CHAPTER XXIII.
CROSSING THE ALLEGHANIES.
So little “Prince Dusty,” by remembering what he had been taught, and having the common-sense to put it into practice, was able to prevent a terrible disaster. Some boys of his age would have been so frightened at finding themselves in a runaway car, plunging madly down a mountain-side, that they would have become panic-stricken and utterly powerless to help themselves or others. They would have, as people say, lost their heads; but Arthur was not one of the kind who lose their heads. He had been sensibly brought up by his practical father, and taught to face emergencies coolly and calmly. Young as he was, he had learned to stop and think “What is the best thing to be done?” and then to do it promptly to the very best of his ability. It does not take long to think. If the brain is clear and steady, a great many thoughts can flash through it in a second; and one moment thus spent is worth a lifetime of thoughtless action.
It would be absurd to claim that Arthur had not been frightened on this occasion. He had never been so frightened in his life, and it is to be hoped that he never will be again; but he was too brave a boy to allow his fright to obtain control of him. Now that the time for being cool and calm, and for prompt action, had passed, he felt weak and faint, and was very glad to be picked up and borne tenderly back to the caboose, in Conductor Tobin’s strong arms. There Uncle Phin was waiting to throw his arms about his “lil Marse,” and to “tank de good Lawd” for letting him be the brave, splendid boy that he was.
The runaway caboose was hauled up to where the rest of its train was waiting on the siding for it, and the “Keystone Express” followed slowly. Here it stopped for a few minutes, while its engineer and conductor, and the conductors of the sleeping-cars, all crowded into the caboose to see and shake hands with the boy who had saved their lives, and to thank him with trembling voices. They wanted Arthur and Uncle Phin and Rusty to go with them, and travel, surrounded by every comfort and luxury that their train could afford; but Arthur said he would rather stay where he was. This decision made Conductor Tobin and Brakeman Joe very happy, for they were so proud of their young “railroad man,” as they called him, that they could not bear the thought of parting with him.
So, with many a full-hearted “God bless you!” and “We’ll not forget you in a hurry,” the trainmen of the “Keystone Express” went back to their places, and it rolled away over the mountains, without its sleeping passengers being any the wiser for what had happened. Nor did they ever know of the danger they had escaped; for passengers on railway trains are never told, if it can be helped, of their narrow escapes from accidents. It might make them timid about riding in the cars.
Only one passenger knew. He was an elderly gentleman, who, unable to sleep, had been lying in a lower berth, gazing out into the darkness through his uncurtained window. He knew of the sudden and unusual stopping of the train, had seen the swinging lanterns, and had noticed the engineer and conductors of his own train crowding into the caboose of Freight No. 15. When the express was once more in motion, he called the porter of the sleeping-car, and made him tell all he knew of what had taken place.
When the story was finished, the elderly gentleman sighed regretfully, and said he wished he had known of it in time to go and see that boy for himself. He had no boys of his own, and had never cared much for them; but recent circumstances had caused him to change his mind, and long for one. He had even come to regard all boys with interest, and now wished he might have known the brave little fellow whose courage and promptness of action had, in all probability, saved his life.
After the express had passed on, and Freight No. 15 was again pounding heavily along over the steel rails, Conductor Tobin and Brakeman Joe sat by the little caboose stove and talked over the events of the past half hour. Arthur lay quietly on the blanket-covered bench, with Rusty curled up at his feet, and Uncle Phin, sitting close beside him, held one of his hands, as though fearful of losing him.
The two men told each other what a wonderful thing it was that these stowaways had chosen their particular train, and how thankful they were that they had not left them at Arden, as they at first intended. They could not tire of praising the boy for remembering what they had just taught him, and for being so ready to act upon it. They praised Uncle Phin, too, for his share of the night’s work, and even little Rusty was petted and praised for barking to wake Arthur when the caboose broke loose.
Brakeman Joe said that the boy was so evidently cut out for a railroad man that it would be a pity if he should ever try to become anything else. He even went so far as to offer Arthur and Uncle Phin a home with his old father, promising to teach the former all he knew of railroading, and to get him a place as water-boy on a passenger train.
Arthur gratefully declined this offer, and said he thought they had better keep on with their journey to the home in which he belonged. At the same time a genuine love for railroads and everything connected with them, even including their dangers, had entered his heart that night, and he determined that some day he would not only be a railroad man, but a famous one.
They had now passed the summit of the Alleghanies, and day was dawning. As the night mists rolled away, and the magnificent panorama of mountain, hill, and valley began to unfold beneath them, Arthur climbed up into the cupola to watch it. He had never witnessed so glorious a sunrise as that now flashed back by the clear waters of the Juniata, which laughed and rippled beside the track. As he drew in long breaths of the fresh mountain air and gazed on the marvellous beauty of the ever-widening landscape, the mere fact of being alive and able to enjoy it all filled him with happiness.
During the morning Freight No. 15 rumbled heavily across the Susquehanna River and into the beautiful old city of Harrisburg, the proud capital of one of the greatest and wealthiest States of the Union. Here it was turned over to a new crew of trainmen, while Conductor Tobin, Brakeman Joe, and the others who had brought it thus far were at liberty to seek their homes and a well-earned rest.
Conductor Tobin insisted upon taking our travellers home with him, and, though Brakeman Joe would gladly have had them as his guests, he was obliged to yield to the claims of his superior officer. So they all went to the neat little cottage, not far from the railroad, where, when warm-hearted Mrs. Tobin learned from her husband what Arthur and Uncle Phin and Rusty had done, she took the boy at once into her arms and heart, and shook hands with the old negro, and petted the dog, and said that her house was honored by having such distinguished guests under its roof. Then she prepared an extra fine dinner for the occasion, and even little Rusty was allowed to sit at the table and have his share of it, “just like folks,” as Mrs. Tobin said.
After dinner Arthur won Kitty’s heart by reading stories to her out of his precious book, and Uncle Phin won it by carving toys out of bits of soft pine with his jack-knife, and Rusty won it by performing all his tricks and playing with her.
That evening Conductor Tobin produced a railroad folder that contained a map. On this they traced out the course of the journey yet to be undertaken to the point on the James River not far from Richmond, Virginia, where Uncle Phin said Dalecourt was located. When their route had been carefully marked in red ink the map was entrusted to Arthur for their future guidance.