CHAPTER XIV.
AN UNCOMFORTABLE NIGHT.
The two travellers boarded a western bound freight train at Brighton. There being no accessible box car, they were compelled to content themselves with a seat on the rear steps of the caboose, where they were discovered and incontinently "bounced" after being carried some twenty miles. Ben thought this ejectment finished their ride on that train, but the Evangelist—whose name was Horton—corrected him. Creeping along in the shadow of the train until it started, they again seated themselves on the steps. This time they made but ten miles, before they were discovered, when some strong adjectives were used, and some hard names called, and they were warned if caught on the train again they would be dealt with in a most summary manner.
"Wait for another train!" exclaimed the Evangelist. "Certainly not—why we have only been bouncedtwice!"
He instructed Ben to crouch under the cars at the centre of the train, and when it started walk with it, so long as he could keep up. When he found the rate of speed getting too much for him, he was to mount a ladder, but not put in appearance on the roof until positive that the crew was not around.
The crew of a freight train consists of the fireman and engineer, who remain in the locomotive's cab; a conductor who, while the train is in motion, generally remains in his caboose, and two brakeman—front and rear—supposed to remain on top, but who, after the train has started, usually betake themselves to the engine-cab and caboose respectively. On the night runs all carry lanterns, and through them their approach is easily discernible by the sly tramp. It will now be understood why Ben was to delay mounting to the top.
Having clung to the ladder for some time he slowly raised his head above the roof and surveyed the situation. Not a light appeared in sight, but on the next car he saw the dark outlines of a man, and heard the Evangelist crooning to himself a revival hymn. He mounted to the roof, and both men sat down immediately over their respective ladders, ready to go down them on the slightest provocation. Much after the fashion of prairie-dogs, sitting at the mouth of their holes, prepared at the faintest disturbance to show a clean pair of heels and faint whisk of a tail. Several times during the ensuing hour the light of the front brakeman appeared as that individual attended to easing the train down grades. And each time our two travellers suddenly disappear; reappearing again when the coast was clear. Having gone about sixteen miles, the train side tracked to allow an eastern-bound express to pass. Ben and his companion crouched under the cars until they again started, when the ladders were resumed and ultimately the roof.
This method of travelling seemed quite pleasant to him and he was beginning to rest more at ease, and recline on his back, when a note of warning from the Evangelist aroused him, and glancing along the train he perceived lights approaching from both directions. The tramps immediately disappeared in the darkness, while the conductor and front brakeman met on the identical car to which our friend Ben was clinging. After some instructions had been given the brakeman, the political disquietudes of the day became a topic of conversation, and so interested did they become, that placing their lanterns on the roof they sat down themselves, to the intense disgust of our friend, who dared not elevate his head. Unfortunately for him the train was a through freight and had just entered on one of the longest runs of the division. The perch that had been comfortable enough for a short occupancy, soon became quite unendurable with the continued jolting of the car. His feet grew stiff and his hands sore. Besides he had to cling close to the ladder in constant terror lest the timbers of the bridges they frequently crossed should sweep him off. To add to his misery both of the train men were great consumers of tobacco, and facing Ben's ladder they poured upon his devoted head a torrent of tobacco juice. Moments grew to the dignity of hours, minutes to ages. Never had he been so thoroughly disgusted with politics. He wished he belonged to a despotism where the discussion of them was punishable with death. Not only dared he not elevate his head, but he was afraid to turn his face skywards at all, lest he receive in the eyes and mouth a charge of the amber juice that was being so liberally bestowed upon him.
Our hero was certainly in an unenviable position. If he ascended to the roof and gave himself up, the conductor had threatened in case he was again caught on the train to hand him over to the authorities the first stop that was made; a procedure that, under the vagrant laws would insure him ninety days in the work house; enough to totally wreck his expectations. On the other hand if he fell to the ground he was sure to be either killed or badly mangled. In this sad predicament his over-strained feelings found vent in a groan.
Railroad men, as a class, are superstitious. There are spots along each crews' route that are vested with supernatural properties. We knew a practical man of good common-sense, an engineer, who solemnly avers that on crossing a certain bridge at midnight, a large white dog always springs across the track immediately his engine leaves the bridge. Another man, a brakeman, would have deserted his train sooner than omit changing his lantern three times, from his right hand into his left, the first time he walked the train. Whatever it is in the human fabrication that yearns after the incomprehensible we know not; but that such a force is established there is verified by the scores of different religious beliefs;—founded on faith or fancy—as you please.
The Administration was receiving a hearty endorsement from the conductor when Ben's groan struck on his ear. A sudden silence ensued. The conductor looked at the brakeman, and the brakeman looked at the conductor. Neither spoke. Another smothered groan came floating from out the surrounding darkness. The conductor was suddenly reminded that his way bills needed overhauling and the brakeman discovered that his presence was needed at the front of the train. Ben was left master of the situation, though unaware of the influence his groans had had in placing him there. He dragged his stiffened limbs to the top of the car, and indulged in a luxurious rub of his bespattered countenance. Presently he was joined by the Evangelist and the two recounted their experiences.
By constant watchfulness and much dodging down the ladders, they retained possession of the train during the night, and the first glimpses of the morning sun found them at Columbus; having made over one hundred and twenty miles on the train Ben had thought it impossible to ride. Stiff, sore, tired and sleepy, but in possession of the satisfaction of having taken a long step on their journey, our friends dismounted and took a look around them. While they still stood by the train the conductor passed. He gave them one look of astonishment, and with the remark, "Well, I'll be blowed!" went on his way.
As they stood staring about them, not knowing just what to do or where to turn their steps, a man approached, ringing an old cow bell.
"Just come in on the train, gentlemen?" asked this individual with a polite bow and monkey-like grin.
The travellers replied in the affirmative.
"Wish to put up at a hotel? Right this way. First-class house. Hotel de Log! On the European plan. Patronized by the elite. Table spread with all the delicacies of the season, and the best the market affords. My clerk was out to a ball last night, and I have to attend to the trains myself this morning. Any baggage? I'll send the porter after it. Just follow me. Breakfast is ready. You are just in time. Right this way, gentlemen. Allow me to carry your coat, sir." This last to Ben, who immediately professed to be competent to carry it himself.
"Very well," replied he of the cow bell; "come right along. You gentlemen also"; to two terrible looking tramps, that it was afterwards discovered had been on the train all the way from Pittsburg, riding bumpers and trucks.
Curiosity caused the travellers to follow the proprietor of Hotel de Log. He led them some distance down the track, and then struck across an open field to a piece of scrub timber, traversed by a brook. A short walk in this patch of woodland revealed the hotel.
A giant sycamore had bowed its aged head to some western tornado, and lay at length upon the ground, parallel with the brook, and about a rod from its brawling waters. Along the brook side of the tree were stretched, upon beds of boughs and leaves a dozen or more men, while two others stirred up the embers of a fire, near them. There were countless empty tin cans—fire scorched and battered—empty bottles of every degree of gentility, from the aristocratic, thick bellied champagne bottle, down to the plebeian blue glass pop, and an iron pot or two, while rags, bones, and scraps of cold victuals, littered the ground; and in the log stuck a piece of broken looking-glass with a fragment of horn comb behind it.
"Gentlemen," said their guide with a courteous wave of the cow bell, "allow me;The Hotel de Log!Make yourselves to home."