The Young Railroaders Part 15

The first speaker threw down his pen. "Well, I'm an idiot. That's so."

He thought a moment, then, turning toward Alex, eyed him sharply an instant, and said: "Youngster, I'll give you a dollar a word if you will give me your solemn promise to send this message just as I write it."

A bare instant Alex hesitated, while the tempter whispered that it would mean thirty or forty dollars for a few minutes' work, and that everyone would take it for granted he had been compelled to send it. Then abruptly he leaned back in his chair and shook his head. "I couldn't do it," he said quietly but positively.

"Oh, you couldn't, eh, Goody-goody?" exclaimed the smaller man, with a snarl, catching up the revolver and pointing it at Alex's head. "Now could you do it?"

The taller man caught his arm. "Don't be a fool, Jake. After all, we couldn't be sure he wasn't fooling us even if he took the money.

"Look here, I have a scheme."

They stepped back and spoke together in low tones for a moment; then the taller turned again to Alex, who meantime had remained quiet in his chair, futilely endeavoring to think of some means of spreading the alarm.

"I suppose you are not the only operator at this station, kid?"

"No; there is a day and a night operator. I am only 'subbing' for the night man," responded Alex, wondering.

"Where is he?"

"At a party."

"Where is the day man?"

"At his boarding-house. But you couldn't get either of them to do it,"

Alex declared confidently, thinking he had caught the drift of their purpose.

"Never mind what we could or what we couldn't. Where does the day operator board? Is it far?"

Momentarily Alex had a mind to refuse to tell; then, on the thought that suspicion might be aroused if one of the robbers went to rout the day man out, he replied, "About a quarter of a mile," and described how the house could be reached.

Again the two men held a whispered consultation, and at its conclusion the smaller man hurriedly left.

"Now I suppose you are wondering what we propose doing with the day operator," said the tall man, with a grin, when they were alone. "Well, it's so good I think I'll tell you. One of the cleverest getaway schemes you ever heard of, and my own idea. Can you guess?"

Alex shook his head. "If it's not to send the message--and which I know he won't--I don't know."

The robber laughed. "You are going to send the message, and he is going to stand just outside the door here and tell us letter by letter just what you make the instruments say. See?"

Alex uttered an exclamation. And, strange as it may seem, it was not entirely of chagrin, for the striking originality and ingenuity of the plan immediately appealed to his own peculiar genius for getting over difficulties.

"And then," continued the talkative safe-breaker, "we will tie you both in your chairs, cut the wires, then flag the night express, and depart for the East like respectable citizens, and by the time you have been found and the wires restored we will be well out of danger.

"Now, I claim there is some cla.s.s to that scheme. What?"

Despite himself, Alex could not forbear a smile, even while he at once saw that to defeat the plan would be almost an impossibility.

Nevertheless, as the bank robber turned his attention to a time-table, Alex determinedly addressed his wits to the problem.

Presently, as he sat looking at the telegraph instruments for an inspiration, he started. That last First of April joke he had played on his father! The cut-off arrangement of wires was still in place beneath the instrument table! Could he not use it?

He determined to see whether the connections were still in order.

Fortunately he was sitting close to the table, with his feet beneath.

Making a move as though tired of his position, he crossed one foot over the other, and sank a little lower in the chair. Then, the change having brought no comment from the man at the counter, he carefully reached out the upper foot, found the two wires and pressed them together.

Immediately came a click from the instruments.

It was in working order! With hope Alex at once addressed himself to its possibilities, and soon a suggestion came. "Yes, I believe I could do it," he told himself with satisfaction. "I'll make a try anyway. So much for never giving up."

At that moment the footfalls of the returning robber and those of another sounded on the platform without. Both men were talking, and as they entered the waiting-room Alex heard the evidently still unsuspecting Jones say: "Funny, though. I never heard of the boy being troubled with his heart before."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "COME ON! COME ON!" EXCLAIMED THE MAN IN THE DOORWAY.]

The next moment Jones's casual tones changed to a sharp cry of fright, and Alex knew that the robber had revealed himself. "Now you keep your tongue between your teeth, and do exactly what you are told, young man, or you get this! You understand?

"Now turn about--your back toward the office door--so." The door was flung open, and the robber appeared standing sideways, his gun in his hand, pointing at the day operator, who was just out of Alex's sight.

"Now what you are to do is to read off letter by letter what this young shaver in here sends on the wire. You are a tab on him. You understand?"

In a trembling voice Jones responded in the affirmative.

"And the first one of you who appears to do anything not straight and aboveboard gets daylight through his head," he added, raising his voice for Alex's benefit. Then, addressing his partner, he said: "Give the kid the message, Bill."

The tall man leaned over the counter and tossed the blank on the table before Alex.

"Who will I send it to first?" asked Alex.

"The sheriff, Watson Siding."

"All right. But first, you know, I have to call him," explained Alex, somewhat nervously, now that the critical moment had come. "His call is WS."

Therewith he began slowly calling, that Jones might read off each letter as he sent it, "WS, WS, WS, BX."

"WS, WS--"

"I, I," answered WS.

"WS answers," interpreted Jones.

Steadying himself with a deep breath, Alex proceeded to carry out his plan. Carefully reaching forth with his foot beneath the table, he pressed the two wires together, then loudly clicked his key. The instruments, thus "cut out," of course failed to respond.

"The wire appears to have opened," announced Jones. "Probably the man at WS has opened his key while getting a blank or a pen."

Again Alex clicked the key as though in a futile effort to send, then leaving it open, thus holding the instruments on the table "dead," began ticking his foot against the impromptu key beneath the table.

And while the instruments at Bixton remained momentarily silent, the surprised operator at Watson Siding read in draggy but decipherable signals the words:

"Read every other word."

"Come on! Come on!" exclaimed the man in the doorway, turning suspiciously. Immediately Alex withdrew his foot and closed the key, and at the resulting audible click Jones announced: "The wire has closed. He can send now."