ace.

"How on earth could we be pursued, after the way we cut the wires along
the line," muttered the leader. "Can the enemy have telegraphed from Big
Shanty to Kingston by some circuitous route? I don't understand."

"Are you making full speed?" he asked the engineer, a second later.

"The old horse is doing his best," answered the man, "but the wood is
getting precious low."

"George, pour some engine oil into the furnace."

The boy seized the oil can, and obeyed the order. The speed of "The
General" increased; the engine seemed to spring forward like a horse to
which the spur has been applied.

"That's better," said Andrews. "Now if we can only burn that bridge before
the enemy are up to us, there is still a chance for success--and life!"
His voice sank almost to a whisper as he uttered the last word. With a
strange, indescribable sensation, George suddenly realized how near they
all were to disaster, even to death. He thought of his father, and then he
thought of Waggie, and wondered what was to become of the little dog. The
boy was cool; he had no sense of fear; it seemed as if he were figuring in
some curious dream.

Suddenly Andrews left the engine, lurched into the tender, and began to
climb out of it, and thence to the platform of the first baggage car.
George looked back at him in dread; surely the leader would be hurled from
the flying train and killed. But he reached the car in safety and opened
the door. He shouted out an order which George could not hear, so great
was the rattle of the train; then he made his way, with the ease of a
sure-footed chamois, back to "The General." He had ordered the men in the
car to split up part of its sides for kindling-wood. By the use of the
cross-ties, which they had picked up along the road, they battered down
some of the planking of the walls, and quickly reduced it to smaller
pieces. It was a thrilling sight. The men worked as they had never worked
before. It was at the imminent risk of falling out, however, and as the
train swung along over the track it seemed a miracle that none of them
went flying through the open sides of the now devastated car.

On rushed "The General." As it turned a curve George, who was now in the
tender, glanced back to his right and saw--the pursuing engine less than a
mile behind.

"They are after us again!" he shouted. "They have gotten past the broken
rail somehow," he said. "They must have track repairing instruments on
board."