Adventure Magazine Cover — page 132: what you’re looking at

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

126 Lau. “Open her up!’ McGann shouted across the width of the cab. Paddy gave him no heed. Sat his seat like a fat statue, his head and shoulders out of the window, his hand steady on the throttle. In a moment he eased it out a trifle further. Then, as they left the interlocking switch- es behind and the track stretched straight and free, he gave a tug. The squat stack suddenly bellowed as the exhaust swept up through it. The huge locomotive surged forward eagerly. Paddy pulled his head inside for a moment. Looked at the water-glass, and opened the injector. Then pushed out of the window again and glued his eyes to the parallel rails that slipped smoothly up the gleaming path of light to meet them. The houses lining the right of way grew more scattered. Rushed by faster. Paddy reached for the whistle cord and shattered the night with a wild blast. Thirty seconds later they pounded over a grade crossing, where automobile headlights winked at them for a brief instant. Paddy pulled back on the air reverse a bit. The bellowing exhaust changed to a smoother, more even flow. But the drivers turned faster. Watkins fitted the shaker bar in place. Pushed in, pulled out, with stout lunges of his body. His face was beginning to glisten with perspiration. But his efforts were telling. The needle of the steam gauge was gradually creeping around toward the mark of full pressure. The last house! The last light flitted by. They were in the cool, open country. The powerful headlight cut a gleaming tunnel through the black night. Down it they rushed. Faster! And still faster! The great locomotive began to plunge and sway. ‘The surgeon and McGann were thrown back and forth on their seat. One lunge caused McGann to brush his hand against the hot blower valve. He jerked it away with a curse. The surgeon was enjoying himself. He held his hat in his hand and peered out the window, drinking in deep drafts of the cool air which sang past. A woman dying. Her life in the hollow of Paddy Reese’s hand. If he willed it she died. If he brought the great surgeon to her side she had a chance. Flynn Paddy, the fat, the gay, and by McGann’s word, the coward, pulled out on the throttle until it would come no more. Fitted his goggles down over his eyes, and crouched on his seat, straining his eyes far ahead. The ponderous driving rods began to pound. The song of the straining ma- chinery rose higher, louder. The cab surged from side to side more violently. The apron of the tank began to beat a fan- tastic tattoo upon the cab sill. More speed! The exhaust pulled the fire until the flames leaped to the base of the stack. When Watkins raked the seething fire-bed the sparks burst through the stack and trailed in a fiery plume behind them. The steam-gauge needle quivered and crept around. And with the adaed pressure their speed went up. Both the surgeon and McGann were forced to brace themselves against the wild sways and plunges of the cab. Faster! Minutes no longer marked the passage of the mile-posts. The telegraph poles took on the appearance of a picket fence as they flashed by. The dark trees and bushes behind them turned into a solid som- ber wall which flowed and flowed endlessly. Their world was the ribbon of track. It unwound smoothly. Straight stretches down which they swooped with dizzying speed. Curves, around which they slued with breath-taking lunges. Hills, where Paddy gave her more valve, the exhaust deepened, and up which they snarled with little decrease in speed. The tons of iron and steel which had drowsed so silently on the Santee ready lot a short time before were changed into a rag- ing, thundering monster which vomited fire and devoured the miles with an insatiable appetite. Little hamlets, oases of twinkling light in the vast barren night, loomed ahead every few minutes. Paddy bore down on the whistle cord. They thundered up, shriek- ing warning blasts. There would be a flash of lights, a crossing with staring people. Then abruptly the dark country once more. Watkins fed the white-hot maw of the fire carefully. Now and then shook it down and evened the bed up with the rake. And his skill sent the needle around until the safety popped with a roar of escaping steam. Paddy looked in and nodded approvingly at the sound. And Watkins wiped the COmiclboooks.c© 5}