The Iron Horse Part 25

"`Remember what place?' demanded her husband, sternly, as he returned with the medicine.

"No answer was given. The woman fell back on hearing his voice, but, although she lived for nearly an hour, never spoke again.

"The man turned on me, and asked again what place she had been speaking of. I said that it was idle to repeat what might prove to be only the ravings of a dying woman. He seized a bludgeon, and, raising it in a threatening manner, said, `I know you, Dr n.o.ble; you shall tell me what I want to know, else you shall not quit this room alive.'

"`I know you, too, Thomson,' said I, drawing a small sword from a stick which I always carried. `If you proceed to violence, it remains to be seen who shall quit this room alive.'

"I opened the door and walked quietly out, leaving him glaring like a tiger after me.

"Going to the place described, I found the diamonds; and from that day to this I have not ceased to try to discover my old friend, but have not yet succeeded. Knowing that he might be dead, I have made inquiry of every one possessing your name, Mrs Tipps, in the hope of discovering his widow or children; and, although your name _is_ an uncommon one, madam, you would be surprised if you knew how many I have ferreted out in the course of years. Unfortunately, my friend never mentioned his family, or the place of his residence in England, so I have had no clue to guide me save one. I have even found two widows of the name of Tipps besides yourself, and one of these said that her husband was a sailor captain, but her description of him was not that of my friend. The other said her husband had been a lawyer, so of course _he_ could not be the man of whom I was in search."

"But, sir," said Mrs Tipps, in some perplexity, "if you are to depend on description, I fear that you will never attain your end, for every one knows that descriptions given of the same person by different people never quite agree."

"That is true, madam; and the description given to me this evening of your late husband is a case in point; for, although it agrees in many things--in most things--there is some discrepancy. Did your husband never give you the slightest hint about a set of diamonds that he had once lost?"

"Never; but I can account for that by the fact, that he never alluded to anything that had at any time given him pain or displeasure, if he could avoid it."

"There is but the one clue, then, that I spoke of, namely, the ring that belonged to the set of diamonds. Did your husband ever possess--"

"The ring!" exclaimed Mrs Tipps and Netta in the same breath. "Yes, he had a diamond ring--"

They stopped abruptly, and looked at each other in distress, for they remembered that the ring had been lost.

"Pray, what sort of ring is it? Describe it to me," said Dr n.o.ble.

Netta carefully described it and, as she did so, the visitor's countenance brightened.

"That's it; that's it exactly; that _must_ be it for I remember it well, and it corresponds in all respects with--my dear ladies, let me see the ring without delay."

"Alas! sir," said Mrs Tipps, sadly, "the ring is lost!"

A look of blank dismay clouded poor Dr n.o.ble's visage as he heard these words, but he quickly questioned the ladies as to the loss, and became more hopeful on bearing the details.

"Come," he said at last, as he rose to take leave, "things don't look quite so bad as they did at first. From all I have heard I am convinced that my friend's widow and daughter are before me--a sight of the ring would put the question beyond all doubt. We must therefore set to work at once and bend all our energies to the one great point of recovering the lost ring."

CHAPTER NINETEEN.

A RUN-AWAY LOCOMOTIVE.

Being, as we have had occasion to remark before, a communicative and confiding little woman, Netta Tipps told the secret of the ring in strict confidence to her old nurse. Mrs Durby, in a weak moment as on a former occasion, related the history of it to Gertie, who of course told Loo. She naturally mentioned it to her lover, Will Garvie, and he conveyed the information to John Marrot. Thus far, but no further, the thing went, for John felt that there might be danger in spreading the matter, and laid a strict injunction on all who knew of it to keep silence for a time.

While at the station the day following, just after having brought in the "Flying Dutchman," he was accosted by the superintendent of police, who chanced to be lounging there with, apparently, nothing to do. Never was there a man who was more frequently called on to belie his true character. It was a part of Mr Sharp's duty to look lazy at times, and even stupid, so as to throw suspicious men off their guard.

"A fine day, John," he said, lounging up to the engine where John was leaning on the rail, contemplating the departure of the pa.s.sengers whose lives had been in his hands for the last hour and a half, while Will Garvie was oiling some of the joints of the iron horse.

John admitted that it was a fine day, and asked what was the noos.

"Nothing particular doing just now," said Mr Sharp. "You've heard, I suppose, of the mad fellow who caused such a confusion among Miss Tipps's Sunday-school children last night?"

"Oh yes, I heard o' that."

"And did you hear that he turns out to be the man who jumped out of your train on the day of the attempted robbery?"

"Yes, I've heard o' that too. They haven't got him yet, I believe?"

"No, not yet; but I think we shall have him soon," said Mr Sharp with a knowing glance; "I've heard rumours that lead me to think it would not be very surprising if we were to see him hanging about this station to-day or to-morrow. I've got a sort of decoy-duck to attract him,"

continued Mr Sharp, chuckling, "in the shape of a retired East India doctor, who agrees to hang about on the condition that we keep a sharp eye on him and guard him well from any sudden attack."

"You don't mean _that_?" said the engine-driver in an earnest undertone.

Instead of replying, the superintendent suddenly left him and sauntered leisurely along the platform, with his eyes cast down and softly humming a popular air.

The act was so brusque and unlike Mr Sharp's naturally polite character that John knew at once, as he said, that "something was up," and looked earnestly along the platform, where he saw Thomson himself walking smartly about as if in search of some one. He carried a heavy-headed stick in his hand and looked excited; but not much more so than an anxious or late pa.s.senger might be.

Mr Sharp went straight towards the madman--still sauntering with his head down, however; and John Marrot could see that another man, whom he knew to be a detective, was walking round by the side of the platform, with the evident intention of taking him in rear. The moment Thomson set eyes on the superintendent he recognised him, and apparently divined his object in approaching, for he started, clenched his teeth, and grasped his stick. Mr Sharp instantly abandoned all attempt at concealment and ran straight at him. Thomson, probably deeming discretion the better part of valour, turned and fled. He almost ran into the arms of the detective, who now made sure of him, but he doubled like a hare and sprang off the platform on to the rails. Here one or two of the men who were engaged in was.h.i.+ng or otherwise looking after empty carriages, seeing what was going on, at once sought to intercept the madman, but he evaded two or three, knocked down another, and, finding himself alongside of a detached engine which stood there with steam up ready to be coupled to its train, he leaped upon it, felled the driver who was outside the rail, oiling some of the machinery, seized the handle of the regulator and turned on full steam.

The driving-wheels revolved at first with such tremendous rapidity that they failed to "bite" and merely slipped on the rails. Thomson was engineer enough to understand why, and at once cut off part of the steam. Next moment he shot out of the station, and, again letting on full steam, rushed along the line like an arrow!

It chanced that the pa.s.senger-superintendent was on the platform at the time. That gentleman had everything connected with the traffic by heart. He saw that the points had been so set as to turn the run-away engine on to the down line, and in his mind's eye saw a monster excursion train, which had started just a few minutes before, labouring slowly forward, which the light engine would soon overtake. A collision in a few minutes would be certain. In peculiar circ.u.mstances men are bound to break through all rules and regulations, and act in a peculiar way. Without a moment's hesitation he ran to John Marrot and said in an earnest hurried voice--

"Give chase, John! cross over to the up-line, but don't go too far."

"All right, sir," said John, laying his hand on the regulator.

Even while the superintendent was speaking Will Garvie's swift mind had appreciated the idea. He had leaped down and uncoupled the _Lightning_ from its train. John touched the whistle, let on steam and off they went crossed to the up-line (which was the wrong line of rails for any engine to run in _that_ direction), and away he went at forty, fifty, seventy miles an hour! John knew well that he was flying towards a pa.s.senger-train, which was running towards him at probably thirty-five or forty miles an hour. He was aware of its whereabouts at that time, for he consulted his watch and had the time-table by heart. A collision with it would involve the acc.u.mulated momentum of more than a hundred miles an hour! The time was short, but it was sufficient; he therefore urged Will to coal the furnace until it glowed with fervent heat and opened the steam valve to the uttermost. Never since John Marrot had driven it had the _Lightning_ so nearly resembled its namesake. The pace was increased to seventy-five and eighty miles an hour. It was awful. Objects flew past with flas.h.i.+ng speed. The clatter of the engine was deafening. A stern chase is proverbially a long one; but in this case, at such a speed, it was short. In less than fifteen minutes John came in view of the fugitive--also going at full speed, but, not being so powerful an engine and not being properly managed as to the fire, it did not go so fast; its pace might have been forty or forty-five miles an hour.

"Will," shouted John in the ear of his stalwart fireman, "you'll have to be sharp about it. It won't do, lad, to jump into the arms of a madman with a fire-shovel in his hand. W'en I takes a shot at 'im with a lump of coal, then's yer chance--go in an' win, lad--and, whatever--ye do, keep cool."

Will did not open his compressed lips, but nodded his head in reply.

"You'll have to do it all alone, Bill; I can't leave the engine,"

shouted John.

He looked anxiously into his mate's face, and felt relieved to observe a little smile curl slightly the corners of his mouth.

Another moment and the _Lightning_ was up with the tender of the run-away, and John cut off steam for a brief s.p.a.ce to equalise the speed. Thomson at that instant observed for the first time that he was pursued. He looked back with a horrible glare, and then, uttering a fierce cheer or yell, tugged at the steam handle to increase the speed, but it was open to the utmost. He attempted to heap coals on the fire, but being inexpert, failed to increase the heat. Another second and they were abreast John Marrot opened the whistle and let it blow continuously, for he was by that time drawing fearfully near to the train that he knew was approaching.

Seeing that escape was impossible, Thomson would have thrown the engine off the rails if that had been possible, but, as it was not, he brandished the fire-shovel and stood at the opening between the engine and tender, with an expression of fiendish rage on his countenance that words cannot describe.

"Now, Bill, look out!" said John.

Will stood like a tiger ready to spring. John beside him, with a huge ma.s.s of coal in one hand concealed behind his back. There was a s.p.a.ce of little more than two feet between the engines. To leap that in the face of a madman seemed impossible.

Suddenly John Marrot hurled the ma.s.s of coal with all his might. His aim was to hit Thomson on the head, but it struck low, hitting him on the chest, and driving him down on the foot-plate. At the same instant Will Garvie bounded across and shut off the steam in an instant. He turned then to the brake-wheel, but, before he could apply it, Thomson had risen and grappled with him. Still, as the two strong men swayed to and fro in a deadly conflict, Will's hand, that chanced at the moment to be nearest the brake-wheel, was seen ever and anon to give it a slight turn.

Thus much John Marrot observed when he saw a puff of white steam on the horizon far ahead of him. To reverse the engine and turn full steam on was the work of two seconds. Fire flew in showers from the wheels, and the engine trembled with the violent friction, nevertheless it still ran on for a considerable way, and the approaching train was within a comparatively short distance of him before he had got the _Lightning_ to run backwards. It was not until he had got up speed to nigh forty miles an hour that he felt safe, looked back with a grim smile and breathed freely. Of course the driver of the pa.s.senger-train, seeing an engine on the wrong line ahead, had also reversed at full speed and thus prevented a collision, which would inevitably have been very disastrous.