As they drew up at Cass Station Andrews jumped from the engine. The old man who had charge of the wood and water came out to meet him.
"I'm running a special ammunition train to Beauregard and I have to have fuel," he said. "Tom, call the boys from the box-car and get them to work."
Tom raced back to the car and opened the door. "Give a hand on this wood," he shouted. They streamed out after him, and attacked the wood pile. Knight and Brown filled the tanks with water. Before the old station agent knew what had struck his little place, the General was steaming off up the road.
"We're a little ahead of time for Kingston," said Andrews anxiously. He peered ahead toward the town, and announced presently, "The freight isn't in. We'll have to wait. Let me do all the talking, boys, when we're in there. I don't like the looks of this. Run a few hundred yards up beyond the station, Knight. I'll jump off and have the switch thrown, and then you can back in on the side-track."
They coasted slowly into Kingston, and passed the station. Andrews jumped off. Tom, hanging out from the cab, saw him talking with the switchman. The latter threw the switch and waved.
"All right," said Tom. "Let her go back." Knight reversed the engine, and they cleared the track for the freight. Andrews swung aboard.
The station agent came running toward them. "What's this?" he demanded.
"What's this train? Who are you?"
"I'm running this train on government authority," answered Andrews calmly. "I'm rushing ammunition to Beauregard." He waved toward the box-cars. Then he demanded sternly: "Why isn't that local freight here?"
The agent was subdued. "It ought to be along any minute, sir," he answered.
"Is there a passenger train behind you, sir?"
"I suppose so," answered Andrews indifferently. "This engine was supposed to haul the regular train, but we had to take it for this work. Powder is more important than passengers these days. They were fitting out another passenger train at Atlanta when we left."