CHAPTER XXII.

THE NEW FIREMAN.

“All aboard!” shouted our bustling conductor, who was a very gentlemanly young man, and had had considerable experience in this capacity.

He wore a gold badge on the lapel of his coat, wrought in the shape of a train of cars, on which was inscribed the word “Conductor,” in such curious old English text that no one who did not know what it was could read it. He alleged that the jewel had been presented to him by a host of admiring passengers; but those who knew him best declared that he had spent a whole month’s salary in its purchase. It was a very pretty thing, and, wherever he got it, he was certainly polite enough to have merited it.

The gentleman with the gold jewel bowed, and gracefully made the signal to me; and, after glancing at the reversing handle, I grasped the throttle valve, ready to start. At this moment Lewis sprang upon the foot-board. I had attended to the fire myself, and was thoroughly disgusted with the conduct of my fireman.

“Stop!” shouted Tommy, imperiously.

It was the president of the road who spoke, and I was obliged to obey.

“It is against the rules of the road for any one to ride on the engine,” continued the little magnate.

“I never heard of any such rule before, Mr. President, or I should not have disregarded it,” I replied, as gently as I could, though I know my face flushed with indignation.

“I make the rule now, then,” added Tommy.

“Tom is only going to Grass Springs with me,” I ventured to suggest.

“He shall not ride on the engine. Conductor, you will collect his fare,” replied Tommy, glancing at the gentlemanly person with the gold jewel.

“Wolf, I haven’t a red cent in my trousers pocket; but I suppose I can walk to the Springs,” said my friend, who knew how vain it would be to appeal against the orders of the magnificent little president.

I slipped half a dollar into his hand, and he jumped down.

“Have you the money to pay your fare?” demanded the gentlemanly conductor, for he was ready enough to “spoony” to the president.

“I have,” answered Tom, with dignity, as he stepped into the forward car.

It was a gratuitous insult to me, and Lewis Holgate chuckled with delight. I bit my lips with vexation; but I said nothing--it was of no use to say anything. Even Major Toppleton himself would not have dared to dispute the fiat of his son.

“All right!” cried the conductor; and I started the train, a minute behind time.

I was vexed and unhappy. I felt like a free man reduced to slavery. I had lost Tommy’s favor, and I was nobody, though everybody else praised me. I felt that I had done my duty to the road, and to Middleport in general. I had worked hard at electioneering to keep Tommy in his position as president. I had supported him to the best of my ability; but he insulted me without remorse. I could not help thinking that it was stupid and servile in me to stand it; and I did not think I could endure another snubbing without resenting it. I felt weak and ashamed of myself, especially as Colonel Wimpleton was still anxious to have me go in the new steamer.

I ran into Grass Springs on time, and Tom left the train, though not without saying a parting word to me. I wanted him to “fire” with me, and I had a plan in my mind to bring it about; but while the president of the road was bottling up his spite against me, I could hardly hope to gain my point.

The steamer for Hitaca was advertised to leave Middleport at eleven o’clock, and at the appointed hour I had the passengers on the wharf. Within a few moments of the time, the boat was off, and those who were bound to Centreport made the passage in an hour and a quarter from Ucayga, which was three quarters of an hour less than they had ever accomplished it before. Major Toppleton was more delighted than ever, and, though it was against the rules of the road for any one to ride on the engine, he jumped upon the foot-board as lively as though he had been a boy. I ran up to the engine-house.

“It works splendidly, Wolf!” said the great man, rubbing his hands.

“It has come out right this time; but I think it is making rather close calculations,” I replied, as we walked out of the building.

“What do you mean, Wolf?” he asked, anxiously, as though he feared there was still room for the great enterprise to fail, as indeed there was if Lewis Holgate continued on the engine with me.

“We have hardly five minutes to spare now, and the slightest accident might cause us to miss our connections.”

“But with me the battle is to make the time to Ucayga inside of an hour. If it is more than an hour, it will sound bad, and we might just as well be an hour and a half as an hour and a quarter. I thought it was done handsomely this trip.”

“Perhaps it was, sir; but I was five minutes behind time when we reached Spangleport, and if I had not run at the rate of a mile in a minute and a half we should have missed the trains. Then the child on the track threw me back two minutes more, and compelled me to run the engine at its highest speed. The iron on the track is not heavy enough for such high rates.”

“But why were you five minutes late at Spangleport?” asked the major.

Should I tell him why? It might endanger my place to bring a charge against Tommy; but I felt myself independent enough to do so.

“My fireman did not do his duty. I have been obliged to run the engine and fire too,” I replied, explaining all that Lewis had done.

“What, Holgate! Discharge him then, at once,” said the great man, impatiently.

“I am afraid that will not be so easy a matter,” I added, with a smile.

“I think it will.”

“Lewis does not act altogether on his own account, though he wants my place.”

“Turn him off. Don’t let him run another trip.”

“I am sorry to say, sir, that Tommy is at the bottom of the mischief.”

“Tommy?”

“Yes, sir.”

I told him that Tommy had been working against me since the affair at the Horse Shoe; that he was trying to undermine me. The major was incredulous. Tommy was obstinate, he knew, but the president would not do anything to injure the Lake Shore Railroad. He was willing to believe that Lewis Holgate wished to get me out of my place, but not that his son was a party to the conspiracy.

“Lewis left the engine while we were waiting for the boat at Ucayga, and I should not have had steam enough to start the train if I had not shovelled in the coal myself. He did not even oil up, as he should have done, and as I told him to do,” I continued.

“Discharge him, then.”

“But all this time he was talking with Tommy; and you may be sure that your son will not permit him to be discharged.”

Major Toppleton bit his lips. He was beginning to comprehend the situation. He was actually afraid to carry his purpose into execution now, and, as I expected he would when the pinch came, he changed the subject of conversation, and said no more about getting rid of Lewis Holgate.

“I think, if we could save the two stops at Spangleport and Grass Springs, I could make the time without difficulty, even if we lost a few moments on the way,” I suggested, as the entering wedge of the plan I had formed.

“But we can’t neglect those two places. The people would tear up the rails if we failed to accommodate them.”

“We will not neglect them. I suggest that you run the dummy half an hour before the Lightning Express for way passengers.”

I explained fully my plan, and he was willing to adopt it, especially when I added that Lewis Holgate could handle the dummy very well indeed. He understood me then, and I thought I could see a smile of relief on his face.

“But you must have a fireman,” he added.

“Yes, sir; and I would like to have Tom Walton. He is a faithful fellow, and learns quick.”

“Engage him then at once. Who is the superintendent now?”

“Wetherstane, sir.”

He knew very well who the superintendent was, and knew also that he was one of the president’s most bitter opponents. Wetherstane would discharge any one whom Tommy did like, or hire any one whom he did not like, without any scruples, and enjoy the operation. When the session of the Institute closed, the superintendent was waited upon by the major. I do not know what passed between them; but the next day posters in all the places on the line announced the new arrangement. Tom Walton was engaged.

In the afternoon I ran the Lightning Express through the second time. Tommy was not on the engine this time, and by closely watching my fireman, I compelled him to do his duty; but without this care on my part, we should have failed in our connections. The next day, the last that Lewis was to run with me, for the new arrangement was to take effect on Wednesday morning, I found that the tender tanks were empty just as the engine was to move down to the station for the train. They had been filled an hour before, and I was satisfied this was another trick to bring me into disgrace. If I had not discovered the fact in season to correct the mischief, the trip would have been lost, to say nothing of a worse calamity, if anything could be worse in the estimation of the major.

The pit under the track where the engine stood was half filled with water, and it was evident enough to me that my rascally fireman had uncoupled the connecting hose while I was at dinner, and emptied the tanks in this manner. I was provoked, and disposed to pitch into the rascal. But this was his last chance, I thought, and I concluded to hold my peace. The scoundrel had probably drawn off more of the water than he intended, or I might not have discovered the condition of the tender in season to fill it. But the train started on time, and I was fortunate enough to make the connection at Ucayga.

I had Tom Walton’s appointment in my pocket, and when we stopped at the Springs I gave it to him, telling him to be at Middleport the next morning. This sharp movement had been prudently kept from the president, and I hoped, as he would be in school when the train started, that he would not ascertain what had been done until my friend had made one or two trips.

The next morning, at half past eight, Lewis Holgate started the dummy for Ucayga. He was very curious to know what I was going to do for a fireman; but I kept Tom in the shade till he was on the way to the foot of the lake. There was to be an awful row soon; but I was willing to postpone it as long as possible. My friend was faithful and intelligent, and before the train reached Ucayga, he comprehended his duties. I made my time without hurrying on this occasion.

In the afternoon, just as the Lightning Express was to start on her second trip, Tommy rushed up to the engine, looking as furious as a lunatic. At Ucayga, where the dummy waited till the express train had started, Lewis Holgate discovered who his successor was. That Tom was a friend of mine was enough to bring down upon him the wrath of the president. With such an assistant, I was not likely to permit the Lightning Express to be a failure.

“What are you doing on that engine?” demanded Tommy.

“I fire on this engine now,” replied Tom Walton, good-naturedly.

“No, you don’t! not while I am president of the Lake Shore Railroad. Get off, and clear out!”

“If he leaves, I do,” I interposed, quietly; but my blood was up.

Tommy looked at me, and ground his teeth with rage.