With a whoosh of steam, Great Northern 3390
again began to move through the snowy night.
Only, this time, it was only going about five miles per hour. This time, its engineer was watching for
trouble up ahead. Jim Dawson was taking
no chances.
“I know I promised I’d
take you for a ride,” he quipped to Marilyn, “but I had no idea it would come
so soon—”
“Jim, look!”
Up ahead were the
flares. They burned brightly in the
night, warning of trouble ahead. To the
right of them, the headlights of the Empire
Builder were now visible.
“She wasn’t kidding,”
Harlan murmured. “That’s it alright!”
Carefully, Dawson applied
the brakes. “Come on!” he said. “We’d better find out what’s going on!”
They hopped out of the
steam engine and struggled through the snow, past the silent diesels. Marilyn was pleased how long it took them to
walk by. She’d run the distance in half
the time, even if it had felt much longer.
When they came to the
baggage car, they walked past this one too, not boarding until they came to the
first real passenger car. Here, there
was a surprise waiting for them (or not waiting). No one was inside!
“Empty?” Dawson glanced
around suspiciously. “This is a pretty
well-ridden train. Someone ought to be aboard.”
Warily, the three pushed
their way forwards to the next car—ah, there was the reason. The second coach was jammed with an excited
mob, all staring intently at the door on the other end. It opened, and the engineer and fireman
wandered out, igniting a torrent of questions from the crowd of passengers.
However, when the fireman
spotted Dawson, he shoved his way through the mob and headed straight over to Marilyn’s
dad.
“So, she wasn’t kidding!”
he said. “It’s really you!”
“What’s this?” Dawson
asked, nodding towards the mob. “Don’t
they know why we’ve stopped yet?”
“It’s the shooting!” the
fireman said. “There’s a couple FBI
Agents aboard this train, and Lenny and I went to go find them. They were just coming out of their sleeper
when we ran up and started talking to them.
One of them glanced up the hall just in time to see Edgar Malone peep
out of his room.
“They told us to hit the
deck, and then they had a gun battle.
Malone was shooting from behind the door—he had a machine gun back
there. Spraying bullets everywhere, and
I don’t know how those agents avoided being hit. Their training must be incredible! One of them figured out where Malone was by
the sound of his voice, fired through the door, and got him! He’s still alive, but he won’t be doing
anymore fighting. The train detective
has him and his goons locked up in that room, and they’re not coming out until
we get to Spokane. The agents told us
not to trust any of the jails before that.”
“Goodness!” said
Dawson. “I can’t remember a night we had
this much excitement! Where are the
agents now?”
“Well, them, a couple of
off-duty cops that happened to be aboard, a couple army guys, and a conductor
that knows everyone at the Glasgow station walked back to find the diesel
that’s supposed to be following us.
Seeing as it hasn’t turned up yet, I guess they must have had a
problem…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The seven men worked
their way through the night snow, their breath forming clouds in the
night—clouds that were barely visible in the absence of light. Not wanting to take any chances, the men
carried no flashlights. They felt their
way along as Marilyn had, knowing that if they stuck to the tracks, they’d
reach their target soon enough…
“Up ahead, there,” Agent
Huxley pointed. “That’s a headlight,
unless I miss my guess.”
“Stopped, too,” snickered
the conductor. “Clever, using a
defective switcher. Those gangsters have
got to be madder than auto mechanics with a deadline.”
He was right. They were still fifty yards off from the
train when they started to hear the shouts and curses.
“I thought you idiots
said this was a new engine!” Kane snarled at Ed and Bob. They both had the engine open and were
fussing nervously with—something. Wires,
or something, I guess. Neither one was
trying to get the engine running—they were stalling for time until help could
arrive.
“Y’know,” said Bob. “For all that talk about efficiency, those
steam engines sure do have a lot of advantages.”
“You’ve been fiddling
with this for fifteen minutes!” shrieked Kane.
“We can’t keep waiting around much longer. Those trains must have crashed by now.”
“You think?” Ed tried to
hide a grin. “Maybe it’ll take longer
than you care for.”
“All I can say,” snapped
Kane, “is that if you don’t get this running in five minutes, we’ll kill you
here and continue on foot. Those trains
won’t be going anywhere either, and we’ll catch them eventually.”
Bob Hightower’s vision
was not what it used to be. His eyes
were incredibly out of focus, leaving him terribly farsighted. He glanced to the left, up the line,
wondering how the Empire Builder was—
Then, he saw the group of
people making their way towards him.
He nudged Ed. “I’ve got it!” he said. “We’ve been approaching this all wrong! Our problem’s under the train!”
For once, Ed didn’t argue
with his friend. “Of course!” he
said. Wandering down the front of the
train, he hopped off and shone his flashlight underneath.
“We’ll have this ready
for you in less than three minutes,” said Bob, crawling under the engine.
“You’d better,” said
Kane, “because if you’re two minutes overdue, I’m going to start blasting!”
He and the other mobsters
stood around outside the engine. Lefty
and Harris were on the left side of the engine (looking towards it), Duffy was
out front, and Kane stood on the right side, machine gun in hand. A few traces of light from the headlight just
showed the sour look on his face—
“Drop your guns!” Agent
Huxley called from behind him. “We’ve
got you surrounded!”
“Who, what—” Kane whirled
around, ready with the machine gun. His
hand started to squeeze instinctively on the trigger—
Bam!
Bam!
His hand came off the
trigger, never to grip a gun again. He
tumbled face down in the snow, unseeing.
A couple more shots from
the other side of the train took the guns out of Lefty and Harris’s hands. Duffy could have tried to shoot the men under
the train, but he knew when he was licked.
He dropped his gun and extended his hands high in the air. With the headlight of the broken diesel
behind him, he cast a giant shadow over the night. But that was all he was now. A shadow of his former self.
Huxley stepped over to
the diesel and glanced down at Kane. He
shook his head. “That was Burt Kane,
alright. Looks like he’s killed his last
dentist.” Wandering around to the front,
he took stock of the other men.
“Lock ‘em in the
caboose,” he said. “The ones under the
train are the engineer and fireman?”
The conductor
nodded. “Nobody else could have beards
like that.”
Ed and Bob were already
crawling out from under the train. “You
fellers are a sight for sore eyes!” Ed bellowed. “Me an’ Bob’ve been doing this for a while,
but tonight had to be the scariest yet.”
“You’re safe now,” said
the agent. “Tell me, who’s back at the
station?”
“Howard Wise, the dispatcher;
Neil Simms, an engineer; and Steve Brown, our station agent. Plus, there’s two more of them gangsters
holding them hostage.”
“I see,” said
Huxley. “Did they expect to be picked
up, or…”
“They were waiting for a
phone call,” responded Ed, “telling them the job was finished.”
“Ah,” said Huxley. “You know the number?”
“Know it?” Ed
bellowed. “Why, I could write it
blindfolded with two hands tied behind my back!”
Bob glanced at his
partner. “Really, Ed, really?”
“Never mind,” said
Huxley. He glanced at his fellow agent,
and a grin came over his face. “I think
I’ve got an idea.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back in Glasgow, Wise’s
heart was pounding a mile a minute. He
knew what that statue behind the screen meant.
Marilyn had to be on board that train.
Kane and Duffy had been
in such a hurry to leave, neither of them had noticed that Marilyn was
gone. Baby Face didn’t catch on until
five minutes after both trains had left.
“Hey, Blinky!” he
said. “Weren’t we supposed to be
watching a girl?”
Blinky glanced
around. “Yeah,” he said. “Where is she?”
“Huh?” Brown played
dumb. “Great Scott, you’re right! I don’t see her!”
“Do you suppose she might
have gotten on the train?” Baby Face snarled, gun coming out of his pocket—but
Blinky motioned for him to put it away.
“It’s just a girl, Baby
Face. The boss would’ve seen her if
she’d gotten on the train. She doesn’t
have time to cause any trouble for us—let her slide. We’ve got three hostages to work with, if
anybody tries anything.”
And so, the minutes
ticked past—ten, twenty, thirty. Wise
fidgeted nervously, wondering what was going on up the line. Had Marilyn made it? Had she gotten the trains stopped? Or had she been too late, and had—
The telephone rang.
Baby Face nearly ran
across the room in his haste to get to it.
“Touch that, and you’re dead,” he snarled at Wise. “Hello?”
“Duffy speaking.”
“Ah, yes, Duffy!” Baby
Face winked at Blinky. “How’d you cats
make out?”
“Malone’s dead, but we
had a little trouble. Kane and I went on
ahead to the hideout, but Lefty and Harris are coming to pick you up in the
switcher. You fellers are going to hide
out somewhere south on the line. Wait
until you hear the diesel pulling up, then head out on the platform and get
in.”
“Got it!” said Baby Face,
hanging up. He looked over at
Blinky. “They’re sending the switcher to
go pick us up—”
“Listen!” shouted
Blinky. “Hear something?”
The silence of the night
was interrupted by a low roar and a steady ding,
ding, ding that signified a moving engine.
A grin crept over Baby Face’s face.
“Perfect timing,” he
said. Training his gun on Wise, he and
Blinky backed towards the door. “Don’t
think of trying to stop us when we leave,” he said, “or we won’t hesitate to shoot.”
“It’s been a pleasure
knowing you fellers,” Blinky said. “If
you ever get to Chicago, try and don’t look us up. We’d probably shoot you dead on sight.”
Laughing, the gangsters
whirled around and headed—
Right into the blinding
glare of a searchlight now trained straight at them.
“We’ve got you
covered—drop your guns, now!”
Baby Face glanced
hurriedly around. There were people
around, for sure, but he couldn’t see any of them—couldn’t see anything, except
the blinding glare of the searchlight and the lights of 81 in the yard—
Lights
of 81 in the yard? That wasn’t the same
diesel! They’d been tricked!
Blinky knew better than
to put up a fight. He dropped his gun,
yanked Baby Face’s out of his hand, and threw his to the ground as well. “Alright, you’ve won,” he said. “Though how you did, I’ll never know. Any chance of me getting a plea bargain?”
[There’ll be one more
chapter next week!]
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
COMING
SOON TO ALCO MYSTERY THEATER:
Twelve-year-old
Sarah Emery was expecting just a normal plane ride from Philadelphia to
Minneapolis when she went to the airport one rainy afternoon. That all changed when she unexpectedly ran
into her best friend, Tracy Turner, who she hadn’t seen in two years. Little did Sarah know that the reunion wasn’t
a coincidence, and even less did she suspect that she was the target of a vast
criminal organization’s dastardly scheme!
Both sides wanted her—only one wanted her alive! Chased across half the country, hounded by
spies at every turn, she’d come to realize before it was all over that—
THE
BEST KIND OF FRIEND IS A SECRET AGENT!
Premieres
August 14, 2017
