LOCOMOTIVE VERSUS AEROPLANE.
DACRES had overestimated the advantage caused by the escort being barefooted. The men, unslinging their rifles, scaled the sun-dried bank with considerable agility and prepared to pour a volley into the fugitive locomotive. One thing only deterred them: they feared the presence of the dangerous contents of the trucks.
Still gathering speed the engine dashed across the bridge, greeted by an irregular and futile volley from the Valderian soldiers. Every shot either flew high above the cab or went wide.
The oscillation of the engine now began to be greatly in evidence. The speed soon mounted up to fifty miles an hour, practically a record for the La Paz railway. Dacres, still holding his revolver in readiness, was glad to lean back against a pile of coal and grasp a rail with his left hand; while his companion, standing behind the trembling fireman, kept looking anxiously through the square window in front of the cab.
The line, badly laid and maintained, caused the engine to swerve and jolt till at almost every instant it seemed as if it would leave the metals. Without a load the pace was exceedingly dangerous, till at Dacres' suggestion Henri gave orders for speed to be materially reduced.
Mile after mile sped by. Although the driver assured his captors that no other train was on the line between them and La Paz, Dacres had his doubts. He knew that the telegraph would soon be working, and utterly regardless of the lives of the engineer and driver, the railway authorities at La Paz would not hesitate to send a number of empty trucks down the long, gradual incline, or possibly tear up and portion off the track and derail the captured engine.
"Stop her!" ordered Dacres, an inspiration flashing across his mind, and his companion communicated the order to the driver, who seemed only too glad to obey.
With a heavy grinding of brakes the engine was brought to a standstill. The two Valderians, wondering what was going to happen, cowered in front of their resolute kidnappers.
During the run Dacres' sharp eyes had caught sight of a magazine-rifle of an American pattern stowed away inside the cab. Evidently the lot of an engineer on the republic of Valderia government railways was not a happy one, since he had to be provided with a rifle to defend the train from robbers and "express agents."
Seizing the weapon Dacres jerked back the bolt. A loaded cartridge falling out and another appearing ready to be thrust into the breech, told him that the magazine was charged.