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“The bandit’s sister,” said Bell. “They’re trying to reach the border and cross into Canada.”
Johnston nodded in understanding. “The dispatcher checked with me on southbound trains. None was scheduled until tomorrow morning, so I told him to go ahead and allow the lady’s train to travel north.”
“When did this take place”
“A little less than two hours ago.”
“I’ve got to catch that train,” Bell said firmly. “I’d appreciate clearance to Missoula.”
“Why not telegraph the sheriff in Butte to stop the train and take the bandit and his sister into custody?”
“I’ve tried to do that since leaving Reno, but Cromwell has cut every telegraph line between here and there. No reason for him to stop now.”
Johnston looked stunned. “My God, he could have caused a head-on collision.”
“Until he and his sister reach the Canadian border, they have nothing to lose, even if it means killing anyone who gets in their way.”
Shocked understanding had come to Johnston. “Get that dirty coward,” he said, desperation creeping into his voice. “I’ll gladly give you clearance through to Missoula.”
“I’m grateful for any help you can give,” said Bell sincerely.
“What’s your train number?”
“No train, only a tender and engine number 3455.”
“What kind of engine?”
“A Baldwin Atlantic 4-4-2,” answered Bell.
“She’s a fast one. What about relay crews?”
“I have two crews who insist on sticking to the chase until we grab the bandit.”
“In that case, all I can do is wish you luck.” Johnston rose and shook Bell’s hand.
“Thank you.”
“Two hours is a hell of a lead,” said Johnston quietly.
“We gained two and a half since leaving O
akland.”
Johnston thought a moment. “You’ve got a real chase on your hands. It will be close.”
“I’ll stop him,” Bell said gamely. “I’ve got to stop him or he’ll kill again.”
45
THERE WAS HOPE IN THE HEARTS OF THE MEN WHO sweated and toiled to drive Adeline over the rails. They had all risen up and reached beyond themselves to do the impossible. Men and women who worked the farms and ranches alongside the track stopped their labor and stared in surprise at the speeding lone locomotive that shrieked its whistle in the distance and thundered past beyond their sight in less than a full minute except for the lingering trail of smoke.
With Lofgren in the driver’s seat, he pressed Adeline harder and harder until they swept over the border from Utah to Idaho at a speed of nearly one hundred miles an hour. Pocatello, Blackfoot, and Idaho Falls came and went. Stationmasters could only stand in shock and confusion, not able to comprehend a locomotive and tender that came out of nowhere with no advance warning and plunged past their depots at unheard-of speed.
Before they raced out of Ogden, Bell had procured a pile of blankets so the crews could catnap between shifts of driving the locomotive and feeding its boiler. At first, they found it impossible to sleep for short periods because of the clamor of the drive train, the hiss of steam, and the clatter of the steel wheels over the rails. But as exhaustion set in, they found it easier and easier to drift off until their turn came at the scoop and throttle again.
Except for quick stops for coal and water, Adeline never slowed down. At one stop, in Spencer, Idaho, Bell learned that they were only fifty minutes behind Cromwell’s train. Knowing they were rapidly closing the distance inspired them to renew their efforts and work even harder.
The mystery in Bell’s mind was the report given him by the Spencer stationmaster. It seemed that the Southern Pacific main track stopped at Missoula, with only a spur that went another eighty miles to the small port of Woods Bay, Montana, on Flathead Lake.
