Yes, I would risk it! The train came to a standstill. The delay would hardly be a long one, for it was only a cross-roads station. I would have to work with lightning-like rapidity. About midway the boiler was an opening in the machinery, barely large enough to admit the passage of a man. Squeezing through this opening, I dropped upon the cross-ties under the engine. On all-fours I made my way along the track to the front axle of the engine, which I passed under. I had now reached the cow-catcher, but my trouble had been for naught. For some unexplainable reason the space under the cow-catcher had been nailed full of cross-beams, thus effectually barring further progress.
Now, fully realizing the danger of my position, a sudden fear assailed me, and I began trembling from head to foot.
It had required scarcely thirty seconds to make the discovery, and within the same minute I had turned and was again squeezing under the terrible looking axle.
Clang! clang! sounded the engine bell.
Considerably bruised about the hands and knees, I reached the opening just as the engine pushed off.
Securing a firm grip upon a piece of machinery above the opening, and taking a step forward with the slowly moving engine, I drew myself up to safety.
About 8 a. m. we reached Chipley, Fla.
Here the station agent saw me, and I was pulled down. I was greasy and black, and my clothes were torn, but no limbs were missing.
The conductor, agent and others came hurrying to the engine to see the man who had dared hobo under the boiler.