Through the Air to the North Pole | Page 3

Roy Rockwood
all alone," the boy's voice trembled a bit, "I didn't know what to do. They wanted to send me to the poor-house, but I ran away. Then, after knocking about a bit, I got the job with the traction engine man, until he used me so I couldn't stand it."
"That's about my case," said Jack. "I had a brother, and he ran away before my folks died. I guess they felt bad about him. Anyhow, mother used to cry an awful lot. When I was left all alone I was taken care of by some poor folks, who kept me as long as they could. Then I had to shift for myself. I had a good many jobs, and then I thought I'd like to be a farmer. I was sent to a place but the man wasn't very kind. He whipped me because I made a mistake and pulled up an onion instead of a weed. Then he beat me because I gave the horse too many oats. He never told me how much to give. So I ran away, and I'm glad of it. I've been cold and hungry lots of times since, but I haven't been whipped."
"I guess that old constable would have licked us if he had the chance," put in Mark.
"No use worrying over that. He's a good many miles away now."
"Here! What are you boys doing there?" cried a voice.
Jack and Mark looked up, to see a brakeman gazing down at them from the top of a box car.
"We're taking a ride," answered Jack coolly.
"So I see," replied the brakeman. "Well, I guess it will come to an end right now. Hop off!"
"Are you the conductor?" asked Jack.
"No, of course not," said the wheel-twister.
"Then don't try to put us off," went on the boy, with an assumed haughty air. "Just send the conductor here to punch our tickets. We're traveling first class, and don't want to be disturbed any more than is necessary."
"Well, I like your nerve!" exclaimed the brakeman, climbing down. "Who are you, anyhow?"
The railroad man laughed. Then Jack smiled, for he knew he and his companion were safe. In a few words he told their stories, and the brakeman promised they might go as far as the train went.
"You boys are all right," said the brakeman. "I have two youngsters of my own at home, and I hope, if ever they get in a tight place, some one will help them. Can I do anything to fix you up?"
"Not unless you can lend us about one thousand dollars each," laughed Jack, and the brakeman joined in with him.
"Or tell us where we can get work," put in Mark, who seemed quite worried.
"I can't say for sure where you can get jobs," the brakeman said, "but if I was in your place I'd get off at the next town. The name of it is Millville, and there are lots of factories there. Maybe you can strike something. I'll speak to the conductor and have him ask the engineer to slow up so you can jump off."
"We'd be obliged if you would," Jack said. "We may be tramps for a while, but we're both anxious to get work, and maybe Millville will be just the place for us."
"We're coming into it now," the brakeman went on. "It's about a mile from here. I'll go back, and when you hear five whistles from the engine you'll know it's slowing up and you are to jump off. I know the conductor will do that if I ask him."
The brakeman climbed up the ladder on the end of the box car next to the gondola where the boys were, until he reached the run-boards on top. Then he hurried along to the caboose, where the conductor was.
"We must listen for the five whistles," said Jack. "Get ready to jump, Mark. Don't forget your baggage."
"No danger of that," chimed in the other, falling into the joyful mood of his companion, who never seemed to be cast down for long, no matter what happened.
The train was going down grade now, and the speed was much increased. Telegraph poles whizzed past at a rapid rate and the wheels sung a livelier tune as they clipped over the rail joints.
"It's a good thing the engineer is going to slow down for us," said Jack. "We'd never be able to jump off at the rate we're going."
"Hark!" exclaimed Mark. "There goes the whistle!"
The boys listened. A long, shrill blast cut the summer air, and vibrated back to them over the tops of the cars.
"That isn't five whistles; it's one!" cried Jack. "It's the call for brakes! I wonder if anything has happened to the train!"
There was a pause. Then came another single shriek from the engine's whistle. It sounded appealingly, as
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