get this powder up as far as I can. When I get there I'll find soldiers to use it."

"Maybe," answered the conductor.

"How long will it be before the special is here?"

"Probably about thirty minutes."

Forty minutes passed before they heard the whistle of the second train; then five minutes of anxious waiting before it came into the station. The first freight, in the meantime, had pulled up on another side track, waiting patiently for the arrival of the passenger train which Andrews' men had stolen.

The special train stopped, blocking the path of the General, just as the first had done.

"Oh, Lord," said Andrews. He sprang from the cab. "Move up there! Get out of my way! I'm running a special powder train! Pull up ahead!"

"I'll pull up if it'll do you any good," answered the engineer. "There's another special train right behind me."

"How far behind you?"

"Oh, twenty minutes, maybe. What are you running a powder train for? Who are you going to give the powder to? The Yanks?"

"To Beauregard!"

"You've got some trouble ahead. The Yanks have captured the line between you and Beauregard—two hundred miles of it—from Tuscumbia to Bridgeport!"

The conductor and the engineer of the first train had joined them. "You'd better turn back and go the other way," said the conductor. "If you go up there, the Yanks will get your powder."

"I'll follow my orders," replied Andrews.

He walked back to the General, and called Tom. "Walk down there beside the box-car and let the men know what has happened. Don't let anybody see you talking with them. Tell them that we're likely to have a fight—to be ready to jump out and use their guns."

Tom sauntered to the box-car and leaned against the door. "Hey! you men! This is Tom Burns. Andrews says that we're likely to have a fight. Get your guns ready."

"What's the trouble?" one of them asked. Tom explained as best he could the difficulties they had encountered. "There may be some more trains behind this one," he told them. "They're moving out of Chattanooga. The rebs are on the run!"

The whistle of the second special train sounded as Tom walked back toward Andrews. He stood beside the engine, listening to the argument between Andrews and the three railroad men. The first special had pulled far down the track, leaving ample room for the second to come in and for Andrews to get out.

The station agent came running toward them. "I've just had Chattanooga on the wire," he said, "and they don't know anything about this powder train. I tried to get Atlanta, but the wire is down!"

"Of course Chattanooga doesn't know anything about my train," answered Andrews calmly. "If they did, they wouldn't be sending these trains down blocking me. My orders came from Beauregard at Corinth, through Montgomery to Atlanta."

"Chattanooga orders you to wait here until the order is confirmed," said the agent.

"I don't care a rap for Chattanooga's orders," Andrews responded. "I have my own orders."

"I won't turn that switch to let you out."

"Then I'll turn the switch myself, and if you try to stop me I'll have you up for treason!" Andrews said it so calmly, so quietly, that the agent's jaw drooped.

The second special came creaking into the station. Andrews ran forward and shouted: "Run down until you clear the switch." The engineer nodded. "Tom, get down there and throw that switch!"

"Yes, sir."

Tom ran to the switch and waited. The station agent, with the other trainmen, had withdrawn to one side; they were holding an excited discussion as to what he should do.

The last car of the train rounded the bend. It carried no red flag! The road was clear ahead of them!

Tom threw the switch as the wheels of the last car passed. He waved to Andrews and the General rolled toward him. Then, just as he was aboard and their train was twisting into the main track, they heard a piercing whistle from the south.

"They're after us!" exclaimed Andrews. "Probably a train from Atlanta pursuing us! As fast as you can make her go, Knight."

The General went lunging down the track, gathering speed.