As he spoke the leader--now a leader no longer--threw some papers into the furnace of the locomotive. In a twinkling they were reduced to ashes. They were Federal documents. One of them was a letter from General Mitchell which, had it been found upon Andrews by the Confederates, would in itself have proved evidence enough to convict him as a spy. The men in the tender jumped to the ground. So, likewise, did George, the engineer and his assistant. Andrews remained standing in the cab. He looked like some sea captain who was waiting to sink beneath the waves in his deserted ship. He worked at the lever and touched the valve, and then leaped from his post to the roadbed. The next moment "The General" was moving backwards towards the oncoming "Texas." "We'll give them a little taste of collision!" he cried. His companions turned their eyes towards the departing "General." If the engine would only run with sufficient force into the enemy, the latter might--well, it was hard to predict what might not happen. Much depended on the next minute. There was a whistle from "The Texas." "The General" kept on to the rear, but at a slow pace. No longer did the staunch machine respond to the throttle. The fire in the furnace was burning low; there was little or no steam; the iron horse was spent and lame. The adventurers looked on, first expectantly, then gloomily. They saw that "The General" was incapacitated; they saw, too, that the enemy reversed their own engine, and ran backwards until the poor "General" came to a complete standstill. Pursuit was thus delayed, but by no means checked. "That's no good," sighed Andrews. "Come, comrades, while there is still time, and off with us in different parties. Push to the westward, and we may come up to Mitchell's forces on the other side of Chattanooga." Soon the men were running to the shelter of a neighboring wood. George seemed glued to the sight of the departing "General." He felt as if an old friend was leaving him, and so he was one of the last to move. As he, too, finally ran off, Waggie, who had been released from his master's pocket, bounded by his side as if the whole proceeding were an enjoyable picnic. When George reached the wood many of the men were already invisible. He found Watson leaning against a tree, pale and breathless. "What's the matter?" asked the boy anxiously. "Nothing," said Watson. "This rough journey over this crooked railroad has shaken me up a bit. I'll be all right in a minute. Just wait and we'll go along together. I wouldn't like to see any harm happen to you, youngster, while I have an arm to protect you. "Come on," he continued, when he had regained his breath; "we can't stay here. I wonder why Mitchell didn't push on and capture Chattanooga. Then we would not have had to desert the old engine."