Through the Air to the North Pole | Page 4

Roy Rockwood
if the steam monster was in distress.
"Look! Look!" shouted Mark. "We are going much faster than we were!"
At the same instant there was a crash and a jolting sound. The train seemed to break in two parts at about the centre. The forward section, drawn by the engine, went one way, and the other part, with the gondola containing the boys, in the lead, took another track. An insecurely fastened switch was responsible for the accident. The locomotive and nearly half the cars of the train took the main track, while the remainder of the outfit swung on to a siding.
The section of the train with the boys aboard had become a runaway freight!
"What has happened?" cried Mark.
"The train's broken in two!" shouted Jack. "Come on! Help twist the brakes!"
Both boys sprang to the wheel of the gondola. It was all they could do to give it a few turns, but they managed to make the brake-shoes grip the wheels to some degree, as was evidenced by the shrill shrieking.
"Can you climb up to the top of the box car?" asked Jack.
"Sure!" shouted Mark. "Go ahead!"
Though Mark was thin, he had a nervous strength almost equal to that of his stouter companion.
"We must set all the brakes we can!" Jack cried. "That's the only way to stop the runaway train!"
With their small arms they twisted the wheel on the box car. They got it as tight as they could, then ran along the top of the vehicle to the next one. About ten cars down they saw their friendly brakeman.
"That's the stuff, boys!" he shouted. "There'll be a smash-up if we don't stop the cars!"
He was twisting wheels with all his might. As fast as they could the two boys went from car to car, setting the brakes.
But in spite of their efforts, and the efforts of another brakeman besides the one they had spoken to, the speed of the runaway freight train increased. The grade was a steep one, and down the hill the uncontrolled cars rushed.
"I don't believe we're going to stop," said Jack.
"Shall we jump?" asked Mark.
"Not if you want to get a job in the mill or factory," replied Jack. "I reckon if you or I jumped that would be the last of us."
With a rush and a roar the train continued to speed along. The trees and telegraph poles whizzed past so quickly as to be almost invisible.
"I guess this is Millville," said Mark, as the runaway train passed a station, on several sides of which there were large buildings to be seen.
So fast was the runaway train going now that the boys had to lie down on their faces and cling to the run-boards on top of the box car to avoid being jolted off. The wind fairly whistled in their ears. Through the town they rushed, observing, as by a flash, the white, frightened face of the station agent as he watched them go past.
"Do you think there'll be a smash-up?" asked Mark.
"I don't see how it can be avoided," replied Jack. "This track has to come to an end somewhere. When it does, look out, that's all!"
On and on rushed the train! It's speed was now fearful, for the down grade had increased. It was of no avail to twist the brakes, for no strength would avail to slacken the awful speed. The boys, in common with the brakemen, could only cling and wait in terror for what was to come.
The cars swayed as they went around a curve. Jack lifted his head and peered forward.
"Hold fast!" he shouted. "We're going to strike something in a minute!"
He had looked up in time to see that the track siding came to an abrupt end about a quarter of a mile further on, the rails stopping in a sand bank.
Hardly had the boys time to take a tighter grip with their fingers on the boards to which they were clinging, when the whole string of freight cars seemed to crumple up like a collection of paper vehicles.
There was a grinding, sickening crash, a succession of heavy jolts, a piling up of one car on top of another, a splintering of wood, a rending of iron and steel, and then with one terrible smash, with one final roar, the runaway freight piled itself up in a mass of shattered cars against the sand hill, at the base of which the rails came to an end. It was a fearful wreck.
"Hold fast!" were the last words Jack cried to his companion. His voice sounded faint above the din.
"Where are you, Jack?" he heard Mark shout in reply.
Then all became dark, and the boys lost their senses as they were hurled into the splintered mass of wreckage.
CHAPTER III
A STRANGE RESCUER
"For de land sakes, Perfessor, hurry up! Heah's
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