Jack the Runaway by Frank V. Webster - HTML preview

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CHAPTER IX
 
JACK LOSES SOMETHING

“WELL, things are certainly happening to me,” mused Jack, as he tried to find the softest board in the floor of the freight car, whereon to sit. He finally decided that his dress-suit case would make the best kind of a stool, and, turning it upon end, he sat on it, leaning back against the side of the “Pullman.”

“Two days ago I would no more have thought I’d be in this position than I would of trying to fly. Yet here I am, I’ve run away from the professor, there’s a reward for my arrest, I have just escaped in time, and now I’m bound for I don’t know where. Things are certainly happening to me. Let’s see; that tramp said this train was going east. I don’t suppose it makes much difference to me, but I almost wish it was going west. I’d like to find out what’s become of my folks, and the nearer I get to California, the better chance I have of hearing news from China. I think, after I get far enough away so there’s no danger of me being arrested, I’ll strike out for San Francisco. When I get there I may have a chance to work my passage to China.”

This thought comforted Jack somewhat. As he sat in the dark car, going over in his mind what had happened in the last twenty-four hours, he was suddenly nearly thrown to the floor as the vehicle gave a lurch, following a loud crash. Another car had bumped into the one in which Jack was.

“They’re making up the train,” he said, as he heard the engine whistle. “We’ll be moving pretty soon.”

He went to the door and peered out of the small opening the tramp had left. He could see brakemen running to and fro in the freight yard, while men in greasy blue suits, carrying flaming torches, for it was now getting dark, made hasty examinations of the running gear and trucks of the cars, so that any breaks might be detected before the train started, while journal boxes, in which rest the wheel axles, that had not a sufficient amount of waste and oil, were filled, so that the axles would not get hot, producing what is known in railroad terms as a “hot box.”

Then came more signals from the locomotive. Jack heard men shouting out orders. Next came two short, sharp blasts from the whistle.

“That means we’re going to start,” thought the boy, and, a moment later, with many a squeak and shrill protest from the wheels, the freight train was under way.

Jack soon discovered that riding in a “side-door Pullman” was not very comfortable. The freight car was not as well provided with springs as even an ordinary day coach, and as it went bumping along over the rails, he was jostled about considerably.

“Guess if I got in a corner and braced myself, I could ride easier,” he thought, and, carrying his suit case there, he made himself as comfortable as possible.

“This is better,” he remarked to himself. “Guess I’ll eat now, though I must save some food for breakfast. But what am I going to drink? I never thought of that.”

There was no solution of that problem, and Jack was forced to make a very dry meal on about half of what remained of the food he had brought from the professor’s pantry. In a little while he was more thirsty than before.

“I don’t know how I’m going to stand it,” he said ruefully. “I’ll choke pretty soon. I’d ought to have brought a bottle of soda water along. I’ll know better next time. I can’t get out now. The train’s going too fast.”

The car was swaying from side to side, and to jump from it was out of the question. There was nothing to do but stand it.

“I’ll get out at the first stop,” thought Jack, but he did not know that he was on a through freight, which made but few stops.

Soon, in spite of his thirst, Jack felt sleepy. He was very tired, and the monotonous sound of the wheels clicking over the rail joints produced a sort of hypnotic effect. Before he knew it, he was slumbering, having slipped down from his dress-suit case, to lie at full length on the hard floor of the car, his head pillowed on the valise and his bundled-up coat.

When Jack awoke with a start, some hours later, he saw by the daylight streaming in through the partly opened door of the car, that it was morning. He got up, feeling lame and stiff, and, for a moment, he could scarcely remember where he was.

“Well,” he remarked, with a grim smile, as he donned his coat, “the conductor didn’t take up my ticket, and the porter hasn’t blacked my shoes, but I guess I’ll have to let it go. I expect I need a good brushing down, too.

“I wonder whereabouts I am,” he went on. “Guess I’ll take a look. I want to get off as soon as I can. My, but I’m dry! My tongue’s like a piece of leather!”

He picked up his suit case and went to the side door. He caught a glimpse of green fields through which the train was moving.

Setting the case down in front of the door, Jack put his hands in the crack, to make it wider, in order that he might see better. The door stuck a little, and he had to use considerable strength to shove it, but he finally found it was giving.

He had one glimpse of a broad sweep of pretty country, with a range of low mountains in the distance, and then something happened.

The train gave a sudden swerve as it went around a sharp curve. The abrupt change in motion nearly threw Jack from the car, but, instinctively, he clung to the edge of the door with all his strength.

Just then the train thundered over a bridge spanning a small river. The car rocked and swayed with the motion imparted to it by the curve, and then, before Jack could put out a hand to catch it, his dress-suit case toppled over and slid out of the open door, falling down into the river. Jack could see the splash it made, as it disappeared beneath the water, and then, as the train rolled on, the rumbling caused by passing over the bridge was changed to a duller sound, as solid ground was reached.

“My suit case!” exclaimed Jack, leaning from the door and looking back. “I can’t afford to lose that! I must get it. Maybe it’ll float, and perhaps the river isn’t very deep. I must get out at the next stop and go back after it. But will the train stop anywhere near here?”

Anxiously he noted the speed. It did seem as if the cars were not going quite so fast now.

“If they slow up a little more, I’ll risk it and jump,” said the boy. “I’ve got to get that suit case!”