“Okay, boy, this is where we catch our ride. As soon as I spot a train heading for Alberta, we wait for it to start rolling, then it’s all aboard.” Clickety Clack stuck a fresh plug of tobacco in his mouth and settled in to wait.
They’d managed to sneak through a hole in the fence at the railway yards and were hiding near the tracks. It was well after noon, but the June sun was still a blistering ball in the clear blue sky.
“And how do you know which train is going to Alberta?” Henry asked his gruff guide.
Clickety Clack winked at Henry. “That’s why you’re paying me the big bucks, boy.” Several trains went by but the hobo ignored them.
Bored with the endless waiting, Henry absently reached into his pocket and felt something wedged in the bottom. He pulled out the stub of red crayon he’d used to leave the hobo sign for his pa. As he doodled on the fence, he saw that his drawing resembled a locomotive. Henry blinked.
Why, he’d created a hobo sign! This one would let other boys know they could catch a train here. Henry wondered if there were any other boys in the world having adventures like his.
Clickety Clack glanced at Henry’s drawing, narrowed his eyes and grunted.
Henry watched the engines pull into the yard, then slow to a stop with a loud whoosh and a huge cloud of billowing steam. He wondered if they were ever going to find a train bound for Alberta. “Which one are we going to take?” he asked impatiently.
A noise from the far side of a stationary boxcar made Clickety Clack grab Henry’s arm. “Hush up, boy!”
“What’s wrong?” Henry asked.
“Quiet! Over there, behind that boxcar— bulls.” Clickety Clack crouched even lower behind the large wooden crate they’d been using for cover.
Henry couldn’t imagine why livestock would be roaming loose in a train yard, but when he stood to get a better look, Clickety Clack yanked him down.
“Didn’t you hear me? I said there are two bulls behind that car and they’ve got a dog. Do you want us to get our heads busted open?”
The alarm in the hobo’s voice alerted Henry to the seriousness of the situation. “We’re not talking about cattle, are we?”
Clickety Clack shook his head. “No, fool! I’m talking about the meanest, toughest, worst kind of two-legged critter that ever walked the earth—railway police. Why, those guards would as soon crack your skull as give you the time of day. If they catch us, we’re dead meat. We’ve got to hide.”
Henry glanced around. “Hide? Where?”
Clickety Clack spat out a messy glob of greenish brown ooze. “Over there, in that water tank. The dog can’t track our scent once we’re in the water. Come on!” Clickety Clack made a dash for the tall wooden tower.
Henry followed reluctantly, fear making his feet drag. Did the old man really expect him to climb inside this huge vat and hang there like a rat in a water bucket?
“Come on, I’ll give you a leg up onto the ladder.” Clickety Clack made a cradle out of his hands and lowered himself so Henry could get a boost.
“I—I don’t want to,” Henry stammered, taking a step backward.
The hobo frowned, then rubbed his whiskers. “Oh, I get it. You can’t swim. Don’t worry, boy. I can’t swim a stroke either, but we won’t be in for long and we can hang on to the top.”
Henry clenched his teeth. “No. I won’t do it.”
The hobo clambered onto the ladder that ran up the side of the water tank. “I’m telling you, it ain’t safe out here. Now come on before you get us both beat up.” He scrambled up the rungs with surprising speed and disappeared over the edge.
Henry looked behind him. The guards were almost at the end of the boxcar nearest him. He had to hide, but not in that water-filled casket!
He sprinted for a tall stack of crates at the end of the narrow alley between the rows of cars. Darting behind the wooden boxes, he ducked as two burly railway policemen rounded the end of the freight car. With them was a huge dog with a hungry gleam in its beady black eyes.
Henry’s breath caught when he saw the vicious-looking beast. As the guards passed the crate where Henry and Clickety Clack had been hiding seconds before, the big dog stopped.
Its nose dropped to the ground. It sniffed a couple of times, then lifted its huge head to stare at where Henry was hiding.
Henry edged farther away as the dog padded toward him. He increased his speed as the two guards followed the dog.
Ducking under a boxcar, Henry ran to the next set of tracks and squeezed between two more cars. He snatched a look over his shoulder. Having caught his scent, the animal was now loping after him, foam-flecked drool sliding in slimy trails out of its massive jaws.
Henry sprinted to the edge of the train yard and came up against the high fence that he and Clickety Clack had found their way through earlier. Turning, he saw the animal closing on him. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide! Frantically, he dug through his book bag. His fingers closed around the remains of his food.
He tore off a piece of cheese and tossed it on the ground. The dog halted its headlong attack, sniffed the tidbit and then slopped it up. Henry held out the rest of his food. The dog stopped, lifted one paw off the ground and whiffled the air.
“Nice doggy,” Henry murmured. “Good boy, you want a tasty treat?”
The dog stepped closer. Henry waved the snack invitingly. “Then go get it!” He threw the food as far as he could, then sprinted in the opposite direction. As he crawled under a boxcar, he heard the dog scramble after his lunch. He also saw the two policemen running to where he’d been only seconds before.
Henry raced to the water tower. “Clickety Clack!” he called in a loud whisper. The old hobo’s head peered over the edge of the tank. “Come on! We’ve got to make a run for it! The dog thinks I’m a lunch wagon, and he’ll bring his two buddies with him.”
Clickety Clack was out of the water and down the ladder in a twinkling. “Come on, boy. We’ve got a train to catch!”
Squelching with every step, Clickety Clack headed toward an engine that was making its way out of the big train yard, a long parade of boxcars in tow. “Do exactly what I do and keep your feet away from the rails!” he yelled as he ran alongside the slowly moving train.
Henry’s heart pounded as the powerful steam engine shook the ground.
An open boxcar drew up alongside Clickety Clack. He tossed his bedroll in through the opening, then grabbed hold of the door edge and leapt aboard. “Jump!”
Henry looked behind him. The two policemen and the huge guard dog were closing in. The dog bared its teeth and snapped its powerful jaws as it tore after them.
Reaching up as he ran, Henry’s fingers were only inches from Clickety Clack’s outstretched arm as the train pulled away. In a last desperate effort, Henry lunged forward and clasped the hobo’s hand, and with a mighty heave, Clickety Clack yanked him through the open door.
Henry lay sprawled on the dusty wooden floor, gasping.
Clickety Clack pulled himself to his feet and spat out the open door as he waved goodbye to the posse that had been chasing them. “So long, suckers!”
Henry sighed with relief. He felt the train vibrating beneath him in a steady rhythm as it carried them west.
This was not how he’d imagined today would go, but soon he would be with his father in Alberta, and vicious dogs, angry policemen and leaping aboard moving boxcars would all be behind him.
