Part 11 (2/2)
”You bet!”
Breakfast finished, they left the hotel and went toward the station. Tom looked anxiously at the sky, and saw that the clouds were broken. They had a chance, at least, of good weather for the raid. At the station they bought tickets for Kingston. There were about thirty people moving restlessly about in the dark, waiting for the train. Tom recognized Andrews and five of their men. Then the remainder appeared suddenly. Andrews paced up and down, his head slightly bowed.
The whistle of the train came shrieking through the night. Tom's throat tightened and his heart thumped. Presently they could hear the engine, and see the sparks above the trees. Then the train came sweeping down the track towards them, the wheels rumbling and the brakes whining. The engine, with its name, General, painted upon the side of the cab, pa.s.sed them.
Tom's eyes followed the engine. He saw the engineer in the light of the flames from the firebox; the fireman was in the act of sliding fresh logs upon the flames.
Several pa.s.sengers stepped from the train. Andrews boarded the second coach, and the men followed him, distributing themselves through the car. Ahead of them were four freight cars and another coach. Brown and Tom found a seat not far from Andrews; Wilson and Knight settled themselves across the aisle. Tom glanced back and saw the others scattered through the car. His eyes met Shadrack's and, mindful of Andrews' warning, he turned away before he laughed outright. Shadrack's expression was comical: his eyes were wide and he was gazing about him apprehensively, yet still with that twinkle of amus.e.m.e.nt.
”'Board-'board,” cried the conductor.
Tom could hear the rapid puffing of the engine as the wheels slipped on the wet rails; then the puffing became more laborious. There was a rattle of loose couplings, and the train jerked forward. It was lighter now. To the west, the Kennesaw Mountains made a splotch of black against the dark blue sky, and the houses and woods along the track were visible in the half light.
The train gathered speed, then settled down to a steady pace. The smoke from the engine drifted back to them. The forward door of the car opened and the conductor entered. He stood for a moment looking down the length of the car, then commenced to take tickets, scrutinizing each pa.s.senger closely. The conductor was a young man-about twenty-six-and the men of Andrews' party found his gaze disturbing. Tom met his eyes, and wondered if he knew anything of their purpose, suspected anything.
”I don't like the looks of that conductor,” he whispered to Brown.
”Probably wondering why so many people got aboard at Marietta.”
Andrews arose, as though to stretch, but Tom could see that he was watching the conductor. At last they heard the rear door of the car slam. The conductor had not stopped to ask questions, regardless of what he suspected.
”Big Shanty! Big Shanty! Twenty minutes for breakfast.” It was like a bugle call to Andrews' men. Their eyes were turned toward him. He sat as though he were sleeping. The other pa.s.sengers stirred in their seats, making ready to race to the restaurant.
The speed of the train slackened, and the train glided into the town. Bordering the tracks on the west was an encampment of Confederate soldiers. Rows of white tents stretched down the slope towards a thick woods. On the east were the houses of Big Shanty. The train stopped opposite a long shed, before which a man stood ringing a bell. There was no need to call the pa.s.sengers to breakfast; they tumbled off the train and ran to get places at the counter. And at the head of the crowd was the conductor. The engineer and fireman brought up the rear, wiping their hands on pieces of waste. Except for three pa.s.sengers who were sleeping, Andrews' men had the car to themselves.
It was several minutes before Andrews showed any signs of stirring. Then he arose and walked to the rear of the car.
”Not yet,” he said, as he pa.s.sed Tom. Presently they saw him strolling beside the train. Then he boarded the front platform, opened the door and nodded. They got up and went out.
”Ross, you come with me,” said Andrews. ”Brown, Knight, and Burns follow.
The rest go up the other side of the engine.”
Andrews and Boss walked slowly towards the engine.
”Uncouple here, Ross,” ordered Andrews. ”Then cross over and get aboard with the rest.” His tone was calm and untroubled.
Tom saw Ross pull the coupling pin, and duck under the train. He glanced back to the shed where the train crew was at breakfast. There was no sign of alarm.
They approached the engine as indifferently as though they were walking for exercise.
”Wait here,” said Andrews when they were beside the engine cab. He went forward, crossed in front of the train and looked back on the other side to see if the men were aboard. Then he came sauntering back.
”Get aboard!” he snapped. ”Knight at the throttle.”
Knight mounted first; then Brown, with Tom and Andrews following. Knight jumped to the engineer's seat, and grabbed the throttle. There came the hissing of steam: the engine trembled and puffed. Brown lunged for the sand lever, yanked it open. The wheels spun on the track, then grabbed it, and the engine sprang forward like a beast unchained.
CHAPTER NINE
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