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Bishop, Austin

"Tom of the Raiders"

There was no talking now. The
race had reached the final test of strength. While Tom, in the tender,
yanked logs loose from the pile, Andrews stood ready to pass them to
Knight, who shoved them into the fire-box.
"The wood's wet," said Knight. The others heard him and made no reply. He
worked with the drafts, coaxing the fire. Occasionally, Brown glanced at
the steam gauge; then the two engineers would exchange glances. Slowly the
needle of the gauge crept up.
In the box-car the men silently dropped ties upon the tracks. Sometimes
there was a mumble of satisfaction as a tie fell squarely across the rails;
or a grunt of disgust when one tumbled end for end and landed out of
position.
Running a mile or so behind them, they caught occasional glimpses of the
smoke of the _Texas_. There were moments when the smoke paused and mounted
straight into the sky; then a few seconds later it flattened out and rose
in a long black stream. The _Texas_ was running from obstruction to
obstruction, clearing the way and pressing forward. How had they done it?
How had they passed the broken rail, the ties along the track, the box-cars
and the snag? Those questions were pounding in the brains of Andrews' men.


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