Adventure Magazine Cover — page 133: what you’re looking at

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

The Super of the Santee sweat from his face and grinned at him. Back on the air reverse to the last possible notch. And their speed still increased. It became a thing to shrink from. The loco- motive bucked and plunged. Each curve threatened to be the last. To send them off into the fields in a shattering mass of wreck- age. The surgeon looked apprehensively across the cab to Paddy, crouching motionless. The outline of the calm, fat figure reassured him and he shouted in McGann’s ear— “Looks as though we’ll make it in time!” McGann glanced at his watch and nodded curtly. The hundred and forty-six miles became a hundred. And shrank faster than the minutes. They were running in the upper levels of speed. Far above the scheduled time of the Hill and Plain Express, the fast- est train on the whole D. & R. system. Far above the safety limits of the road. A glow rounded a curve far ahead. Turned into another headlight. Paddy dimmed his. The other faded also. And they flashed by a light-spangled passenger train. Paddy suddenly thrust the throttle in and checked their speed slightly. He shouted above the din of their progress: “Trough ahead! Stand by the valve!” Watkins moved to the scoop valve, lo- cated on the side of the tank. And, when Paddy raised his gauntleted left hand, he opened the valve. Down under the tank the lip of the scoop lifted tons of water from the long shallow trough. And their speed flung it up into the tank with such violence that it burst out of the top opening in sheets. Again Paddy raised his hand. Watkins closed the valve, and the scoop lifted. This time Watkins took a lantern and climbed over the top of the coal to the back of the rocking-tank, and made sure the tank had filled. It had. Paddy again pulled out on the throttle and they took up their mad flight through the night. The minutes passed. The miles un- rolled. The grade began to rise slightly. Sky City lay up in the hills. For miles the track would mount. And at last rear up in a steep grade called Boulder Mountain. Then dip for three miles right into the Sky City station. McGann took out a black cigar and began 127 to chew restlessly on it. Watkins toiled with the fire. Paddy nursed the throttle, kept his attention on the swift-changing right of way. They drew near the hills. Entered the last leg of their wild trip. ‘There was time to spre. The odds slowly shifted in favor of the dying woman. And then Paddy, pulling out on the in- jector handle, suddenly lurched back in his seat. The handle of the injector swung loose. P pulled it out rapidly. His face sud- denly became grave. McGann saw his actions. Got to his feet and lurched across the swaying cab. ‘“What’s the matter?” he demanded loudly. “Starting valve handle broke or discon- nected inside,’”’ Paddy replied. McGann was no mechanic. “What will that do?” Paddy gave him a long look. “Tt means,” he answered, “‘that I can’t put any more water in the boiler.” McGann stared stupidly. “No water!” “Not a drop, sor! The other injector was broke when you phoned the round- house. There wasn’t time to get it fixed.” McGann gestured with his unlighted cigar. ‘You mean you are broke down?” “Just about,’ Paddy answered, and leaned out to peer ahead. McGann’s face suddenly twisted with rage. c¢ ADDY leaned over, pushed it in, He asked— you!” he shouted. ‘“T’ll bet this is a put up job! You want to get back at me! But if we don’t get in Sky City by eleven your job won’t be worth two cents!”’ Paddy turned back toward him. His goggled face was expressionless. He took a deep breath. Then spoke coldly: “Youll be in Sky City by eleven o’clock— or in , sor! Better say a prayer!” “What do you mean?”’ Paddy pointed a gauntleted hand toward the partly filled water-glass. His voice was solemn, almost menacing. ‘“There’s our water! I’m going to run her till she makes Sky City—or blows up! If we make the top of Boulder Mountain we can coast in. If the water don’t last that far—they’ll scrape us up in the morning! COMIiCoooks C©