“It isn’t much of a ‘scotch’,” Dick admitted. “But I guess it’s all right; the air-brakes’ll hold her.”
Larry shook his head.
“I don’t like it,” he repeated. “This grade is a lot steeper than it looks, and there’s nobody on that car with those women but the negro porter. Ten to one he wouldn’t know enough to pull the cord and reset the brakes if the car should start to run away.”
“Pshaw! it isn’t going to run away,” said Dick easily; and then, with another look up ahead: “Say! something’s gone wrong with that big passenger-puller!”
Something had gone wrong; very wrong, indeed. Brannigan had coupled to the empty flat-car and was pulling it out as gingerly as if he were running over eggs instead of a hurriedly placed construction side-track. But for all his care the light rail had buckled and turned over beneath the ponderous “Pacific-type,” and the big locomotive was on the ground.
Both boys saw the small accident from their place at the 717’s cab window, and, naturally, their first impulse was to swing down and run up the track to help with the reënrailment. But it was just then that a much more shocking accident began to stage itself right before their eyes. As they were in the act of dropping from the 717’s step, Larry grabbed Dick and pointed to the other siding.
“Look!” he yelled; “that Pullman’s getting away!”
There was no doubt about it. By some disastrous mischance the air-brakes had leaked and loosened their grip on the wheels; the inconsequent bit of wood that Brannigan’s fireman had thrust under a wheel had crushed to powder; and the heavy steel car with its human load was slipping away down the siding, gaining momentum as it went.
Now a runaway car on a crooked track, every mile of which is a down-grade, is about the deadliest thing that can ever happen on a mountain railroad. At sight of the moving Pullman the men of the excursion party, with Mr. Ackerman setting the pace, made a frantic dash to catch it. But they were too far away. And the two engine crews, busy with the derailed passenger machine, were still farther away.
“Oh, for pity’s sake!” Dick groaned. “There’s a split switch at the end of that siding—they’ll get out on the main line and get clear away, and everybody’ll be killed!”