The Road | Page 9

is no door, or the door is locked. No
conductor or brakeman can get to him to collect fare or throw him off.
It is clear that the tramp is safe until the next time the train stops. Then
he must get off, run ahead in the darkness, and when the train pulls by,
jump on to the blind again. But there are ways and ways, as you shall
see.
When the train pulled out, those twenty tramps swarmed upon the three
blinds. Some climbed on before the train had run a car-length. They
were awkward dubs, and I saw their speedy finish. Of course, the
train-crew was "on," and at the first stop the trouble began. I jumped
off and ran forward along the track. I noticed that I was accompanied
by a number of the tramps. They evidently knew their business. When
one is beating an overland, he must always keep well ahead of the train
at the stops. I ran ahead, and as I ran, one by one those that
accompanied me dropped out. This dropping out was the measure of
their skill and nerve in boarding a train.
For this is the way it works. When the train starts, the shack rides out
the blind. There is no way for him to get back into the train proper
except by jumping off the blind and catching a platform where the car
ends are not "blind." When the train is going as fast as the shack cares
to risk, he therefore jumps off the blind, lets several cars go by, and
gets on to the train. So it is up to the tramp to run so far ahead that
before the blind is opposite him the shack will have already vacated it.
I dropped the last tramp by about fifty feet, and waited. The train
started. I saw the lantern of the shack on the first blind. He was riding
her out. And I saw the dubs stand forlornly by the track as the blind
went by. They made no attempt to get on. They were beaten by their
own inefficiency at the very start. After them, in the line-up, came the
tramps that knew a little something about the game. They let the first
blind, occupied by the shack, go by, and jumped on the second and
third blinds. Of course, the shack jumped off the first and on to the

second as it went by, and scrambled around there, throwing off the men
who had boarded it. But the point is that I was so far ahead that when
the first blind came opposite me, the shack had already left it and was
tangled up with the tramps on the second blind. A half dozen of the
more skilful tramps, who had run far enough ahead, made the first blind,
too.
At the next stop, as we ran forward along the track, I counted but
fifteen of us. Five had been ditched. The weeding-out process had
begun nobly, and it continued station by station. Now we were fourteen,
now twelve, now eleven, now nine, now eight. It reminded me of the
ten little niggers of the nursery rhyme. I was resolved that I should be
the last little nigger of all. And why not? Was I not blessed with
strength, agility, and youth? (I was eighteen, and in perfect condition.)
And didn't I have my "nerve" with me? And furthermore, was I not a
tramp-royal? Were not these other tramps mere dubs and "gay-cats"
and amateurs alongside of me? If I weren't the last little nigger, I might
as well quit the game and get a job on an alfalfa farm somewhere.
By the time our number had been reduced to four, the whole train-crew
had become interested. From then on it was a contest of skill and wits,
with the odds in favor of the crew. One by one the three other survivors
turned up missing, until I alone remained. My, but I was proud of
myself! No Croesus was ever prouder of his first million. I was holding
her down in spite of two brakemen, a conductor, a fireman, and an
engineer.
And here are a few samples of the way I held her down. Out ahead, in
the darkness, -- so far ahead that the shack riding out the blind must
perforce get off before it reaches me, -- I get on. Very well. I am good
for another station. When that station is reached, I dart ahead again to
repeat the manoeuvre. The train pulls out. I watch her coming. There is
no light of a lantern on the blind. Has the crew abandoned the fight? I
do not know. One never knows, and one must be prepared every
moment for anything.