The next morning they arrived at the Glenmore Dam and Reservoir Relief Project. Henry couldn’t believe he’d made it. The odds had been against him, but he hadn’t given up. Henry could have whooped out loud for joy! Tom and Huck would have been proud of him.
Henry couldn’t pull his eyes away from the huge dam. It soared in a towering concrete wall to the far side of the gorge where, one day, water would back up and cover the entire valley spread out in front of him.
The site was a hive of activity. Men toiled with picks and shovels as wheelbarrows and horse-drawn wagons trundled among the work parties. Henry wondered how he was going to find his father in all this commotion.
“Let’s go see the foreman. He’ll tell us where your pa is.” Clickety Clack started toward a small, corrugated metal building.
Once inside, Henry marched up to the desk and held out the picture of his father. “My name is Henry Dafoe and this is my father, Michael. He’s working here. Can you tell me how to find him?”
Frowning, the foreman looked at the picture, and then recognition flooded his face. “Sure! Mike Dafoe. He’s working down by the river.” The foreman looked past Henry to where Clickety Clack stood in the doorway. “You looking for a job, buddy? This is your lucky day. I can use a man on shovel detail.” He pushed a piece of paper across his desk. “Sign on the dotted line and report to the crew chief for assignment.”
Clickety Clack hefted his bedroll and shuffled his feet. “Much obliged, mister. Let me take the boy to his pa first.”
Henry and Clickety Clack walked to the edge of the high embankment overlooking the river. Henry smiled up at the old hobo who’d brought him so far and taught him so much. “This is a day to remember, Clickety Clack. A job on the dam for you and I’ll finally find my pa. Everything’s working out swell! My pa will want to meet you. You’ll like him and I know he’ll like you.” Henry couldn’t stop talking or smiling, but when he looked at Clickety Clack’s face his smile faded.
The hobo shook his head. “I don’t fit in here, Hank. This is no life for an old rod rider like me. I’ve got traveling dust in my shoes.”
“But I thought you were going to take a job here, with my pa and me.” Henry’s throat felt tight and his eyes swam. “Wait! The money I owe you!” He fumbled in his pocket and held out the crumpled bills. “Here, we agreed on five dollars cash money. Take it. You can stay in a fancy hotel for a few days. You’ll change your mind after you’ve had a hot bath and slept in a soft bed.”
Clickety Clack stared out over the valley. “You know, Hank, we knights of the road are like family, and family sticks together. You keep that money and do the right thing with it.”
Henry realized that Clickety Clack must have figured out how he’d come by the cash.
Clickety Clack was a smart old gentleman.
When he returned the money to his mother, Henry decided he would give her back double the amount he’d taken! That’s what a true knight of the road would do.
He nodded in solemn promise. Tears burned the corners of his eyes, spilling over. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Now, boy, none of that. You knew from the beginning that I rode the rails and I rode ‘em alone.” Clickety Clack gently laid his hands on Henry’s shoulders and looked down into his wet face. “Hank, I want you to know something. You were the first pardner I ever had and you’ve made me see the light. Having a great companion like you is something I could get used to.”
Henry swiped at his cheeks, embarrassed by his babyish tears. “Really?”
“Really. Why, if I hurry, I bet I can hop that freight with Fred Glass and the gang. They’re a good bunch. Now, come on.” He patted Henry on the back. “You go down and find your pa. You’ll have lots of stories to tell about High-handed Hank and old Clickety Clack.”
Henry hiccuped. “When I get home, I’m going to draw a special secret sign on my gatepost just for you.” As he imagined what the symbol might be, Clickety Clack looked at him questioningly. “Don’t worry.” Henry smiled. “You’ll know it when you see it.”
Henry knew Clickety Clack wouldn’t like it, but he gave his friend a big hug, then started down to the valley. When he reached the bottom, he turned to wave, but Clickety Clack was gone. Then he saw a lone figure walking along the rail line on the trestle bridge that crossed the river.
The unmistakable sound of a freight train whistle made Henry turn. A train had rumbled around the hill next to the construction site and was charging straight for the trestle!
Clickety Clack turned to face the oncoming locomotive.
The whistle was now a shriek as the train thundered toward the old man. Henry saw that the hobo couldn’t outrun the engine, and there was no escape on the narrow bridge. Clickety Clack was trapped!
Henry watched as his friend climbed onto the edge of the bridge and, with a heart-stopping leap, jumped into nothingness.
The helpless hobo plunged down to the swirling river below.
It was then that Henry remembered Clickety Clack couldn’t swim.
This was not how he’d imagined today would go. Everything was supposed to work out for both of them. Henry hadn’t come all this way with his friend to watch him drown.