George stood stock still. Here was danger indeed! He knew that to send a telegram up the road would be but the work of a minute; it could go over the wires to the north before the "special" had pulled away from Adairsville. At this moment the station-agent came out of his office. "The passenger is behind time," he said, and he ran quickly across the tracks to speak to Andrews, who was looking anxiously out from the cab of "The General." "It's now or never," thought George. He turned back into the deserted waiting-room, entered the ticket-office, and pulled from the belt under his inner coat a large revolver--the weapon which he carried in case self-defense became necessary. Taking the barrel of the revolver, he tried to pry up the telegraphic keyboard from the table to which it was attached. But he found this impossible to accomplish; he could secure no leverage on the instrument. He was not to be thwarted, however; so changing his tactics, he took the barrel in his hand and began to rain heavy blows upon the keys, with the butt end. In less time than it takes to describe the episode, the instrument had been rendered totally useless. "There," he said to himself, with the air of a conqueror, "it will take time to repair that damage, or to send a telegram." He was about to leave the office when he discovered a portable battery under the table. It was an instrument that could be attached to a wire, in case of emergency. George hastily picked it up, and hurried into the waiting-room. It would never do to leave this battery behind in the office; but how could he take it away without being caught in the act? His eyes wandered here and there, until they rested upon the stove. There was no fire in it. An inspiration came to him. He opened the iron door, which was large, and threw the battery into the stove. Then he closed the door, and sauntered carelessly out to the platform. The soldier and his friend were now standing at some distance from the station, on a sidewalk in front of a grocery store. They were engaged in earnest conversation. Over on the side-track, where "The General" stood, the station-agent was talking to Andrews. George joined his leader, and sprang into the cab. "From what I hear," said Andrews, "the passenger train is so much behind time that if I make fast time I can get to Calhoun before it arrives there, and wait on a siding for it to pass us." "Then why don't you move on," urged George, who happened to know how desirable it was to get away, but dared not drop any hint to his leader in the presence of the station-agent. "You're taking a risk," said the station-agent. "You may strike the train before you reach Calhoun." He was evidently not suspicious, but he feared an accident. "If I meet the train before we reach Calhoun," cried Andrews, striking his fist against the window-ledge of the cab, "why then she must back till she gets a side-track, and then we will pass her."