But there did not appear to be any man in charge. The engineer and fireman were gone, and the watchman had been driven to cover by the foul weather.
We looked the iron horse over enviously.
“Why, this is the engine that came up with the special this noon,” said Fitzhugh. “I remember the number.”
“Good! We are ahead of the enemy, then. They haven't had a chance to get the wire, and we beat them on the road. We must find the engineer and get it ourselves.”
“I've got an idea,” said Fitzhugh. “It's this: why not take the machine without asking? I was a fireman once, and I can run it pretty well.”
I thought a moment on the risk, but the need was greater.
“Just the thing. Take the money for the horses to your friend there. I'll open the switch.”
In a few minutes Fitzhugh was back.
“I told him,” he chuckled. “He says it's a jail offense, but it's the only thing we can do.”
“It may be a case of life and death,” I said. “Pull out.”