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Updated: May 11, 2025
On January 16 the Nautilus seemed to have fallen asleep just a few meters beneath the surface of the water. Its electric equipment had been turned off, and the motionless propeller let it ride with the waves. I assumed that the crew were busy with interior repairs, required by the engine's strenuous mechanical action. My companions and I then witnessed an unusual sight.
Dave swung down from the caboose and looked round in the dim light for the stockyards engine that was to pick up his cars and run them to the unloading pens. He moved forward through the mud, searching the semi-darkness for the switch engine. It was nowhere to be seen. He returned to the caboose. The conductor and brakemen were just leaving. "My engine's not here.
Pass the fire extinguisher!" I yelled. My words were drowned in the engine's roar; and the pilot, intent on getting near the Boches, thought I had asked which one we were to attack. "Look out for those two Huns on the left," he called over his shoulder. "Pass the fire extinguisher!" "Get ready to shoot, blast you!" "Fire extinguisher, you ruddy fool!"
But the steady motion of the train, the whirl of the wheels, and the occasional blast of the engine's whistle, told him that he was not dreaming, and after enjoying for a while the sensation of travelling he began to think about what he should do when he reached Chicago.
Then the order was given to go ahead full speed, and the engine's great heart seemed to throb sympathetically within the hearts of the rescued ones as the vessel cut her way swiftly through the Southern Ocean homeward bound for Old England!
"The best thing I can do," said Redwood, following out some divergent line of thought, "is to teach him myself." That beating became more insistent. For a moment it seemed to Redwood that it caught the rhythm of an engine's throbbing the engine he could have imagined of some great train of events that bore down upon him.
No, he was not alone; for there wrestled a Man with him till the breaking of the day. And still the train flew on, as though it knew; on it flew, as though the unseen Wrestler himself had his hand upon the engine's throat. The sun was rising when he left the train. The train flew on, uncaring, for trains know not that they are carriers unto destiny.
Up there he traveled back and forth, in circles, and in figure eights, desiring to test the machine in various capacities. Suddenly the engine stopped, and to those below, anxiously watching, the silence became almost oppressive, for Tom had somewhat descended, and the explosions had been plainly heard by those observing him. But now they ceased! "His engine's stalled!" cried Garret Jackson. Mr.
The girl waited inside the room until the shriek of the engine's whistle told her of its approach; then, with the fiddle and the pail, she walked to the platform. The long, snakelike train was edging the hill, its headlight bearing down the track in one straight, glittering line. For the first time in her life, Jinnie felt really afraid.
And say, let me tell you, he had his nerve with him. It seems he was on the roof of the express car all the time, and going as fast as we were, he jumped from the roof of the car down on to the coal on the engine's tender, and crawled over that and held up the men in the cab with his gun, took their guns from 'em and made 'em stop the train.
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