say we will leave Santa Fe tracks, that’s just what I mean. We are going to switch the train off those tracks, and onto the Denver and New Orleans tracks.”
“Oh,” McDill said, though it was clear that he still didn’t fully understand the operation.
“We are going to steal the train,” Red continued with the explanation. “Then Burgess is going to drive it. Like he said, we’ll leave the Santa Fe track and head south on the Denver and New Orleans. When the other three trains come through, they won’t have any idea that anything is wrong with the first train, and by the time they get it figured out, we’ll be sitting pretty somewhere with a whole trainload of cattle.”
“You make it sound pretty easy,” Woodward said. “So what are you not sayin’? What do we need to look out for?”
“I don’t figure we’ll have too much trouble taking the train,” Red said, “but Burgess has pointed out what might be a problem.”
“Yeah, I thought this was sounding too easy. What is the problem?” Woodward asked.
“On any railroad you’ve got trains goin’ all the time, using the same tracks,” Burgess said. “The only way they can keep them from ever runnin’ in to each other is by scheduling them so that they know where every train is at all time, and which way it’s going. As long as we are on the Santa Fe Tracks, we’re on their schedule so there’s no problem with other trains. But once we get on the Denver and New Orleans line, they won’t have us on their schedule.”
“So what you are saying is that another train could run in to us?” Woodward asked.
“Well, it shouldn’t be that much of a problem for us,” Burgess said. “All we have to do is get clear of the high iron, then we stop somewhere and unload the cattle. But, being as we’ll be leaving the train just sittin’ there, why, it could be a problem for the next train that comes along. Won’t be so bad if the next train to come along is just freight. But if it’s varnish, it could wind up killin’ a lot of folks.”
“Varnish?” McDill asked.
“That means a passenger train,” Burgess explained.
“Yeah, but if you think about it, that’s not really a problem either,” Red said. “If a bunch of folks gets killed and injured, then that will mean that ever’ one’s goin’ to be concentratin’ on the train wreck. Like as not, they’ll forget all about a few cows.”
“What will we do with the cows once we get ’em?” Woodward asked.
“Why, we’ll sell ’em of course,” Red said.
“To who?” Woodward wanted to know. “It ain’t like we can take them cows to market and sell ’em. Bein’ a special breed and all, soon as we take ’em, folks are goin’ to know about it. And if we show up at some market with the same number and same kind of cows as the ones that was stolen, we’ll wind up in prison. And I ain’t all that anxious to go back to prison.”
“We’ll find someone to buy ’em,” Red said. “We won’t get as much money for ’em by sellin’ ’em that way, but we will make enough for this to be worth our time and effort, that’s for sure.”
In the cab of the 2-4-2 Baldwin locomotive, Engineer Clem Beale and Fireman Jerry Kelly were illuminated by the yellow cabin lights. Beale looked at the steam-pressure gauge, then checked the water level.
“I’m glad we’re comin’ up on the Lajunta tank,” Beale said. “We’ve been keepin’ a lot of pressure and we’re using water like it’s passin’ through a sieve.”
“Ahh, we’re in good shape to make it to the tank,” Kelly said. He opened the door to the firebox then tossed in another few shovelfuls of coal. Slamming the door shut, he leaned back against the side of the cab, pulled out a large red bandana, and wiped the sweat from his face.
“Say, Clem, have you ever heard of Santy Claus?” Kelly asked.
“Of course I’ve heard of Santa Claus,” Beale replied. “Why would you ask a question like that?”
“I wasn’t sure whether you had, seein’ as you ain’t married and don’t have any kids or nothin’,” Kelly said. “But my two kids is just full of it. I told ’em, it’s more than a month ’till Christmas, it ain’t time to be worryin’ about anything like that yet. But that ain’t quietened ’em down any.”
Beale chuckled. “What are you goin’ to do, Jerry? Get yourself one of them red Santa Claus suits?”
“Nah, I’ll just wait ’til they’re both asleep, then tell ’em they didn’t wake up in time to see him.”
“Ha, I’m glad I don’t have any kids to worry about with Santa Claus and such things,” Beale said.
“It ain’t really that big a worry when you think about it,” Kelly said. “I kind of like it.”
Beale smiled and nodded at his friend. “That’s because you are a good Pa.”
Thirty cars back from the engine, the only other car that was illuminated was the private car owned by the Union Pacific Railroad, but on temporary consignment to Smoke Jensen. Sally was in bed in her nightgown, but not asleep. Smoke, who was not in bed was sitting in a large, overstuffed reclining chair. His feet were propped up on the footrest, and he was looking through the window at the moon-silvered landscape they were passing through.
“Wouldn’t it be nice to have our own private car?” Smoke asked. “That way, anytime we wanted to go somewhere, all we would have to do is arrange to have it attached to the end of some train and we could go anywhere we wanted as comfortable as this.”
“We can do that anyway,” Sally said. “I mean look at us now. We don’t own a private car, but we aren’t exactly riding in a cattle car either, are we? If we wanted one, we could always rent one.”
“Yes, but wouldn’t it be neat to sort of drop into a conversation, something like—‘Next week Sally and I will be taking our private car to New York, or Philadelphia, or Madagascar.’”
Sally laughed. “Madagascar is an island. How would we get there?”
“By ship.”
“Then we wouldn’t need a private car, would we?”
“You are too practical for your own good,” Smoke said. He reached for his boots, then set them beside the chair.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m just making my boots handy. I figure we’ll be taking on water pretty soon,” Smoke said. “When we do, I’m going to take a walk up one side of the train and down the other side, just to make certain everything is all right.”
It was only a quarter moon, but that was enough to cause the tracks to gleam silver as they stretched out before Red and the three men with him. Far to the west they could see the Rocky Mountains, rising like a huge black slab against a somewhat lighter sky. A few minutes earlier, Burgess had climbed up onto the water tower, and now he climbed back down.
“Did you see it?” Red asked.
“I saw the light.”
“How do you know it was the train’s light?”
“Because it was in the right place,” Burgess replied. “It’ll be here in about another ten minutes.”
“Remember,” Burgess cautioned. “Nobody does anything until after the train has taken on water. We’ll be needing that water ourselves.”
The men heard a distant whistle.
“I hear it,” Woodward said, excitedly.
“We all hear it,” McDill said.
“All right, let’s get down out of sight,” Red Coleman ordered.
CHAPTER TWELVE
The car passed over a rough section of track, then Smoke felt the train beginning to slow.
“We must be coming up on that water tank now,” Smoke said. He started pulling on his boots.
