Part 28 (1/2)

The Holdup The train slid around a far-off bend, its chimney chugging out black smoke that hung above the whole train, thick near the front, spreading out some over the freight and pa.s.senger cars, rising higher and thinning out behind the caboose. In the distance as it was, the whole string seemed to be moving rather slow and quiet.

It got quicker and noisier, the nearer it came.

Pretty soon, the ground took to shaking under my feet.

I stayed between the rails and waved my arms. Well, the whistle howled and howled like it was shouting at me to get out of the way. The engineer, he leaned out his window and flapped an arm at me. Yelled, too, but I couldn't hear him.

The train kept on thundering closer and tooting.

Then it screeched. Steam hissed and spit from the locomotive, throwing out white clouds down low to the tracks. Sparks sprayed up from the wheels as they skidded over the rails.

I could see it wouldn't stop in time to miss me, so I jumped clear. Not a second later, the sun was blocked out by the great engine. I covered my ears to save them from the awful noise. Things got hot for my legs, but it didn't hurt too much. All wheezes and squeals, the train slowed to a halt.

I'd done it!

The engineer and fireman both jumped down. They came striding back past the coal car. They didn't look any too pleased.

”You hoping for an early grave, son?” the engineer asked. He was an older fellow dressed in overalls and a tall, striped hat.

The other fellow, the fireman, didn't say a thing. He stood in front of me with his fists planted on his hips, scowling. He was red and dripping sweat. He had more muscles than any man I'd ever seen before. His face had muscles.

”I'm afraid I fell from a train last night,” I said.

”You fell fell?”

The fireman shook his head. His eyes were squinted so narrow I wondered how he could see with them.

”Actually, a bloke picked me up and tossed tossed me.” me.”

The fireman grinned.

If I'd had any notion to warn these fellows they were on their way to a stickup, I lost it when I saw that grin.

”My fare was paid all the way to El Paso,” I explained. ”I should be most grateful for a ride.”

The engineer rubbed his chin and looked at my feet.

”Please, sir.”

After letting out a sigh, he said, ”I s'pose we can give you a ride to the next station, anyhow. Seeing as how we've already gone and stopped. I had half a mind to keep moving, but you looked so set on flagging us down, I suspicioned the bridge might be out. How's the bridge?”

”I shouldn't say that it's out. However, it did seem rather rickety. You'd be well advised to proceed with care.”

I heard somebody huffing up behind me, and turned around. It was the conductor, a little fellow, holding his cap down tight as if to keep the wind from stealing it. There wasn't any wind, but he didn't let the lack of it interfere. The gold chain of a watch swayed across the front of his waistcoat. One side of his jacket was swept back behind the revolver holstered on his right hip.

”What have we here?” he asked, giving me the eye.

”Take him on back with you,” the engineer said. ”He claims he got chucked from the southbound last night.”

”Natty attire,” said the conductor.

”Hurry,” the engineer said. ”We're losing time.”

With a crook of his finger, the conductor gestured for me to follow him. ”I'm much obliged,” I called to the other two, then hurried after the little man.

We were still walking along the right of way when the whistle blasted. A wave of rattles and clanks came running down from the front. The pa.s.senger car beside us jumped forward with a lurch. Then the one behind it did the same. Pretty soon, the whole string was creeping along.

The conductor stepped a bit closer to the tracks. We stopped and waited while the train picked up more and more speed. It still wasn't going particularly fast, though, when the caboose rolled by.

The conductor almost let it pa.s.s, then caught a handle and hopped onto the steps of the rear platform. As he scooted up, I grabbed hold and swung myself aboard.

We entered the caboose.

”Take a seat,” he said. I pulled a chair away from the cluttered desk, but he snapped, ”Not there. What's the matter with you?” Then he pointed me to a bench across from a potbelly stove.

I sat down on it. ”I'm much obliged for the ride,” I told him.

”Ain't my doing. I got work to do, so keep your mouth shut.”

”Yes, sir,” I said.

He sat at the desk and started working on some papers. And near fell out of his chair when all of a sudden the train braked. ”What in the nation!”

Glaring at me like it was my fault, he popped to his feet.

I shrugged, all innocent.

”What's going on?”

”I've no idea, really.”

Well, he rushed over to a window and poked his head out. Then he cried, ”d.a.m.n!” He shoved back from the window, s.n.a.t.c.hed out his six-gun, and pointed it at me. ”You dirty b.a.s.t.a.r.d, you tricked us!”

”Don't shoot! Please! I'm not one of them.”

Some guns went off. The conductor, his eyes almost jumped out of his head. I've never seen a fellow so red in the face.

He thumbed back the hammer and let it drop.

I judged I was dead.

The hammer landed with just a clank, not a blast. I didn't wait for him to try again, but leaped off the bench and struck his gun hand. Not a moment too soon. I hadn't more than whacked it when he got off a shot. The noise slapped my ears, but the bullet missed me. I threw a punch into his belly. His air whooshed out, and he tumbled back against a wall. Slammed it pretty hard.

I twisted his hand till he dropped the gun, then used both my fists to lay into him. He didn't seem to have much fight left, but I was sore. I kept on pounding him. ”I'm not not with them,” I shouted while I punched. ”I with them,” I shouted while I punched. ”I told told you that! d.a.m.n your b.l.o.o.d.y eyes!” Punch punch punch. ”And yet you tried to you that! d.a.m.n your b.l.o.o.d.y eyes!” Punch punch punch. ”And yet you tried to shoot shoot me!” Punch punch punch. ”You'd no reason to me!” Punch punch punch. ”You'd no reason to do do that!” that!”

I went on railing at him and hitting him. But pretty soon I realized he wasn't in any shape to appreciate my efforts. I stepped back away from him, and he slumped to the floor and didn't move.

I picked up his revolver and aimed it at him. I had half a notion to shoot him. After all, he'd done his best to kill me and it was only pure luck that he hadn't put a slug in my chest. But then I got hold of my temper.

I was in enough trouble without plugging a railroad conductor. He'd mistaken me for one of the robbers, and I reckoned I could expect the same judgment from the engineer and fireman.