Tom discovered that the weariness which was creeping over him, stealing his strength, was hunger. The sight of Knight gnawing at a hunk of bread sent him to his coat for the package of food he had bought at Big Shanty. Andrews, too, became suddenly aware that he must eat. Brown, hovering over the throttle, was too intent upon pushing the General forward to be conscious of his body. He sat there as though hypnotized by the gleaming rails which stretched before him.

Tilton came into view. Andrews crossed over to Brown and told him where to stop for water; then he stood ready to swing off the engine to confront anyone who might interfere. The station was one hundred yards north of the water pipe, so the agent could not get a good view of the freight car. It was obviously no car to support the special powder train story: its end was broken open wide, and the sixteen men within were waiting in readiness to swing off and fight.

Brown and Knight adjusted the water pipe. Andrews hurried forward to meet the keeper. Tom was a few yards behind him, prepared to run back and call the men out.

"Special train," said Andrews. "Running through to Corinth."

"Through to Corinth?" demanded the man incredulously.

"All right!" yelled Knight.

Andrews and Tom turned and ran back to the engine without waiting to answer questions. The General with Knight at the throttle now, went roaring past the amazed agent. He stood rooted to the ground while the men in the freight car waved derisively.

Brown had collapsed in the fireman's seat, his head thrown back against the cab wall and his eyes closed. The strain of driving a locomotive at full speed over a strange track was beginning to tell upon him.

"There is nothing for us to do until we get past Dalton," said Andrews. "On the other side of the tunnel is a bridge. We'll set fire to it." He glanced at his watch. "We're ahead of the passenger train's schedule, and we may find the tracks blocked at the switches in Dalton."

"What then?" asked Knight.

"We'll have to fight our way through," answered Andrews. "Tom, tell the men to stand ready to jump out and fight at Dalton. You stay up on the tender and don't let any man show a head until I give the signal." Then, to Knight: "Stop a couple of hundred yards below the station while I run ahead and see if the switches are clear. If the way is open, we'll rush it."

"Right," answered the engineer. "More wood, Tom."

Tom climbed up on the tender and passed the orders back to the men; then he turned to stoking the fire.

"Here we are," said Andrews. Once again he was calm and deliberate. He seemed to be gathering himself together for the conflict with the station authorities at Dalton.

Tom glanced ahead and saw the town looming up before them—the big station, with its high roof sweeping out over the tracks, the passenger coaches and freight cars standing upon the side-tracks, and the maze of switches. It seemed like a network, spread out to catch them. He climbed up on the wood pile in the tender where he could see Andrews and repeat a signal for help to the men.

As the General stopped, Andrews sprang off and walked ahead. He paused to talk with several men who were coming down the track, then walked on toward the station. Suddenly he turned and motioned sharply.

Knight pulled the throttle open and the General fairly jumped. Andrews swung aboard. "Push her, Knight!" he yelled.

Tom, perched on the tender, saw a man rush from the station and wave. He shouted something but it was lost in the noise of the locomotive. Then they plunged into the darkness of the roof, and out again on the other side.

Ahead of them the track swerved sharply to the left. Knight saw it too late to moderate his speed. The General hit the curve and reared on its right wheels, hanging there for a breathless moment. Tom clutched the edge of the tender to keep from being thrown off. He saw Knight's hand slip from the throttle as he slammed it shut, saw Andrews' expression of horror. It seemed as though whole minutes passed while the General balanced on the curve, swaying and trembling. Then slowly it tilted back to the left and struck the tracks with a clash that made the locomotive shudder. It wavered from side to side, gradually settling itself upon the rails.

Knight glanced at Andrews; his hand went to the throttle again and drew it open. Tom entered the cab. There was not a word said about their narrow escape from a wreck.

Ten minutes later Andrews called to Knight to stop. "Tell them to tear up the tracks and break the telegraph line, Tom," he ordered.

Tom climbed over the tender and into the freight car. He repeated Andrews' orders. Shadrack grabbed him and asked: "What was that we struck back there?"

"Curve in the road," answered Tom. "Almost threw me from the tender."

"It bounced me five times between the walls of this car," answered
Shadrack.

The train came to a stop and the men streamed out through the back end of the car. Scott fairly shot up the telegraph pole.

Once again the whistle of the pursuers sounded.

"'Board," shouted Andrews. "Never mind about the track." When Tom joined him in the engine, he said: "Have the men start a fire in the freight car. We'll leave it in the first bridge shed. It's our last chance."

"How about the tunnel?" asked Tom. "An ambush—anything. Stop and fight them!"

"No—not now. Hurry! Get that fire started! Use the engine fuel!"

Tom went to the box-car. "Andrews wants you to start a fire here. We'll drop the car under the bridge shed. When you get the fire going, climb aboard the tender." He left the men gathering the splintered boards into a heap, and returned to the engine.

Shadrack's head appeared above the edge of the tender presently. He motioned to Tom. "This wood is so wet we can't light it. We haven't any paper."

"Wait," ordered Tom. He grabbed a log from the tender and went to the fire-box, thrusting one end into the blaze. "I'll have to pass the fire back to them," he explained to Andrews. "The wood is too wet."

When the end of the log was blazing, he pulled it out and raced back to Shadrack. The wind and the rain extinguished the flames, but he hurried forward again determinedly. This time he lighted several of the smallest logs, which burned more freely. He made three trips to the freight car, each time carrying a blazing torch, and he had just stepped into the tender with the last log when the blackness of night fell upon them. Tom paused for an instant bewildered. They had plunged into the tunnel.

The scene around him was illuminated by the flickering tongues of flame which lapped up the end of the log. He stumbled over the wood in the tender, and handed the log to Shadrack. Through the hole in the box-car he saw the men working at the fire. Several were bending over it, fanning, while others hurried back and forth in the dull glow bringing fuel. One man was breaking the walls of the car with the iron bar, throwing the boards back as he pounded and wrenched them loose. Then, suddenly, the blaze increased and the car was filled with smoke. Flames leaped several feet in the air, mounting high and higher until they spread out against the roof of the car.

"More logs, Tom."

Tom recognized Shadrack's voice. He passed log after log back.

The train emerged from the tunnel. The car was leaving a trail of smoke behind it; flames were darting from the side doors and flowing back against the walls. Several of the men climbed into the tender, wiping their eyes and coughing. More followed them until the tender seemed overflowing.

"All out, I guess," said Ross. "Whew! that's a hot fire."

"Where's Shadrack?" demanded Tom. They glanced about from one to another.
Shadrack was not among them.

Tom jumped up to the edge of the tender and let himself down into the freight car.

"Shadrack!" he called; then louder, "Shadrack! Shadrack!"

There was no answer. The dense smoke choked and blinded him. "Shadrack!" He ran down the car, holding his breath and dodging the flames. "Shadrack!"

"Here!"

"Where?"

"Outside."

Tom swung out around the end of the car and found Shadrack on the ladder, climbing and fighting the waves of smoke which drifted back upon him, enveloping him, from the side door. He was dragging himself wearily from one rung to another.

"Can you get up?" Tom asked. Shadrack gasped and shook his head. "Hold on tight! Just hold there!"

Tom started back for the center of the car, found the side door and put his head out for a breath of clean air. Then he drew the door shut and made his way to the rear end again. That would keep the smoke from Shadrack as he climbed to the top of the car. Tom clung there, holding to the brake bar and the ladder, looking up. He saw Shadrack's legs disappear over the edge. Dizziness overcame him for a moment. He held on with all his strength, closed his eyes, letting the cool rain splatter in his face. Then he climbed the ladder, Shadrack was sitting on the top of the car, swaying weakly.

"Are you all right, Shadrack?" asked Tom.

"Yes—in a second. Thanks for coming. The smoke almost finished me. I was scattering the flames around. Is the fire going all right?"

"Yes. We'd better get back to the tender."

"I would have fallen off, if you hadn't closed that door. I'm still dizzy."

Tom looked ahead and saw the bridge. "Come on, Shadrack," he said. "We have to get forward. On your hands and knees." He, too, was so dizzy that he could not trust himself to walk upright. Together they crawled forward over the hot roof. Beneath them the flames crackled.

As they came to the end of the car and looked down into the tender, they found the men yelling, "Shadrack! Burns!" One of the men was gesticulating wildly to Andrews.

"Here we are!" yelled Tom. He waved to Andrews.

"We thought you were caught in there," said Wilson, helping them into the tender. "Dorsey started after you, but the fire forced him back."

"We were almost caught," gasped Tom, still choking from the smoke. The forward part of the car was a solid mass of flames, which roared and crackled above the noise of the engine. "Pass some of those logs into the engine!"

Tom entered the cab and stuffed fuel into the fire-box. Andrews, leaning from the fireman's window, was gazing back. He called to Tom and pointed. Behind them, perhaps a mile and a half, came the pursuing engine.

"Tell the men to pull the coupling when we stop," said Andrews. Tom obeyed, and Ross crawled over the end of the tender, his coat wrapped about his head to protect him from the flames, which spurted out in the eddies of wind.

"How much fuel have you left?" asked Andrews.

"Ten sticks."

"This is our last chance, then," Andrews replied. "We'll have to abandon the locomotive if they get through."

Andrews jumped up and crossed to the other side of the engine. He stood beside Knight, shouting into his ear. Knight nodded; then he closed the throttle, and the General's speed slackened. The bridge shed was looming ahead of them.

The General darted into the shed and came to a stop. Tom stood at the door of the tender, waiting for the signal that the car had been uncoupled. Already the flames were licking the shed walls and mounting to the roof; the scene was illuminated in a wavering, red glow.

Boss jumped up from behind the tender, and yelled, "Go!"

"Go!" repeated Tom. The steam hissed and enveloped them in a cloud. The walls echoed the screeching of the wheels as they slid upon the tracks. Brown yanked at the sand lever. The wheels gained traction and the General jumped ahead and sped from the bridge.

Smoke was pouring from the ends of the shed as they looked back. And across the bend, a mile behind them, came the Texas!