Part 6

Rumbling and screeching, the car sped onward. Alex began to feel the heat. Suddenly it swept over them like the breath of a furnace, and there came a mighty roar.

They were in the midst of the flames.

"Are you all right, Alex?" cried Jack.

"Yes." A moment later, however, Alex too sprang into the car, as he did so tearing off his handkerchief and stuffing it into one of the water-cans. "I couldn't have held on another minute," he choked. "I believe the handkerchief was burning."

Jack prepared to climb out to take Alex's place.

"No! Lay still!" interposed Alex. "The car will run by itself here. There's a down grade."

Jack dropped back thankfully. "Isn't it awful," he gasped. "My eyes are paining as though they would burst."

On rushed the car down the roaring, crackling tunnel of flames, groaning and screeching like a mad thing. Tongues of fire began to lick over the sides of the car at the cringing boys within.

Faster the car went. Presently it began to rock. "She'll be off the track!" cried Jack at last.

"Lie farther over!" directed Alex above the roar, himself moving in the opposite direction. The rearrangement steadied the car slightly, but still it rocked and plunged on the long unused track so that at times the boys' hearts leaped into their throats.

The heat was now terrific. The floor and sides of the car began to blister and crack.

"We can't stand it much longer! We'll be cooked!" coughed Jack.

"Empty one of the cans over your head," Alex shouted. "Keep up a few minutes longer, and we will be over the worst. It is the leaves and brush that are making the heat, and we'll soon be where they have burned out.

"I think we are over the worst of it now," he announced a moment later. "There's not so much crackling; and I don't think it is so hot."

Simultaneously the car began to leap less wildly, then perceptibly to slow up. Alex at once prepared to climb out again. "I'll give her another run," he said. But promptly Jack pressed him back. "No you don't! I'm going to take my turn." And in another moment he was out in the full glare of the still shrivelling heat, rushing the car on at the top of his speed. A hundred yards he drove it, and scrambled back within, gasping for breath. Emptying one of the remaining cans over Jack's head, Alex sprang out and took his place.

A moment after, they struck a slight up grade. Alex uttered a joyful shout. "Only a short run farther, Jack, and we're out of the woods!"

But immediately he followed this glad announcement with one of new alarm.

"The washout! I'd forgotten it! It's just ahead! The rails there almost hang in the air!"

In a panic Alex slowed up. Jack climbed out beside him. "Let us rush it," he suggested. "The rails may hold--like a bridge. We're not heavy. And we may as well take one more chance."

Alex debated. "All right! Come on! And jump quick when I say! I think I can tell when we are near it."

Once more the car was flying onward through the haze.

"Here we come! _Now!_"

With a bound Jack was back in the car. Alex made a final rush, and sprang after. The car dipped forward and sideways, a breathless instant seemed to hang in mid-air, then righted, and shot forward smoothly. Uttering a hoarse shout of joy, the boys leaped out, and were again running the car ahead, and a moment later gave vent to a second and louder cry.

In their faces blew the cooler air of a clearing.

A few yards farther they halted.

"I can't see a thing. Can't open them," declared Jack, as they stood rubbing their eyes, and recovering their breath.

"Neither can I. Give me your hand, and we'll soon fix it. There is a path here down to the water." Feeling with his foot, Alex found it, and pulling Jack after, hastened down, and in another moment both were on their stomachs on the river-bank, their faces deep in the cooling water.

Ten minutes later, greatly revived, but with faces and hands intensely smarting from their burns, the boys replenished the cans of water--for they still had a two miles' run through the smother of smoke--and lifted the car onto the main-line rails.

As they did so, from far to the west came a whistle.

"A train! Can't we stop her?" suggested Jack.

"They'd never see us in the smoke."

"Then, say, let us throw the old car across the tracks, so they'll strike it. They would probably stop to see what it was."

"It might derail her. No. I've got it. Come on, and get the car started so she'll cross the bridge, and I'll explain."

"Now," said Jack, as they rolled out on the trestle.

"You remember the steep grade just over the bridge? Well, we'll stop about fifty yards this side, wait till the train whistles the last crossing, then hit it up for all we are worth, and--"

"And let the train catch us?" cried Jack. "But, gracious! won't that be taking an awful chance?"

"No, for she won't be going very fast, on account of the curve at the bottom, and we'll be going like a house afire," declared Alex, confidently. "And when she bunts us, we'll jump for her cow-catcher, and five minutes later we'll be out in the glorious fresh air again."

[Illustration: CLOSER CAME THE ROARING MONSTER.]

"Well, all right. If you are willing to take the risk, I am," said Jack.

They reached the spot designated by Alex, and brought the car to a stand.

Again came the whistle of the train. "Ready!" cried Alex. "The next time!"

It came. Like sprinters they threw themselves at the car, and in a few strides were racing down the rails at full speed; reached the head of the grade, and sprang over the tail-board just as the train rumbled onto the bridge.

Downward they shot, gaining momentum at every turn of the wheels.

"Whe-ew! But we're taking an awful chance," said Jack, nervously.

"No. Listen to her brakes," said Alex.

Despite his assurance, when, a moment later, the great engine suddenly appeared out of the smoke and came thundering down upon them, Alex faltered, and, with Jack, nervously clutched the sides of the little car. But dashing on unrestrained, they yet further increased their mad speed, and for a few seconds seemed even to be holding their own with the mighty mogul.

Then the great engine began eating up the distance between them, and the boys gathered themselves together for the supreme moment.

Closer came the roaring monster. "Now, don't jump," cautioned Alex, who had regained his nerve. "Wait until she is just going to hit us, then fall forward and grab the brace--that rod there.

"Here she comes! Ready! _Now!_"

With a jolt the engine hit the car, and in an instant the boys fell forward, grasped a smoke-box brace, and in another moment had scrambled to the top of the cow-catcher.

And they were safe!

When, ten minutes later, the train came to a standstill at Bixton, the engineer suddenly felt his hair rise on end as two wildly unkempt and blackened figures appeared slowly dismounting from the front of his engine, and stumbled across the station platform. But the shout of joy which greeted them told they were no ghosts.

"Although I think we weren't far from it, were we, Jack?" said Alex, at home a few minutes after, when his mother made a similar comparison.

"I hope I'll not be as near it again for a long time to come," said Jack, earnestly.

VIII

THE SECRET TELEGRAM

"Alex, will you work for me three or four hours to-night?" requested the Bixton night operator of Alex one evening late in October. "I have just had an invitation to a surprise party at Brodies', and wouldn't care to miss it."

Alex agreed willingly. "I'll be right in line then for the latest news of the chase," he declared. For an attempt had been made that morning to rob the Farmers' Savings Bank at Zeisler, a posse had been sent from Bixton to aid in the pursuit of the robbers, and reports from the hunt were being anxiously looked for.

"Take care you don't get in line for any bullets," laughed the operator as he left. "It's your weakness, you know, to get mixed up in any excitement that's going on within a mile of you."

To Alex's disappointment hour after hour passed, however, and brought no further word, either of the pursued, or the pursuers. Finally, just before midnight, hearing Zeisler "come in" on the wire to report the passing of a freight, Alex reached for the key, determined to inquire.

As he did so footsteps sounded on the silent platform without, the waiting-room door opened, and two strangers appeared at the ticket-window. Glancing in, they turned to the office door, and entered.

"Hello, youngster," said the taller of the two, cordially, leaning over the parcel-counter. "What's the news from the man-hunt?"

"I was going to ask Zeisler just as you came in," replied Alex, turning again to the key.

"Well, never mind, then. Just tell them they were captured here, instead."

"What! Captured here?" exclaimed Alex.

"That's it. About an hour ago, just north, by the Bloomsbury posse. Sheriff O'Brien sent us down with the news, so you could send word up and down the line and call in the other posses. No need of them plugging around all night."

But, instead of complying, Alex suddenly turned more fully toward the two men. "What posse did you say you were with?"

"Bloomsbury! Bloomsbury!" said the smaller man, impatiently.

"Bloomsbury! Don't you mean Bloomsburg?"

"Well, what thundering difference--" The taller man flashed a warning gesture, and in an instant Alex understood.

_He was face to face with the bank robbers themselves!_

For a moment he stared from one to the other in consternation. Then, sharply recovering himself, he turned quickly back to the key. But he was too late. He had betrayed his discovery.

Both men laughed. "Your surmise is correct, my young friend," said the taller man, lightly. "We are the gentlemen who were forced to leave Zeisler so hurriedly this morning.

"But don't let that make any difference," he continued, producing a revolver and placing it significantly on the counter before him. "Go right ahead with the message.

"Or wait, give me a blank, and I'll write it, so you will be sure to have it right."

"Oh, hold on," interposed his companion. "Now that he knows who we are, how do you know he will send the message as you write it, and not just the other thing--give us away?"

The first speaker threw down his pen. "Well, I'm an idiot. That's so."

He thought a moment, then, turning toward Alex, eyed him sharply an instant, and said: "Youngster, I'll give you a dollar a word if you will give me your solemn promise to send this message just as I write it."

A bare instant Alex hesitated, while the tempter whispered that it would mean thirty or forty dollars for a few minutes' work, and that everyone would take it for granted he had been compelled to send it. Then abruptly he leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "I couldn't do it," he said quietly but positively.

"Oh, you couldn't, eh, Goody-goody?" exclaimed the smaller man, with a snarl, catching up the revolver and pointing it at Alex's head. "Now could you do it?"

The taller man caught his arm. "Don't be a fool, Jake. After all, we couldn't be sure he wasn't fooling us even if he took the money.

"Look here, I have a scheme."

They stepped back and spoke together in low tones for a moment; then the taller turned again to Alex, who meantime had remained quiet in his chair, futilely endeavoring to think of some means of spreading the alarm.

"I suppose you are not the only operator at this station, kid?"

"No; there is a day and a night operator. I am only 'subbing' for the night man," responded Alex, wondering.

"Where is he?"

"At a party."

"Where is the day man?"

"At his boarding-house. But you couldn't get either of them to do it," Alex declared confidently, thinking he had caught the drift of their purpose.

"Never mind what we could or what we couldn't. Where does the day operator board? Is it far?"

Momentarily Alex had a mind to refuse to tell; then, on the thought that suspicion might be aroused if one of the robbers went to rout the day man out, he replied, "About a quarter of a mile," and described how the house could be reached.

Again the two men held a whispered consultation, and at its conclusion the smaller man hurriedly left.

"Now I suppose you are wondering what we propose doing with the day operator," said the tall man, with a grin, when they were alone. "Well, it's so good I think I'll tell you. One of the cleverest getaway schemes you ever heard of, and my own idea. Can you guess?"

Alex shook his head. "If it's not to send the message--and which I know he won't--I don't know."

The robber laughed. "You are going to send the message, and he is going to stand just outside the door here and tell us letter by letter just what you make the instruments say. See?"

Alex uttered an exclamation. And, strange as it may seem, it was not entirely of chagrin, for the striking originality and ingenuity of the plan immediately appealed to his own peculiar genius for getting over difficulties.

"And then," continued the talkative safe-breaker, "we will tie you both in your chairs, cut the wires, then flag the night express, and depart for the East like respectable citizens, and by the time you have been found and the wires restored we will be well out of danger.

"Now, I claim there is some class to that scheme. What?"

Despite himself, Alex could not forbear a smile, even while he at once saw that to defeat the plan would be almost an impossibility. Nevertheless, as the bank robber turned his attention to a time-table, Alex determinedly addressed his wits to the problem.

Presently, as he sat looking at the telegraph instruments for an inspiration, he started. That last First of April joke he had played on his father! The cut-off arrangement of wires was still in place beneath the instrument table! Could he not use it?

He determined to see whether the connections were still in order. Fortunately he was sitting close to the table, with his feet beneath. Making a move as though tired of his position, he crossed one foot over the other, and sank a little lower in the chair. Then, the change having brought no comment from the man at the counter, he carefully reached out the upper foot, found the two wires and pressed them together. Immediately came a click from the instruments.

It was in working order! With hope Alex at once addressed himself to its possibilities, and soon a suggestion came. "Yes, I believe I could do it," he told himself with satisfaction. "I'll make a try anyway. So much for never giving up."

At that moment the footfalls of the returning robber and those of another sounded on the platform without. Both men were talking, and as they entered the waiting-room Alex heard the evidently still unsuspecting Jones say: "Funny, though. I never heard of the boy being troubled with his heart before."

[Illustration: "COME ON! COME ON!" EXCLAIMED THE MAN IN THE DOORWAY.]

The next moment Jones's casual tones changed to a sharp cry of fright, and Alex knew that the robber had revealed himself. "Now you keep your tongue between your teeth, and do exactly what you are told, young man, or you get this! You understand?

"Now turn about--your back toward the office door--so." The door was flung open, and the robber appeared standing sideways, his gun in his hand, pointing at the day operator, who was just out of Alex's sight.

"Now what you are to do is to read off letter by letter what this young shaver in here sends on the wire. You are a tab on him. You understand?"

In a trembling voice Jones responded in the affirmative.

"And the first one of you who appears to do anything not straight and aboveboard gets daylight through his head," he added, raising his voice for Alex's benefit. Then, addressing his partner, he said: "Give the kid the message, Bill."

The tall man leaned over the counter and tossed the blank on the table before Alex.

"Who will I send it to first?" asked Alex.

"The sheriff, Watson Siding."

"All right. But first, you know, I have to call him," explained Alex, somewhat nervously, now that the critical moment had come. "His call is WS."

Therewith he began slowly calling, that Jones might read off each letter as he sent it, "WS, WS, WS, BX."

"WS, WS--"

"I, I," answered WS.

"WS answers," interpreted Jones.

Steadying himself with a deep breath, Alex proceeded to carry out his plan. Carefully reaching forth with his foot beneath the table, he pressed the two wires together, then loudly clicked his key. The instruments, thus "cut out," of course failed to respond.

"The wire appears to have opened," announced Jones. "Probably the man at WS has opened his key while getting a blank or a pen."

Again Alex clicked the key as though in a futile effort to send, then leaving it open, thus holding the instruments on the table "dead," began ticking his foot against the impromptu key beneath the table.

And while the instruments at Bixton remained momentarily silent, the surprised operator at Watson Siding read in draggy but decipherable signals the words:

"Read every other word."

"Come on! Come on!" exclaimed the man in the doorway, turning suspiciously. Immediately Alex withdrew his foot and closed the key, and at the resulting audible click Jones announced: "The wire has closed. He can send now."

"All right. Come ahead," commanded the short man, impatiently.

Then very deliberately, with a pause after each word, seemingly to enable Jones to interpret, but really to give himself time to send another word, unheard, beneath the table, Alex sent on the key, and Jones read aloud, the following message:

"Sheriff,

"Watson Siding:

"Safe-blowers have been captured near here. Call in your posse.

"(Signed) O'Brien,

"Sheriff Quigg County."

What the at first puzzled and then thunderstruck operator at Watson Siding read off his instrument ran very differently. It read:

"Safe THEY blowers ARE have HERE been IN captured STATION near INTEND here. GOING call OUT in BY your NIGHT posse. EXPRESS.

"(Signed) 'PHONE O'Brien, "BACK Sheriff HERE Quigg QUICK County."

A moment after giving his "OK" the Watson Siding operator was at the telephone calling for Bixton central.

Meantime, having thus sent the message to WS to the bank-breakers' satisfaction, Alex proceeded to call and send it by turns to Zeisler, Hammerton, and other stations on the line. Sending slowly, to make the most of his time, it was within fifteen minutes of the hour the express was due when Alex had sent the last of the messages.

"Now you can step in and see your friend," said the man in the doorway, addressing Jones, who appeared, white and trembling, and coming behind the counter, dropped into a chair facing Alex. The speaker then once more disappeared, and presently an opening click of the instruments told the nature of his errand. The wires had been cut.

He soon returned, and rummaging about, while the taller man stood guard over them, he found some ropes, and proceeded to bind Alex and the day operator tightly in their chairs.

Just as the task was completed there came a long-drawn whistle from the west. Both robbers promptly turned to the door. "Well, good night, gentlemen," said the smaller, grimly. "Much obliged for your kind services."

"And I would just pause to repeat," said the taller, jocosely, "that there is some class to this getaway scheme, should any one ask you. Good night."

"_Yes, there is class--but it isn't first!_"

Uttering a cry the two bank robbers staggered back from the door, and with a bound the deputy sheriff and a constable were upon them, bore them to the floor, and after a brief but terrific struggle disarmed and handcuffed them.

"Yes," said the sheriff, rising, and with his knife quickly freeing the two prisoners, "there was class to it, but it was _second_.

"Our young friend here takes '_first_.'"

[Illustration: "HOW DID YOU DO IT, SMARTY?" SNAPPED THE SHORTER MAN.]

The robbers turned upon Alex with furiously flashing eyes. "How did you do it, smarty?" snapped the shorter man.

Alex laughed, kicked one foot beneath the table, and the instrument responded with a click. "A little First of April trick. What do you think of it?"

Whatever the two renegades might have said through their gritting teeth, there was no doubt as to what the sheriff and the others thought. Nor the bank officials at Zeisler, when, a day later, there came to Alex a highly commendatory letter and a check for two hundred dollars.

But better even than this, in Alex's estimation, a few mornings after the chief despatcher called him to the wire and announced his appointment as night operator at Foothills, a small town on the western division.

IX

JACK PLAYS REPORTER, WITH UNEXPECTED RESULTS

Not long after Alex left Bixton to take up his duties at Foothills, Jack, at Hammerton, also received an advancement. In itself it was not of

## particular note, beyond an encouraging increase in salary, and a transfer

from the day to the night force; but indirectly it resulted in an experience more thrilling than any Jack's genius for tackling adventurous difficulties had yet brought him.

Wheeling by the office of the "Daily Star" one afternoon, he heard his name called, and turned his head to discover West, the reporter with whom he had made the memorable Oakton trip, hastening after him.

"Just the man I was looking for, Jack," declared West, as the young operator wheeled to the curb. "I have a job for you.

"How would you like to tackle a bit of Black Hand investigation?"

Jack laughed. "You don't mean it."

"I certainly do. It's this way," went on the reporter, lowering his voice. "A Black Hand letter demanding money was received last week by Tommy Spanelli, of the Italian restaurant. It was mailed here; and we have the tip that last evening two foreigners were seen stealing across the old quarry turnpike, and into the woods, as though not wishing to be seen. Of course they may not be connected with this at all, but again they may; and I was put on the job to find out. The difficulty is that I am too well known. If they caught sight of me, they would be suspicious immediately.

"But they would never suspect a lad like you," West proceeded; "and I know you could carry anything through that came along. So will you run out there and investigate for me?"

"Why, certainly. But just what shall I do?" Jack asked.

"Wheel up and down the quarry turnpike for an hour or so, then, if you have seen no one, beat around through the woods as far as the old stone quarry. And any foreigners you come upon, take a good look at. That's all. And drop in at the office here in the morning, and report."

"That's easy. All right," agreed Jack readily.