After quieting Juniper, and having
the satisfaction of seeing him begin to eat hay quite
as though he were in his own stable, Rod left the car
and followed his railroad friends in order to learn
something about getting a train ready for its run.
He found them walking on opposite sides of it, examining
each car by the light of their lanterns, and calling
to each other the inscriptions on the little leaden
seals by which the doors were fastened. These
told where the cars came from, which information, together
with the car numbers, and the initials showing to what
road they belonged, Conductor Tobin jotted down in
his train-book. He also compared it with similar
information noted on certain brown cards, about as
wide and twice as long as ordinary playing-cards,
a package of which he carried in his hand. The
destinations of the several cars could also be learned
from these cards, which are called “running
slips.” Each car in the train was represented
by one of them, which would accompany it wherever it
went, being handed from one conductor to another,
until its final destination was reached.
At length, about ten o’clock,
through Freight Number 73, to which car number 1160
was attached, received its “clearance,”
or order to start, from the train-dispatcher, and
began to move heavily out from the yard, on to the
main west-bound track. Juniper now did not seem
to mind the motion of the car in the least; but continued
quietly eating his hay as though he had been a railroad
traveller all his life. So Rod, who had watched
him a little anxiously at first, had nothing to do
but stand at the open door of his car and gaze at
what scenery the darkness disclosed. Now that
he was beginning to comprehend their use, he was deeply
interested in the bright red, green, and white lights
of the semaphore signals that guarded every switch
and siding. He knew that at night a white light
displayed from the top of a post, or swung across
the track in the form of a lantern, meant safety,
a red light meant danger, and a green light meant caution.
If it had been daytime he would have seen thin wooden
blades, about four feet long by six inches wide, pivoted
near the top of the same posts that now displayed
the lights. He would have learned that when these
stretched out horizontally over the track, their warning
colors must be regarded by every engineman; while
if they hung down at an angle, no attention need be
paid to them.
Being a very observant boy, as well
as keenly interested in everything to be seen on a
railroad, Rod soon discovered that the semaphore lights
also appeared at intervals of a few miles along the
track, at places where there were no switches, and
that these always moved as soon as the train passed
them. He afterwards discovered that these guarded
the ends of the five-mile blocks, into which the road
was divided along its entire length. Each of
the stations, at these points, is occupied by a telegraph
operator who, as soon as the train enters his block,
displays a red danger signal behind it. This
forbids any other train to enter the block, on that
track, until he receives word from the operator at
the other end of the block that the first train has
passed out of it. Then he changes his signal
from red to white, as a notice that the block is free
for the admission of the next train. This “block
system,” as it is called, which is now in use
on all principal railroad lines, renders travel over
them very much safer than it used to be before the
system was devised.
After watching the semaphore lights
for some time, and after assuring himself that Juniper
was riding comfortably, Rod spread a blanket, that
Brakeman Joe had loaned him, over a pile of loose hay,
placed his M. I. P. bag for a pillow, and in a few
minutes was sleeping on this rude bed as soundly as
though he were at home.
Some hours later the long, heavily
laden train stopped at the foot of the steep grade
just east of Euston, and was cut in two in order that
half of it might be drawn to the top at a time.
Rear Brakeman Joe was left to guard the part of the
train that remained behind, and he did this by walking
back a few hundred yards along the track, and placing
a torpedo on top of one of the rails. Then he
went back as much farther and placed two torpedoes,
one a rail’s length behind the other.
These railroad torpedoes are small,
round tin boxes, about the size of a silver dollar,
filled with percussion powder. To each is attached
two little straps of lead, which are bent under the
upper part of the rail to hold the torpedo in position.
When it is struck by the ponderous wheels of a locomotive,
it explodes with the sound of a cannon cracker.
The explosion of two torpedoes, one directly after
the other, is the signal for caution, and bids the
engineman proceed slowly, keeping a sharp lookout
for danger. The explosion of a single torpedo
is the signal of immediate danger, and bids him stop
his train as quickly as possible. Thus Brakeman
Joe had protected his train by arranging a cautionary
signal, which would be followed immediately by that
of danger. Before his train started again he
intended to take up the single torpedo, leaving only
those calling for caution, to show that the freight
had been delayed. In the meantime he decided
to walk back to the cars left in his charge and see
that no one was meddling with them.
Rod was too soundly asleep to know
anything of all this, nor did he know when an ugly-looking
fellow peered cautiously into his car, and said, in
a low tone: “This here ain’t it.
It must be the one ahead.” The first thing
of which he was conscious was hearing, as in a dream,
the sound of blows, mingled with shouts, and a pistol
shot, and then Brakeman Joe’s voice calling:
“Rod! Rod Blake! Help! quick!”
An instant later the boy had leaped
from the car, and was by his friend’s side,
engaged in a desperate struggle with four as villainous-looking
tramps as could well be found; though, of course, he
could not judge of their appearance in the darkness.
Joe was wielding the heavy oak stick that at other
times he used as a lever to aid him in twisting the
brake wheels; but Rod was obliged to depend entirely
on his fists. The skill with which he used these
was evidently a surprise to the big fellow who rushed
at him, only to receive a stinging blow in the face,
which was followed by others delivered with equal
promptness and effect. There were a few minutes
of fierce but confused fighting. Then, all at
once, Rod found himself standing alone beside a car
the door of which was half-way open. Two of the
tramps had mysteriously disappeared; he himself had
sent a third staggering backward down the bank into
a clump of bushes, and he could hear Brakeman Joe
chasing the fourth down the track.
A few minutes later the locomotive
came back, sounding four long blasts and one short
one on its whistle, as a recall signal for the rear
flagman. It was coupled on, and some one waved
a lantern, with an up-and-down motion, from the rear
of the train, as a signal to go ahead. The engineman
opened the throttle, and the great driving wheels spun
round furiously; but the train refused to move.
He sounded two long whistle blasts as a signal to
throw off brakes. Then a lantern was seen moving
over the tops of the cars, the brakes that had been
holding them, were loosened, and the signal to go
ahead was again waved. After this the lantern
disappeared as though it had been taken into the caboose,
and the train moved on.
Its severed parts were re-united at
the top of the grade, and it passed on out of the
block in which all these events had taken place, before
Conductor Tobin, who had wondered somewhat at not seeing
Brakeman Joe, discovered that the faithful fellow
was missing. He was not on top of any of the
cars, nor in the caboose, and must have been left behind.
Well, it was too late to stop for him now. Freight
Number 73 must side-track at the next station, to
allow the night express to pass, and it had already
been so delayed, that there was no time to lose.
When the station was reached, and
Conductor Tobin had seen his train safely side-tracked,
he went to look for Rod Blake. He meant to ask
the boy to take Brakeman Joe’s place for the
rest of the run, or until that individual should rejoin
them by coming ahead on some faster train. To
his surprise the young stockman was not in car number
1160, nor could a trace of him be found. He,
too, had disappeared and the conductor began to feel
somewhat alarmed, as well as puzzled, by such a curious
and unaccountable state of affairs.