t when the train having the conspirators on board
reached that station from Marietta. The conductor, William Fuller, the
engineer, Jefferson Cain,--and Anthony Murphy, a railroad official from
Atlanta, were among those who went into the "Shanty" to enjoy breakfast.
They were naturally unsuspicious of any plot; the deserted engine seemed
absolutely secure as it stood within very sight of an encampment of the
Confederate army.

Suddenly Murphy heard something that sounded like escaping steam. "Why,
some one is at your engine," he cried to Fuller, as he jumped from his
seat. Quick as a flash Fuller ran to the door of the dining-room.

"Some one's stealing our train!" he shouted. "Come on, Cain!" The
passengers rushed from their half-tasted meal to the platform. The
conductor began to run up the track, followed by his two companions, as
the train moved rapidly away.

"Jerusha!" laughed one of the passengers, a gouty-looking old gentleman;
"do those fellows expect to beat an engine that way?"

The crowd joined in the fun of the thing, and wondered what the whole
scene could mean. Perhaps it was but the prank of mischievous boys who
were intent on taking an exciting ride.

"What's up, anyway?" asked Murphy, as the three went skimming along on the
railroad ties, and the train drew farther and farther away from them.

"I'll bet some conscripts have deserted from camp," cried Fuller. "They'll
run up the line a mile or two, then leave the engine and escape into the
woods." He did not imagine, as yet, that his train was in the hands of
Northern soldiers.

On, on, went the trio until they reached the point where George had cut
the wire.

"Look here," said Cain; "they've cut the wire! And look at the broken
rail!"

One glance was sufficient to show that the engine thieves, whoever they
might be, knew their business pretty well. There was something more in
this affair than a mere escape of conscripts.

"Look up the road," said Murphy. He pointed to some workmen who had a
hand-car near the track, not far above him. Hurrying on, the trio soon
reached these men, explained to them what had happened, and impressed them
into the service of pursuit. In two or three minutes the whole party were
flying up the line on the hand-car.

"Kingston is nearly thirty miles away," explained Fuller, as they bowled
along. "I don't know who the fellows are, but they'll be blocked by
freight when they get there, and we may manage to reach them