Adventure, January 20, 1922 — page 129: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Juice Hog Twenty-Seven by the words of her master, took hold of things with a new zeal. No sooner did a high bank of snow appear than Danny touched her gently with the whip of the controller and she buried her nose in it, thrust ahead by the force of the torrent miles away in the mountains, whose strength was transmitted to the juice hog through a single strand of copper. Danny, all engineer now, grinned at the physician. “Doc, there’s never another like her in the world,” he boasted. ‘‘She’ll smash her way through anything short of old Saddle Mountain itself.’”” The medical man replied soberly— “Pray Heaven you may be right.” And Danny, suddenly recalled to the situation by the words, turned to peer earnestly through the cab window. Valhalla was a matter of scarcely a mile and a half now. Just ahead loomed the deepest gash that the Transcontinental had scored into the side of Saddle Mountain and it was this place that Danny feared worst of all. Here the real strength of the twenty-seven, her ability to forge ahead without spinning her wheels, would be test ed. No engine the Transcontinental had on the high line had ever attempted that cut when it was banked full of wet snow. Danny’s juice hog had the advantage of ponderous weight, coupled with a smooth driving power that made the eight wheels grip the rails tenaciously, whereas the pull of a steam-engine is in reality a series of jerks that tends to make the wheels slip. “ Suddenly the ground on either side of the track seemed to rise sharply. They were at the cut. Danny threw on every ounce of power he could summon with the con- troller and with a surprized grunt the twenty-seven shot ahead—struck something soft, yielding, that gave way before the impact, yet insidiously sought to pull the giant machine to a stop. The hog creaked and groaned at the terrible tax upon her strength. She was fighting a battle uphill, against a force that seemed unconquerable. Up, up and over her rose the white front of her adversary, enveloping her.as if to blot out in the soft and fluffy folds of a gigantic blanket this seemingly puny thing that sought te burrow through. . The juice hog’s plow was literally useless now; it was solely a matter of battering o 127 through by main strength. And the cut was long, very long. By sheer weight alone she remained on the rails. Though the controller handle was full against the pin which marked it as being wide open, Danny sought to force the loco- motive to greater effort, as he felt her slow- ing down. He thrust hard against the con- troller handle, as if to push the twenty- seven through the drift by main strength, but it was a vain effort. Slower and slower she moved and then her wheels spun as she came to a full stop. And they were by no means half through. Instantly, Danny throw offsthe current, and overhead through the broken rifts of snow the blizzard sang as if in triumph. Malone threw the reverse switch; then moved the controller handle. Easily the twenty-seven backed away from the white wall, as a boxer would dance out of reach of an opponent. <A hundred yards back- ward she went, her rear plow tossing aside the remnants of the drift that had been left in her wake. Then she ground to a stop. Over went the reverse switch to ‘‘forward’”? once more. She moved again to the attack. - “Stand by with him!” yelled Danny to the doctor. ‘‘We’re goin’ to wallop it!” Again they struck, a soft yielding impact, and once more the twenty-seven roared and fought, gaining yardage before she was brought to a halt. Backward they went once more; then another charge. And each time Danny exhorted her, begging her to do this thing for him, as a mahout may urge his elephant to greater effort. The doctor shielded the unconscious Burke from each shock. “Whooroo!” chortled Danny, as they started their battering charge a fourth time. “We'll go through this time or I’m a Hindu!” Again came the thudding muffled sound of the tremendous blow dealt at the drift, and the twenty-seven once more put forth her best effort. But there had to be a reckoning. No machine, human or otherwise, can stand for long an overstrain; it is nature that the weak- est point must give way. In the case of the twenty-seven it was three of her eight motors. As-she surged and bucked against the snow, the odor of smoldering rubber filled the cab. Danny knew what it meant; insulation had become overheated by reason COmiclooolks (C@