The Rainy Day Railroad War Part 6

Suddenly a bystander leveled his mittened hand above his eyes and gazed up the long trail across the lake. The road was "brushed out" by little bushes set along at regular intervals.

Away off on the distant perspective a dot was advancing. It resolved itself into horse and sleigh. Puffs of vapor from the steaming animal indicated the urgent precipitancy of its speed.

"I reckon that'll be Colonel Gideon Ward!" called the man who had just observed the team.

Parker, busy with his gages and oil-can, gave one look up the road and went on with his labors. In a few moments the jangling beat of many bells throbbed on the frosty air. As if answering a challenge, the locomotive's escape valve shot up its hissing volume of steam.

"We are very nearly ready, gentlemen!" called Parker. He gave an order to his volunteer fireman, and suggested that intending pa.s.sengers get aboard the sleds.

"I'll sound the whistle," said he. "There may be some still waiting up at the store."

The whistle shrieks were many and prolonged. The horse, speeding down the lake, was only a few rods away. He stopped, crouched, and dodged sidewise in terror. An old man stood up and began to belabor the frightened animal.

He was a queer figure, that old man, in the high-backed, high-fender sleigh. On his head was a tall peaked fur cap, with a barred c.o.o.n tail flopping at its apex. A big fur coat, also covered with c.o.o.n tails, made the man's figure almost Brobdingnagian in circ.u.mference. It was Colonel Gideon Ward.

CHAPTER FIVE--HOW COLONEL GIDEON WAS BACKED DOWN FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS LIFE

Above the purple k.n.o.bs on his cheekbones Colonel Gideon Ward's little gray eyes snapped malevolently. He roared as he lashed at his trembling horse. The animal dodged and backed and stubbornly refused to advance on the strange thing that was pouring white clouds into the air and uttering fearful cries.

At last the horse reared, stood upright and fell upon its side, splintering the thills. Several of the men ran forward, but before the animal could scramble to its feet Ward leaped out, tied its forelegs together with the reins, and left it floundering in the snow. Then he came forward with his great whip in his hand. The crowd drew aside apprehensively, and he tramped straight up to the locomotive.

"What do ye mean," he roared, "by having engines out here to scare hosses into conniptions? Take that thing off this lake and put it back on the railroad tracks up there where it belongs!" He shook his fists over his shoulder in the direction of the distant embankment.

"You will observe," said Parker, blandly, "that there is some twenty inches difference between the gage of the wheels and the gage--"

"I don't care that"--and Colonel Ward snapped the great whip--"for your gages and your gouges! Take that engine off this ro'd."

"I don't care to discuss the matter," returned Parker, quietly. "I am busy about my own affairs--too busy to quarrel."

"There's no use of me and you backin' and fillin'!" shouted the old man. "You know me and I know you. You think you're goin' to tote your material up over this lake and build that railroad across my carry at Poquette?"

"Yes, that's what I am going to do."

Ward shot out his two great fists.

"Naw, ye ain't!" he howled.

Parker turned and consulted his steam-gage and water indicator. Then he rang the bell.

"All aboard!" he shouted. "First train for Poquette."

A nervous little laugh went round at his quiet jest, and twoscore men boarded the sleds. For the first time in his roaring, reckless and quarrelsome life Colonel Gideon Ward found himself in the presence of a man who defied him scornfully and facing an obstacle that promised ridiculous defeat.

The t.i.tter of the crowd spurred his rage into fury. He took his whip between his teeth, and grasping the hand-rods, was about to lift himself into the cab. Parker put his gloved hand against the old man's breast.

"Not without an invitation, Colonel Ward," he said. "Our party is made up."

"Don't want to ride in your infernal engine!" bellowed Ward, "I'm goin'

to hoss-whip you, you--"

"Colonel Ward, you know the legal status of the Poquette Carry Railroad, don't you?"

"I don't care--"

"If you don't know it, then consult your counsel. You are on the property of the Poquette Railroad Company. I order you off. There's nothing for you to do but to go."

Eyes as fiery as Ward's own met the colonel. The pressure on his breast straightened to a push. He fell back upon the snow.

The next moment Parker pulled the throttle. The spike-spurred driving-wheels whirred and slashed the ice and snow until the "bite"

started the train, and then it moved away up the long road, leaving Ward screaming maledictions after it.

"Well," panted the fireman, "that'll be the first time Colonel Gid Ward was ever stood round in his whole life!"

"I'm sorry to have words with an old man," said Parker, "but he must accept the new conditions here."

"This is new, all right!" gasped the fireman, with an expressive sweep of his hand about the little cab.

Parker was watching his new contrivance with interest. His steering-gear was rude, being a single runner under the tender with tiller attachment, but it served the purpose. The road was so nearly a straight line that little steering was necessary.

The snow on the lake road was solid, and the spikes, with the weight of the engine settling them, drove the sleds along at a moderate rate of speed. The problem of the lake transportation was settled. When Parker quickened the pace to something like twelve miles an hour, the men cheered him hoa.r.s.ely.

The trip to Poquette was exhilarating and uneventful. Parker left his fireman to look after the "train," and accompanied by an interested retinue of citizens, tramped across the six miles of carry road on a preliminary tour of inspection.

He returned well satisfied.

The route was fairly level; a few detours would save all cuts, and the plan of trestles would do away with fills. With the eye of the practised engineer, Parker saw that neither survey nor construction involved any special problems. Therefore he selected his landing on the Spinnaker sh.o.r.e, and resolved to make all haste in hauling his material across the lake.

When the expedition arrived at Sunkhaze at dusk, the postmaster brought the information that Colonel Ward had stormed away on the down-train with certain hints about getting some law on his own account. He had sworn over and over in most ferocious fas.h.i.+on that the Poquette Carry road should not be built so long as law and dynamite could be bought.

For two days Parker peacefully transported material, twenty tons a trip and two trips a day. On the evening of the third day Colonel Ward arrived from the city, accompanied by a sharp-looking lawyer. The two immediately hastened away across the lake toward Poquette.

Parker had twenty men garrisoned in a log camp at the carry, and had little fear that his supplies would be molested. It was hardly credible, either, that a man with as extensive property interests as Colonel Ward possessed would dare to destroy wantonly the goods of a railroad company in the strong position of the Poquette road. However, Parker resolved to make a survey at once, in order to put the swampers at work chopping trees and clearing the right of way.

When he left the cab of his engine the next forenoon at Poquette, he saw the furred figure of Colonel Ward in front of his carry camp a sort of half-way station for the timber operator's itinerant crews. The lawyer was at his elbow.

Parker ignored their presence.

A half-hour later the young engineer had established his Spinnaker terminal point, and was running his lines. Still no word from the colonel, who was tramping up and down in front of the camp. Parker's whimsical fancy pictured those furs and c.o.o.n tails as bristling and fluffing like the hair of an angry cat.

[Ill.u.s.tration: Appearance of an enraged Polar bear 078-100]

The young man wondered what card his antagonists were preparing to play.

He found out promptly when he ordered his swampers to advance with their axes and begin chopping down the trees on the right of way. At the first "chock" ringing out on the crisp silence of the woods Ward came running down the snowy stretch of tote-road, presenting much the same appearance as would an up reared and enraged polar bear. The lawyer hurried after him, and several woodsmen followed more leisurely.

"Not another chip from those trees! Not another chip!" bawled the colonel. The men stopped chopping and looked at each other doubtfully.