Conductor Tobin, of freight No. 15, was one of the biggest-hearted and most generous men on the road. In fact it was largely owing to this that he had not long ago been promoted from a freight to a passenger train. He could not bear the thought of taking a place from any of his friends, whom he thought needed it more than he did. So he always held back, and let them step up over his head, and rejoiced with them in their good fortune, and said he would take his turn next time. He had a wife and one little girl about Arthur’s age, whose name was Katherine, but who was called “Kitty” for short; and, though the conductor’s pay was small, they managed to make both ends meet, and lived very happily in Harrisburg, in a little cottage that they only rented, but which it was their great desire to own, some day. It was so conveniently situated, not far from the railroad, and yet in such a nice part of the town that Mrs. Tobin often said to Conductor Tobin that they could not find one more to their liking, if they should look for a hundred years, and Conductor Tobin agreed with her.

Like Brakeman Joe, the only persons with whom Conductor Tobin had no patience, and upon whom he was very severe whenever they came in his way, were tramps. In the present case he was pleased with the sweet, honest face of little “Prince Dusty,” a name that struck his fancy most happily. It seemed a proof of the truthfulness of Arthur’s claims, that he possessed, and evidently valued, the very book for which his little girl had expressed a desire. Thus he became favorably inclined toward our travellers, and offered to help them on with their journey.

So it happened that, when freight No. 15 pulled slowly and heavily out from the Arden siding, Arthur and Uncle Phin and Rusty, instead of being left behind on the storm-beaten platform, were comfortably seated about the little round stove in the caboose, enjoying its grateful warmth and very happy over their good fortune.

Soon after starting, Conductor Tobin and Brakeman Joe entered the caboose, and sat down for a chat with their guests. Uncle Phin was too fully occupied in nursing his bruised knee to enter very heartily into the conversation; but Arthur so easily sustained his share of it, that the trainmen were delighted with his intelligence and ready wit. After he had told them all that he could about himself, he began to ask them questions, whereby he gained much information concerning railroad business in general, and the running of trains in particular. They allowed him to climb up into the cupola of the caboose, through the four windows of which he could look out into the night, ahead, behind, and on both sides. Then they showed him their red and white lanterns, and set of flags, and explained their uses. He thus learned that, if any accident happened to their train, it would be the conductor’s first duty to send a brakeman back on the track to wave a red lantern, and warn approaching trains of the danger ahead.

“Would a train always stop if a red lantern was waved across the track ahead of it?” asked Arthur.

“Of course it would,” was the answer, “for if it didn’t it would get into trouble.”

Brakeman Joe even went so far as to initiate the boy into the mysteries of his own peculiar department. Of course he did not invite him to walk over the wet roofs of the moving train, in order to show him how the brakes of the freight cars were set up; but he gave him a lesson on the platform of the caboose that answered every purpose.

Then the trainmen brought out their tin lunch pails, and from their contents, together with those of the paper bag so thoughtfully provided by Aunt Charity, the merry party of five, for of course the always-hungry Rusty was included in it, made a hearty midnight supper.

Freight No. 15 had stopped several times to drop or pick up loaded cars; but, as yet, nothing had been said about leaving the guests behind, or about Arthur reading a story in payment for the earlier portion of their ride. At length, when they were toiling slowly up a long, heavy grade, for they were now climbing the western slope of the Alleghany Mountains, Conductor Tobin claimed the fulfilment of this promise, and Arthur willingly undertook to read the story of “The Wild Swans.” Brakeman Joe was at his post in the cupola on look-out, so of course he could not be expected to listen to the reading. Nor could the conductor hear very well, above the roar of the train, though the boy strove to read loudly and clearly. At length, as it was evident that he was straining his voice, and also that he was growing very sleepy, kind-hearted Conductor Tobin gently took the book from his hands, and bade him lie down on a sort of long bench, covered with a cushion and a blanket, that ran along one side of the caboose, while he finished the story for himself.

Here, with Rusty nestled close beside him, the tired boy quickly fell asleep, while Uncle Phin nodded and dozed in a big arm-chair beside the stove, and the only sounds heard were the panting of the locomotive, and the rattle of the heavy train as it toiled slowly up the steep grades.

Somewhere near the summit a stop was made for water. During it both Conductor Tobin and Brakeman Joe went to the forward end of the long train for a chat with the engineer. They were still talking when it was time to start ahead, and both men jumped into the cab for a moment that they might finish what they were saying. Then they began to make their way back toward the caboose, walking as quickly and surely over the swaying roofs of the cars as though they had been on solid ground.

It had ceased to rain; but thick, damp mist clouds, were driving over the mountains, and they at first thought this was the reason why they did not see the green lights, that should show in the back of the red caboose lanterns. Then they became anxious, and quickened their steps. When they reached the end of the train their worst fears were realized. The caboose was no longer there.

The engineer, happening to look back, saw their swinging lanterns. A sharp, imperative whistle blast called for brakes. For a few moments there was a harsh grinding of the iron brake shoes against iron wheels, and then the train came to a standstill. As it did so Conductor Tobin ran breathlessly up to the locomotive, shouting: “Back down to the tank! Side-track the train, and run your engine back after the caboose. It’s broke loose and gone down the grade! Number 17 is coming up behind us! There isn’t one chance in ten thousand but what there’ll be a collision! We’ve got to take that one though, and do what we can.”

Long before he finished speaking Conductor Tobin was in the cab, and the train was backing rapidly toward the siding. Brakeman Joe had run back to the little green light at its end, unlocked and thrown over the lever, so that now a “flying switch” was made, and, while the train ran in on the siding, the locomotive, previously cut loose from it, still stood on the main track. Again the lever was thrown over, the green light, denoting that the main track was open, swung into place, and the engine seemed to give a great bound as it plunged swiftly down the grade in pursuit of the runaway caboose.

In the meantime Arthur had been suddenly awakened from his nap by a peculiar jarring jerk that accompanied the starting of the train, and by a loud barking from Rusty. For an instant the caboose stood still, though he could hear the other cars in motion, then it began to move backwards; at first very slowly, but increasing its speed with each moment. Although he did not yet realize in the least what had happened, the boy felt uneasy, and stepping to the door he looked out. Even to his inexperienced eye the situation was clear at a glance.

A coupling-pin had broken, and the caboose was running away down the steep grade the train had just climbed.

“Quick, Uncle Phin!” he shouted, “come here quick!” and the old man, hobbling to the door, found the boy exerting all of his strength upon the iron brake wheel.

Together they tugged and strained at it until at length they got the brake set, after a fashion. Of course not as Brakeman Joe’s powerful arms could have done it, but so that its iron shoes ground with considerable force against the wheels.

At first it did not seem to have the slightest effect, and the car still rushed at a fearful speed down the mountain side, whirling around the sharp curves with sickening lurches that nearly threw its passengers off their feet.

Suddenly a new terror was added to the situation. From down in the valley came the shrill whistle of an approaching train, and they knew it was climbing the grade toward them on the same track. Now their runaway car struck a short place of comparative level, and its speed seemed to slacken.

If they could only set that brake up one more notch! It seemed impossible; but they did it, and the red sparks began to fly from the grinding wheels.

They were certainly going slower, and, at last, on the beginning of an abrupt curve, they stopped. Another hundred feet would have sent them flying down the steepest grade of the mountain.

Arthur bade Uncle Phin take one of the two red lanterns left in the car and swing it from the front platform. Then, with the other in his hand, he jumped to the track, and ran at the top of his speed around the curve ahead of them. He was not a second too soon, for within a hundred yards of the caboose he was nearly blinded by the sudden glare of an approaching headlight. Standing steadily in the middle of the track he swung his danger signal to and fro, until he could feel the hot breath of the approaching monster, and then he sprang aside.

Its powerful air brakes were already at work, and the “Keystone Express,” filled with sleeping passengers, came to a standstill within a few feet of the runaway caboose, just as the engine from the freight train bumped softly against it from the other direction.

As Conductor Tobin picked Arthur up in his arms and carried him back to the caboose the tears were streaming down his face, and he said: “God bless you, lad! You’ve done a thing this night the oldest trainman on the road might be proud of doing.”