Scarcely a mile separated the group from the wrecked bridge. This distance was rapidly lessened by the swift iron monster.
"Hurry, now, Francois!" shouted Jimmie, again applying the muffler to deaden the sound of the Grey Eagle's motors. "Tell him!"
Francois' shouts were plainly heard by the engine driver, but he evidently mistook them for some friendly greeting, for he smiled and waved his hand, as if congratulating the boys on their skill.
Ned was frantic. He waved his arms and pointed down the track. Again the engineer responded with a wave of his hand. Seemingly he thought the boys were inviting him to a race, and was waving his acceptance.
"You big mud-head!" yelled Jimmie, at the top of his lungs. "Can't you get anything through that chunk of ivory? Shut her off!"
This sally was, of course, not intelligible to the engine driver, who could not be expected to understand English. The boy's manner, however, appeared to convey a meaning different from that of his companions. A change came over the face of the driver. He glanced down the track.
"Shut her off! Shut her off!" yelled Jimmie, again swinging one hand in the well-known horizontal sweep known to all railroad men in this country, indicating "Stop." Again and again Jimmie repeated the sign.
Ned, Harry and Jack, catching the inspiration of Jimmie's energetic action, joined in making the same signal. This concerted effort on the part of the boys evidently conveyed to the engine driver the thought that something was wrong. He looked questioningly at the lads.
"Shut her off!" again yelled Jimmie, desperately shaking his fist at the driver. "If I ever get hold of you, I'll punch your dome!"