Part 51 (1/2)
This Sat.u.r.day night Alex and Jack, borrowing Winchesters from other members of the telegraph-car party, had set out for a ”couple of good rugs,” as they put it, and on leaving the train had headed east, toward the aqueduct, in which direction they had heard barks of the midnight prowlers.
They had gone perhaps three miles, and had fired on several of the wily animals, without success, when suddenly Jack caught Alex by the arm and pointed away to the east.
”Look, Al! What's that?”
”Why, it looks like--It is! It's a signal light!
”And calling us--KX!” cried Alex. ”Something must be wrong with Wilson!”
”What'll we do? Back to the train?”
”Have you a match and some paper?” said Alex, going hurriedly through his own pockets.
”Some matches.”
”Here's a couple of letters. Come on back to the rails, find some chips, and make a fire. See if we can't answer him, and learn what the trouble is.”
They were already racing for the track, reached it, and quickly gathering together a little pile of dry bark and chips knocked from the ties, made a fire at the track-side, and lit it.
As the flames burst up Alex threw off his coat, and using it as a curtain, raised and lowered it in a flashed ”I, I, KX!”
The call twinkled on. Wilson had not seen it. But the next moment, before Alex had completed a second answer, the red light disappeared. Alex again shot forth the gleaming ”I, I, KX!” and in blinking response they read:
”Chased out of station. Two men. Wire cut. Something wrong. Help!--V.”
”OK. But we are three miles from the train. Hunting. Will we come, or go back for help?” signalled Alex.
There was a pause, and the red light blinked, ”Come! Quick!”
”OK. Coming.” Only pausing to stamp out the fire, the two boys were away at a run, heading directly for the light, which at intervals Wilson continued to show, as a guide.
Their open-air experience of a month had put the two boys in the best of condition, and keeping on at a smart pace, within half an hour the light showed just ahead, and a few minutes after Wilson ran forward to greet them.
”I don't know what's in the air, but certainly something,” he announced.
”As you fellows are armed too, suppose we go back and get the two men in the station car, and see if we can't make them tell?” he suggested.
”Lead ahead,” agreed the others.
Stealthily they made their way amid the intervening cars, and emerged opposite the little depot.
In the window was the shadow of a man smoking.
They stole across to the door, and Wilson, leading, cautiously glanced within. He turned and held up one finger. Revolver in hand, he tiptoed up the steps, and with a cry sprang inside and toward the man in the chair.
The intruder was so taken by surprise that he tumbled over backward. In a jiffy the three boys were upon him, and had pinned him to the floor; and while Alex closely clutched his mouth, to prevent him calling out, the others speedily bound his hands and feet with some convenient pieces of wire.
Satisfied that their prisoner was firmly secured, and having removed his pistol and cartridge-belt, the boys replaced him in the chair, and Wilson, pointing his revolver at the man's head, demanded, ”Where is your pard? And what are you and he up to?”
There was a look of amus.e.m.e.nt in the man's face as Alex removed his hand, and he replied, ”Nothin' doin', boys. You'll have to guess.”
”I'll give you three, to tell,” said Wilson, a.s.suming a fierce expression and beginning to count.