"Telegraph Chattanooga train stolen by Yanks. Am in pursuit."
The station agent ran to his office, but it was too late to get the message through; Andrews' men had already torn the line down.
The engine which Fuller now had was smaller and slower than the Yonah. The engineer, upon entering Kingston, had allowed the steam pressure to sink, and they crawled slowly from the station. Five minutes later they came to the break in the telegraph lines, and Fuller knew that his message to Chattanooga had not gone through. They worked feverishly at the engine, but the steam pressure rose slowly. It was that fact which saved them from a wreck when they came to the spot where Andrews' men had torn up the rail. There was ample time to reverse the engine and bring it to a stop.
Without spikes and tools it was hopeless to think of bridging the gap. They stood gazing ruefully at the break.
"We're done!" muttered Murphy.
"No, we're not," answered Fuller. "Come on!" And he started running up the track. The others, nearly exhausted by the pace he had led them, followed on their third foot race after the stolen train.
This broken rail, which so nearly blocked the course of his pursuers, was Andrews' greatest mistake. If he had left the way clear for Fuller, sending the southbound freight against him from Adairsville, a collision would have been inevitable. As it was, Fuller and his men, running towards Adairsville, heard the approaching train in plenty of time to stop it. Once again, scarcely fifteen minutes after deserting one locomotive, they were aboard another, the Texas.
It took but a minute to explain to the engineer what had happened. The engine, thrown into reverse, pushed back to Adairsville, with Fuller, mounted on the end box-car, controlling the train by signals. South of the station they stopped, while Fuller jumped from the train and pulled open the switch to the side-track. Murphy uncoupled the train at the engine. Again they started back, this time shunting the train to the siding and allowing it to run on its own momentum. When the wheels of the last car passed, with a gap of a few yards between the car and the engine, Fuller threw the switch and leaped for the cab. Murphy caught his arms and pulled him aboard. The Texas plunged backward down the track, racing the cast-off train as it rolled upon the siding. For a moment it seemed that they would collide at the north switch where the side-track re-entered the main line. Fuller, leaning from the cab, glanced apprehensively at the engineer. He had the throttle opened wide and the Texas was gaining speed at every turn of her wheels. The station agent was on the platform, waving his arms and yelling. Ahead of them, the leading freight car lurched as it struck the bend of the side-track; then the Texas rattled over the switch and out of danger—with two yards to spare.
Behind them, the freight car struck the closed switch, jumped it, ran off the track and turned over. The force of the cars shoved it over the ground: the second car crashed on its side.
Fuller glanced back indifferently at the wreck they had left behind them.
"Keep her open wide!" he yelled, and the engineer nodded.