Adventure Magazine Cover — page 131: what you’re looking at

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

The Super of the Santee great deal. He’s too much in love with himself!”’ Bracket clutched Paddy’s fat shoulder. “You wouldn’t do a thing like that, would you?” he asked in unbelief. “It’s McGann’s wife that’s dying. Not McGann!” Paddy gave vent to his feelings by slam- ming the brake handle into emergency, and then back to release. When the hiss of air had ceased he got to his feet. “T’ll do what I please! What about No. 17?” he growled, squinting up at the steam gauge and then opening the fire door and studying the fire. “Vl get a crew for her! Just so you haul McGann. I don’t think you can make it by eleven anyhow.”’ “Shut up!” snapped Paddy, reaching around forarake. “T’ll make it by ten if I want to. Go back and get Watkins. I'll go off an’ leave him if he isn’t here right away.” Bracket swung down and raced off into the darkness without further words. Paddy raked the fire down swiftly and turned the blower on full. Then went back to his seat, made sure the cylinder cocks were open, and cracked the throttle, so the steam would clear the accumulated water out of the cylinders. To help it along he threw the reverse forward, allowing the en- gine to creep at a snail’s pace down the track. He had gone some fifty yards, and backed up, when Watkins swung into the cab. “All set?”’ Paddy called. Watkins, panting, nodded. Paddy threw the reverse forward again and eased out on the throttle. The right cylinder cock roared as the steam rushed through. The great steel steed hesitated, moved slowly, then faster. They slipped down the yards, flaring jets of steam spurt- ing from one cylinder, then the other. “What about the injector?” Watkins asked, peering at the water bottle. “Divil a bit can we worry about the in- jector! We’ll have no heavy train to pull. The one good one will do us!”’ Watkins gave the fire a hasty feeding of coal. Then leaned out his side of the cab to keep an eye on the yard lights. Sky City was a hundred and forty-six miles away, in the opposite direction from Petersburg. The engine was headed the wrong way. Before they left the yards Pad- dy switched toa Y track and turned around. 125 Then, with everything straightened out, he turned the bell ringer on and backed for the station at a reckless speed. They came up out of the night with the bell tolling loudly, the squat stack stream- ing sparks from the urge of the roaring blower, and Watkins bathed in fiery light as he raked the leaping fire. The great train-shed was empty, save for scattered Pullmans and several strings of vacant coaches. As Paddy shut off steam and coasted in with his hand on the brake, two men ran out from the gates and cut across to intercept them. One was McGann. The other a tall gentleman with a close-cropped mustache and a small leather case swinging from one hand. Paddy applied the air and stopped by them. McGann clambered up first. ‘“What’s the matter?” he demanded loudly. “I said to get this engine here in ten minutes! It’s nearer fifteen!” ‘“‘There was nothing ready,” Paddy told him with a shrug. “I left No. 17 to her fate an’ come on.” McGann, his eyes adjusted to the light in the cab, looked at him closely. “Tt’s you, is it?” he rasped. “Yes, sor,” acknowledged Paddy briefly. *“‘Would you be wantin’ me to go back?” “You'll have to do! Get us to Sky City as quick as you can! Eleven is the dead line! I’ve cleared the road!” Paddy settled firmer in his seat and peered out the window. The signal at the end of the train shed shone green. The way was clear. One hundred and forty- six miles of track ahead. A woman dying. The minutes fleeting. Paddy’s fat face settled in lines of serious- ness. His hand pushed the air reverse forward. Then released the brakes. He cracked the throttle. HEY moved. Ran through the train-shed with increasing speed. Outside, the dark night closed in about them. Paddy reached up and snapped the headlight button. Down the rails ahead the dazzling white beam leaped. Out on the throttle again. The great drivers turned faster. The warehouses and buildings along the tracks began to slip by with increasing speed. McGann and the surgeon seated them- selves on Watkins’ seat. COmiclboooks.c©