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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/17572-8.txt b/17572-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..53ab34f --- /dev/null +++ b/17572-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,5607 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Spike, by Cy Warman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last Spike + And Other Railroad Stories + +Author: Cy Warman + +Release Date: January 22, 2006 [EBook #17572] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST SPIKE *** + + + + +Produced by Melissa Er-Raqabi, Ted Garvin, Josephine +Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + +THE + +LAST SPIKE + +AND OTHER + +RAILROAD STORIES + +BY + +CY WARMAN + +NEW YORK +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS +1906 + + +_Copyright, 1906_, +BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +Published February, 1906 + +THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +THE LAST SPIKE 1 + +THE BELLE OF ATHABASCA 31 + +PATHFINDING IN THE NORTHWEST 49 + +THE CURÉ'S CHRISTMAS GIFT 61 + +THE MYSTERIOUS SIGNAL 85 + +CHASING THE WHITE MAIL 107 + +OPPRESSING THE OPPRESSOR 119 + +THE IRON HORSE AND THE TROLLEY 135 + +IN THE BLACK CAÑON 151 + +JACK RAMSEY'S REASON 165 + +THE GREAT WRECK ON THE PÈRE MARQUETTE 181 + +THE STORY OF AN ENGLISHMAN 193 + +ON THE LIMITED 211 + +THE CONQUEST OF ALASKA 219 + +NUMBER THREE 237 + +THE STUFF THAT STANDS 253 + +THE MILWAUKEE RUN 273 + + + + +THE LAST SPIKE + + +"Then there is nothing against him but his poverty?" + +"And general appearance." + +"He's the handsomest man in America." + +"Yes, that is against him, and the fact that he is always _in_ America. +He appears to be afraid to get out." + +"He's the bravest boy in the world," she replied, her face still to the +window. "He risked his life to drag me from under the ice," she added, +with a girl's loyalty to her hero and a woman's pride in the man she +loves. + +"Well, I must own he has nerve," her father added, "or he never would +have accepted my conditions." + +"And what where these conditions, pray?" the young woman asked, turning +and facing her father, who sat watching her every move and gesture. + +"First of all, he must do something; and do it off his own bat. His old +father spent his last dollar to educate this young rascal, to equip him +for the battle of life, and his sole achievement is a curve that nobody +can find. Now I insist he shall do something, and I have given him five +years for the work." + +"Five years!" she gasped, as she lost herself in a big chair. + +"He is to have time to forget you, and you are to have ample opportunity +to forget him, which you will doubtless do, for you are not to meet or +communicate with each other during this period of probation." + +"Did he promise this?" + +"Upon his honor." + +"And if he break that promise?" + +"Ah, then he would be without honor, and you would not marry him." A +moment's silence followed, broken by a long, deep sigh that ended in +little quivering waves, like the faint ripples that reach the +shore,--the whispered echoes of the sobbing sea. + +"O father, it is cruel! _cruel! cruel!_" she cried, raising a tearful +face to him. + +"It is justice, stern justice; to you, my dear, to myself, and this fine +young fellow who has stolen your heart. Let him show himself worthy of +you, and you have my blessing and my fortune." + +"Is he going soon?" + +"He is gone." + +The young woman knelt by her father's chair and bowed her head upon his +knee, quivering with grief. + +This stern man, who had humped himself and made a million, put a hand on +her head and said: + +"Ma-Mary"--and then choked up. + + +II + +The tent boy put a small white card down on General Dodge's desk one +morning, upon which was printed: + + J. BRADFORD, C.E. + +The General, who was at that time chief engineer in charge of the +construction of the first Pacific Railroad, turned the bit of pasteboard +over. It seemed so short and simple. He ran his eyes over a printed +list, alphabetically arranged, of directors, promoters, statesmen, +capitalists, and others who were in the habit of signing "letters of +recommendation" for young men who wanted to do something and begin well +up the ladder. + +There were no Bradfords. Burgess and Blodgett were the only B's, and the +General was glad. His desk was constantly littered with the "letters" of +tenderfeet, and his office-tent filled with their portmanteaus, holding +dress suits and fine linen. + +Here was a curiosity--a man with no press notices, no character, only +one initial and two chasers. + +"Show him in," said the General, addressing the one luxury his hogan +held. A few moments later the chief engineer was looking into the eye of +a young man, who returned the look and asked frankly, and without +embarrassment, for work with the engineers. + +"Impossible, young man--full up," was the brief answer. + +"Now," thought the General, "he'll begin to beat his breast and haul out +his 'pull.'" The young man only smiled sadly, and said, "I'm sorry. I +saw an 'ad' for men in the _Bee_ yesterday, and hoped to be in time," he +added, rising. + +"Men! Yes, we want men to drive mules and stakes, to grade, lay track, +and fight Indians--but engineers? We've got 'em to use for cross-ties." + +"I am able and willing to do any of these things--except the +Indians--and I'll tackle that if nothing else offers." + +"There's a man for you," said the General to his assistant as Bradford +went out with a note to Jack Casement, who was handling the graders, +teamsters, and Indian fighters. "No influential friends, no baggage, no +character, just a man, able to stand alone--a real man in corduroys and +flannels." + +Coming up to the gang, Bradford singled out the man who was swearing +loudest and delivered the note. "Fall in," said the straw boss, and +Bradford got busy. He could handle one end of a thirty-foot rail with +ease, and before night, without exciting the other workmen or making any +show of superiority, he had quietly, almost unconsciously, become the +leader of the track-laying gang. The foreman called Casement's +attention to the new man, and Casement watched him for five minutes. + +Two days later a big teamster, having found a bottle of fire-water, +became separated from his reasoning faculties, crowded under an old +dump-cart, and fell asleep. + +"Say, young fellow," said the foreman, panting up the grade to where +Bradford was placing a rail, "can you skin mules?" + +"I can drive a team, if that's what you mean," was the reply. + +"How many?" + +"Well," said Bradford, with his quiet smile, "when I was a boy I used to +drive six on the Montpelier stage." + +So he took the eight-mule team and amazed the multitude by hauling +heavier loads than any other team, because he knew how to handle his +whip and lines, and because he was careful and determined to succeed. +Whatever he did he did it with both hands, backed up by all the +enthusiasm of youth and the unconscious strength of an absolutely +faultless physique, and directed by a remarkably clear brain. When the +timekeeper got killed, Bradford took his place, for he could "read +writin'," an accomplishment rare among the laborers. When the bookkeeper +got drunk he kept the books, working overtime at night. + +In the rush and roar of the fight General Dodge had forgotten the young +man in corduroys until General Casement called his attention to the +young man's work. The engineers wanted Bradford, and Casement had +kicked, and, fearing defeat, had appealed to the chief. They sent for +Bradford. Yes, he was an engineer, he said, and when he said it they +knew it was true. He was quite willing to remain in the store department +until he could be relieved, but, naturally, he would prefer field work. + +He got it, and at once. Also, he got some Indian fighting. In less than +a year he was assigned to the task of locating a section of the line +west of the Platte. Coming in on a construction train to make his first +report, the train was held up, robbed, and burned by a band of Sioux. +Bradford and the train crew were rescued by General Dodge himself, who +happened to be following them with his "arsenal" car, and who heard at +Plumb Creek of the fight and of the last stand that Bradford and his +handful of men were making in the way car, which they had detached and +pushed back from the burning train. Such cool heroism as Bradford +displayed here could not escape the notice of so trained an Indian +fighter as General Dodge. Bradford was not only complimented, but was +invited into the General's private car. The General's admiration for the +young pathfinder grew as he received a detailed and comprehensive report +of the work being done out on the pathless plains. He knew the worth of +this work, because he knew the country, for he had spent whole months +together exploring it while in command of that territory, where he had +been purposely placed by General Sherman, without whose encouragement +the West could not have been known at that time, and without whose help +as commander-in-chief of the United States army the road could not have +been built. + +As the pathfinders neared the Rockies the troops had to guard them +constantly. The engineers reconnoitered, surveyed, located, and built +inside the picket lines. The men marched to work to the tap of the drum, +stacked arms on the dump, and were ready at a moment's notice to fall +in and fight. Many of the graders were old soldiers, and a little fight +only rested them. Indeed there was more military air about this work +than had been or has since been about the building of a railroad in this +country. It was one big battle, from the first stake west of Omaha to +the last spike at Promontory--a battle that lasted five long years; and +if the men had marked the graves of those who fell in that fierce fight +their monuments, properly distributed, might have served as mile-posts +on the great overland route to-day. But the mounds were unmarked, most +of them, and many there were who had no mounds, and whose home names +were never known even to their comrades. If this thing had been done on +British soil, and all the heroic deeds had been recorded and rewarded, a +small foundry could have been kept busy beating out V.C.'s. They could +not know, these silent heroes fighting far out in the wilderness, what a +glorious country they were conquering--what an empire they were opening +for all the people of the land. Occasionally there came to the men at +the front old, worn newspapers, telling wild stories of the failure of +the enterprise. At other times they heard of changes in the Board of +Directors, the election of a new President, tales of jobs and looting, +but they concerned themselves only with the work in hand. No breath of +scandal ever reached these pioneer trail-makers, or, if it did, it +failed to find a lodging-place, but blew by. Ample opportunity they had +to plunder, to sell supplies to the Indians or the Mormons, but no one +of the men who did the actual work of bridging the continent has ever +been accused of a selfish or dishonest act. + +During his second winter of service Bradford slept away out in the +Rockies, studying the snowslides and drifts. For three winters they did +this, and in summer they set stakes, keeping one eye out for Indians and +the other for wash-outs, and when, after untold hardships, privation, +and youth-destroying labor, they had located a piece of road, out of the +path of the slide and the washout, a well-groomed son of a politician +would come up from the Capital, and, in the capacity of Government +expert, condemn it all. Then strong men would eat their whiskers and the +weaker ones would grow blasphemous and curse the country that afforded +no facilities for sorrow-drowning. + +Once, at the end of a long, hard winter, when spring and the Sioux came, +they found Bradford and a handful of helpers just breaking camp in a +sheltered hollow in the hills. Hiding in the crags, the warriors waited +until Bradford went out alone to try to shoot a deer, and incidentally +to sound a drift, and then they surrounded him. He fought until his gun +was unloaded, and then emptied his revolver; but ever dodging and +crouching from tree to rock, the red men, whose country he and his +companions had invaded, came nearer and nearer. In a little while the +fight was hand to hand. There was not the faintest show for escape; to +be taken alive was to be tortured to death, so he fought on, clubbing +his revolver until a well-directed blow from a war club caught the gun, +sent it whirling through the top of a nearby cedar, and left the +pathfinder empty-handed. The chief sprang forward and lifted his hatchet +that had caused more than one paleface to bite the dust. For the +faintest fraction of a second it stood poised above Bradford's head, +then out shot the engineer's strong right arm, and the Indian lay flat +six feet away. + +For a moment the warriors seemed helpless with mingled awe and +admiration, but when Bradford stooped to grab his empty rifle they came +out of their trance. A dull blow, a sense of whirling round swiftly, a +sudden sunset, stars--darkness, and all pain had gone! + + +III + +When Bradford came to they were fixing him for the fun. His back was +against a tree, his feet pinioned, and his elbows held secure by a +rawhide rope. He knew what it meant. He knew by the look of joy on the +freshly smeared faces at his waking, by the pitch-pine wood that had +been brought up, and by the fagots at his feet. The big chief who had +felt his fist came up, grinning, and jabbed a buckhorn cactus against +the engineer's thigh, and when the latter tried to move out of reach +they all grunted and danced with delight. They had been uneasy lest the +white man might not wake. + +The sun, sailing westward in a burnished sea of blue, seemed to stand +still for a moment and then dropped down behind the range, as if to +escape from the hellish scene. The shadows served only to increase the +gloom in the heart of the captive. Glancing over his shoulder toward the +east, he observed that his captors had brought him down near to the edge +of the plain. Having satisfied themselves that their victim had plenty +of life left in him, the Indians began to arrange the fuel. With the +return of consciousness came an inexpressible longing to live. Suddenly +his iron will asserted itself, and appealing to his great strength, +surged until the rawhide ropes were buried in his flesh. Not for a +moment while he stood on his feet and fought them on the morning of that +day had hope entirely deserted him. Four years of hardship, of +privation, and adventure had so strengthened his courage that to give up +was to die. + +Presently, when he had exhausted his strength and sat quietly, the +Indians went on with the preliminaries. The gold in the west grew +deeper, the shadows in the foothills darker, as the moments sped. +Swiftly the captive's mind ran over the events of the past four years. +This was his first failure, and this was the end of it all--of the +years of working and waiting. + +Clenching his fists, he lifted his hot face to the dumb sky, but no +sound escaped from his parched and parted lips. Suddenly a light shone +on the semicircle of feather-framed faces in front of him, and he heard +the familiar crackling of burning boughs. Glancing toward the ground he +saw that the fagots were on fire. He felt the hot breath of flame, and +then for the first time realized what torture meant. Again he surged, +and surged again, the cedars crackled, the red fiends danced. Another +effort, the rawhide parted and he stood erect. With both hands freed he +felt new strength, new hope. He tried to free himself from the pyre, but +his feet were fettered, and he fell among his captors. Two or three of +them seized him, but he shook them off and stood up again. + +But it was useless. From every side the Indians rushed upon him and bore +him to the ground. Still he fought and struggled, and as he fought the +air seemed full of strange, wild sounds, of shouts and shots and +hoof-beating on the dry, hard earth. He seemed to see, as through a +veil, scores of Indians, Indians afoot and on horseback, naked Indians +and Indians in soldier clothes. Once he thought he saw a white face +gleam just as he got to his feet, but at that moment the big chief stood +before him, his battle-axe uplifted. The engineer's head was whirling. +Instinctively he tried to use the strong right arm, but it had lost its +cunning. The roar of battle grew apace, the axe descended, the left arm +went up and took the blow of the handle, but the edge of the weapon +reached over and split the white man's chin. As he fell heavily to the +earth the light went out again. + + * * * * * + +Save for the stars that stood above him it was still dark when Bradford +woke. He felt blankets beneath him, and asked in a whisper: "Who's +here?" + +"Major North, me call him," said the Pawnee scout, who was watching over +the wounded man. + +A moment later the gallant Major was leaning over Bradford, encouraging +him, assuring him that he was all right, but warning him of the danger +of making the least bit of noise. + + +IV + +With all his strength and pluck, it took time for Bradford to +recuperate. His next work was in Washington, where, with notes and maps, +his strong personality and logical arguments, he caused the Government +to overrule an expert who wanted to change an important piece of road, +and who had arbitrarily fixed the meeting of the mountains and plains +far up in the foothills.[1] + +When Bradford returned to the West he found that the whole country had +suddenly taken a great and growing interest in the transcontinental +line. Many of the leading newspapers had dug up their old war +correspondents and sent them out to the front. + +These gifted prevaricators found the plain, unvarnished story of each +day's work as much as they cared to send in at night, for the builders +were now putting down four and five miles of road every working day. +Such road building the world had never seen, and news of it now ran +round the earth. At night these tireless story-tellers listened to the +strange tales told by the trail-makers, then stole away to their tents +and wrote them out for the people at home, while the heroes of the +stories slept. + +The track-layers were now climbing up over the crest of the continent, +the locaters were dropping down the Pacific slope, with the prowling +pathfinders peeping over into the Utah Valley. Before the road reached +Salt Lake City the builders were made aware of the presence, power, and +opposition of Brigham Young. The head of the church had decreed that the +road must pass to the south of the lake, and as the Central Pacific had +surveyed a line that way, and General Dodge had declared in favor of the +northern route, the Mormons threw their powerful influence to the +Southern. The Union Pacific was boycotted, and all good Mormons +forbidden to aid the road in any way. + +Here, again, the chief engineer brought Bradford's diplomacy to bear on +Brigham and won him over. + +While the Union Pacific was building west, the Central Pacific had been +building east, and here, in the Salt Lake basin, the advance forces of +the two companies met. The United States Congress directed that the +rails should be joined wherever the two came together, but the bonus +($32,000 to the mile) left a good margin to the builders in the valley, +so, instead of joining the rails, the pathfinders only said "Howdy do!" +and then "Good-bye!" and kept going. The graders followed close upon the +heels of the engineers, so that by the time the track-layers met the two +grades paralleled each other for a distance of two hundred miles. When +the rails actually met, the Government compelled the two roads to couple +up. It had been a friendly contest that left no bad blood. Indeed they +were all willing to stop, for the iron trail was open from the Atlantic +to the Pacific. + + +V + +The tenth day of May, 1869, was the date fixed for the driving of the +last spike and the official opening of the line. Special trains, +carrying prominent railway and Government officials, were hurrying out +from the East, while up from the Golden Gate came another train +bringing the flower of 'Frisco to witness, and some of them to take an +active part in, the celebration. The day was like twenty-nine other May +days that month in the Salt Lake Valley, fair and warm, but with a cool +breeze blowing over the sagebrush. The dusty army of trail-makers had +been resting for two days, waiting for the people to come in clean store +clothes, to make speeches, to eat and drink, and drive the golden spike. +Some Chinese laborers had opened a temporary laundry near the camp, and +were coining money washing faded blue overalls for their white comrades. +Many of the engineers and foremen had dressed up that morning, and a few +had fished out a white shirt. Judah and Strawbridge, of the Central, had +little chips of straw hats that had been harvested in the summer of '65. +Here and there you saw a sombrero, the wide hat of the cowboy, and the +big, soft, shapeless head cover of the Mormon, with a little bunch of +whiskers on his chin. General Dodge came from his arsenal car, that +stood on an improvised spur, in a bright, new uniform. Of the special +trains, that of Governor Stanford was first to arrive, with its +straight-stacked locomotive and Celestial servants. Then the U.P. engine +panted up, with its burnished bands and balloon stack, that reminded you +of the skirts the women wore, save that it funnelled down. When the +ladies began to jump down, the cayuses of the cowboys began to snort and +side-step, for they had seen nothing like these tents the women stood up +in. + +Elaborate arrangements had been made for transmitting the news of the +celebration to the world. All the important telegraph offices of the +country were connected with Promontory, Utah, that day, so that the blow +of the hammer driving the last spike was communicated by the click of +the instrument to every office reached by the wires. From the Atlantic +to the Pacific the people were rejoicing and celebrating the event, but +the worn heroes who had dreamed it over and over for five years, while +they lay in their blankets with only the dry, hard earth beneath them, +seemed unable to realize that the work was really done and that they +could now go home, those who had homes to go to, eat soft bread, and +sleep between sheets. + +Out under an awning, made by stretching a blanket between a couple of +dump-carts, Bradford lay, reading a 'Frisco paper that had come by +Governor Stanford's special; but even that failed to hold his thoughts. +His heart was away out on the Atlantic coast, and he would be hurrying +that way on the morrow, the guest of the chief engineer. He had lost his +mother when a boy, and his father just a year previous to his +banishment, but he had never lost faith in the one woman he had loved, +and he had loved her all his life, for they had been playmates. Now all +this fuss about driving the last spike was of no importance to him. The +one thing he longed for, lived for, was to get back to "God's country." +He heard the speeches by Governor Stanford for the Central, and General +Dodge for the Union Pacific; heard the prayer offered up by the Rev. Dr. +Todd, of Pittsfield; heard the General dictate to the operator: + +"All ready," and presently the operator sang out the reply from the far +East: + +"All ready here!" and then the silver hammer began beating the golden +spike into the laurel tie, which bore a silver plate, upon which was +engraved: + + "The Last Tie + Laid in the Completion of the Pacific + Railroads. + May 10, 1869." + +After the ceremony there was handshaking among the men and some kissing +among the women, as the two parties--one from either coast--mingled, and +then the General's tent boy came under the blanket to call Bradford, for +the General wanted him at once. Somehow Bradford's mind flew back to his +first meeting with this boy. He caught the boy by the arms, held him +off, and looked at him. "Say, boy," he asked, "have I changed as much as +you have? Why, only the other day you were a freckled beauty in +high-water trousers. You're a man now, with whiskers and a busted lip. +Say, have I changed, too?" + +"Naw; you're just the same," said the boy. "Come now, the Gen's +waitin'." + +"Judge Manning," said General Dodge, in his strong, clear voice, "you +have been calling us 'heroes'; now I want to introduce the one hero of +all this heroic band--the man who has given of muscle and brain all that +a magnificent and brilliant young man could give, and who deserves the +first place on the roll of honor among the great engineers of our time." + +As the General pronounced the Judge's name Bradford involuntarily +clenched his fists and stepped back. The Judge turned slowly, looking +all the while at the General, thrilled by his eloquent earnestness, and +catching something of the General's admiration for so eminent a man. + +"Mr. Bradford," the General concluded, "this is Judge Manning, of +Boston, who came to our rescue financially and helped us to complete +this great work to which you have so bravely and loyally contributed." + +"Mr. _Bradford_, did you say?" + +"Well, yes. He's only Jim Bradford out here, where we are in a hurry, +but he'll be Mr. Bradford in Boston, and the biggest man in town when he +gets back." + +All nervousness had gone from Bradford, and he looked steadily into the +strong face before him. + +"Jim Bradford," the millionnaire repeated, still holding the engineer's +hand. + +"Yes, Judge Manning, I'm Jim Bradford," said the bearded pathfinder, +trying to smile and appear natural. + +Suddenly realizing that some explanation was due the General, the Judge +turned and said, but without releasing the engineer's hand: "Why, I know +this young man--knew his father. We were friends from boyhood." + +Slowly he returned his glance to Bradford. "Will you come into my car in +an hour from now?" he asked. + +"Thank you," said Bradford, nodding, and with a quick, simultaneous +pressure of hands, the two men parted. + + +VI + +Bradford has often since felt grateful to the Judge for that five years' +sentence, but never has he forgotten the happy thought that prompted the +capitalist to give him this last hour, in which to get into a fresh suit +and have his beard trimmed. Bradford wore a beard always now, not +because a handsome beard makes a handsome man handsomer, but because it +covered and hid the hideous scar in his chin that had been carved there +by the Sioux chief. + +When the black porter bowed and showed Bradford into Mr. Manning's +private car, the pleasure of their late meeting and the Judge's kindly +greeting vanished instantly. It was all submerged and swept away, +obliterated and forgotten in the great wave of inexpressible joy that +now filled and thrilled his throbbing heart, for it was Mary Manning who +came forward to greet him. For nearly an hour she and her father had +been listening to the wonderful story of the last five years of the +engineer's life. When the wily General caught the drift of the young +lady's mind, and had been informed of the conditional engagement of the +young people, he left nothing unsaid that would add to the fame and +glory of the trail-maker. With radiant face she heard of his heroism, +tireless industry, and wonderful engineering feats; but when the +narrator came to tell how he had been captured and held and tortured by +the Indians, she slipped her trembling hand into the hand of her +father, and when he saw her hot tears falling he lifted the hand and +kissed it, leaving upon it tears of his own. + +The Judge now produced his cigar case, and the General, bowing to the +young lady, followed the great financier to the other end of the car, +leaving Mary alone, for they had seen Bradford coming up the track. + +The dew of her sweet sorrow was still upon her face when Bradford +entered, but the sunshine of her smile soon dried it up. The hands he +reached for escaped him. They were about his face; then their great joy +and the tears it brought blinded them, and the wild beating of their +happy hearts drowned their voices so that they could neither see nor +hear, and neither has ever been able to say just what happened. + +On the day following this happy meeting, when the consolidated special +was rolling east-ward, while the Judge and the General smoked in the +latter's car, the tent boy brought a telegram back to the happy pair. It +was delivered to Miss Manning, and she read it aloud: + + "WASHINGTON, May 11, 1869. + + "GENERAL G.M. DODGE: + +"In common with millions I sat yesterday and heard the mystic taps of +the telegraph battery announce the nailing of the last spike in the +Great Pacific Road. All honor to you, to Durant, to Jack and Dan +Casement, to Reed and the thousands of brave followers who have wrought +out this glorious problem, spite of changes, storms, and even doubts of +the incredulous, and all the obstacles you have now happily surmounted! + + "W.T. SHERMAN, + + "_General_." + +"Well!" she exclaimed, letting her hands and the telegram fall in her +lap, "he doesn't even mention my hero." + +"Oh, yes, he does, my dear," said Bradford, laughing. "I'm one of the +'thousands of brave followers.'" + +Then they both laughed and forgot it, for they were too happy to bother +with trifles. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: The subsidy from the Government was $16,000 a mile on the +plains, and $48,000 a mile in the mountains.] + + + + +THE BELLE OF ATHABASCA + + +Athabasca Belle did not burst upon Smith the Silent all at once, like a +rainbow or a sunrise in the desert. He would never say she had been +thrust upon him. She was acquired, he said, in an unguarded moment. + +The trouble began when Smith was pathfinding on the upper Athabasca for +the new transcontinental. Among his other assets Smith had two camp +kettles. One was marked with the three initials of the new line, which, +at that time, existed only on writing material, empty pots, and equally +empty parliamentary perorations. The other was not marked at all. It was +the personal property of Jaquis, who cooked for Smith and his outfit. +The Belle was a fine looking Cree--tall, strong, _magnifique_. Jaquis +warmed to her from the start, but the Belle was not for Jaquis, himself +a Siwash three to one. She scarcely looked at him, and answered him +only when he asked if she'd _encore_ the pork and beans. But she looked +at Smith. She would sit by the hour, her elbow on her knee and her chin +in her hand, watching him wistfully, while he drew crazy, crooked lines +or pictured mountains with rivers running between them--all of which, +from the Belle's point of view, was not only a waste of time, but had +absolutely nothing to do with the case. + +The Belle and her brown mother came to the camp of the Silent first one +glorious morn in the moon of August, with a basket of wild berries and a +pair of beaded moccasins. Smith bought both--the berries for Jaquis, out +of which he built strange pies, and the moccasins for himself. He called +them his night slippers, but as a matter of fact there was no night on +the Athabasca at that time. The day was divided into three shifts, one +long and two short ones,--daylight, dusk, and dawn. So it was daylight +when the Belle first fixed her large dark eyes upon the strong, handsome +face of Smith the Silent, as he sat on his camp stool, bent above a map +he was making. Belle's mother, being old in years and unafraid, came +close, looked at the picture for a moment, and exclaimed: "Him Jasper +Lake," pointing up the Athabasca. + +"You know Jasper Lake?" asked the engineer, glancing up for the first +time. + +"_Oui_," said the old woman (Belle's step-father was half French); "know +'im ver' well." + +Smith looked her over as a matter of habit, for he allowed no man or +woman to get by him with the least bit of information concerning the +country through which his imaginary line lay. Then he glanced at Belle +for fully five seconds, then back to his blue print. Nobody but a +he-nun, or a man already wedded to the woods, could do that, but to the +credit of the camp it will go down that the chief was the only man in +the outfit who failed to feel her presence. As for Jaquis, the alloyed +Siwash, he carried the scar of that first meeting for six months, and +may, for aught I know, take it with him to his little swinging grave. +Even Smith remembers to this day how she looked, standing there on her +two trim ankles, that disappeared into her hand-turned sandals or faded +in the flute and fringe of her fawn skin skirt. Her full bosom rose and +fell, and you could count the beat of her wild heart in the throb of +her throat. Her cheeks showed a faint flush of red through the dark +olive,--the flush of health and youth,--her nostrils dilated, like those +of an Ontario high-jumper, as she drank life from the dewy morn, while +her eye danced with the joy of being alive. Jaquis sized and summed her +up in the one word "magnific." But in that moment, when she caught the +keen, piercing eye of the engineer, the Belle had a stroke that comes +sooner or later to all these wild creatures of the wilderness, but comes +to most people but once in a lifetime. She never forgot the gleam of +that one glance, though the Silent one was innocent enough. + +It was during the days that followed, when she sat and watched him at +his work, or followed him for hours in the mountain fastnesses, that the +Belle of Athabasca lost her heart. + +When he came upon a bit of wild scenery and stopped to photograph it, +the Belle stood back of him, watching his every movement, and when he +passed on she followed, keeping always out of sight. + +The Belle's mother haunted him. As often as he broke camp and climbed a +little higher upstream, the brown mother moved also, and with her the +Belle. + +"What does this old woman want?" asked the engineer of Jaquis one +evening when, returning to his tent, he found the fat Cree and her +daughter camping on his trail. + +"She want that pot," said Jaquis. + +"Then for the love of We-sec-e-gea, god of the Crees," said Smith, "give +it into her hands and bid her begone." + +Jaquis did as directed, and the old Indian went away, but she left the +girl. + +The next day Smith started on a reconnoissance that would occupy three +or four days. As he never knew himself when he would return, he never +took the trouble to inform Jaquis, the tail of the family. + +After breakfast the Belle went over to her mother's. She would have +lunched with her mother from the much coveted kettle, but the Belle's +mother told her that she should return to the camp of the white man, who +was now her lord and master. So the Belle went back and lunched with +Jaquis, who otherwise must have lunched alone. Jaquis tried to keep her, +and wooed her in his half-wild way; but to her sensitive soul he was +repulsive. Moreover, she felt that in some mysterious manner her mother +had transferred her, together with her love and allegiance, to Smith the +Silent, and to him she must be true. Therefore she returned to the Cree +camp. + +As the sinking sun neared the crest of the Rockies, the young Indian +walked back to the engineer's camp. As she strode along the new trail +she plucked wildflowers by the wayside and gathered leaves and wove them +into vari-colored wreaths, swinging along with the easy grace of a wild +deer. + +Now some women would say she had not much to make her happy, but she was +happy nevertheless. She loved a man--to her the noblest, most god-like +creature of his kind,--and she was happy in abandoning herself to him. +She had lived in this love so long, had felt and seen it grow from +nothing to something formidable, then to something fine, until now it +filled her and thrilled her; it overspread everything, outran her +thoughts, brought the far-off mountains nearer, shortened the trail +between her camp and his, gave a new glow to the sunset, a new glory to +the dawn and a fresher fragrance to the wildflowers; the leaves +whispered to her, the birds came, nearer and sang sweeter; in short it +was her life--the sunshine of her soul. And that's the way a wild woman +loves. + +And she was to see him soon. Perhaps he would speak to her, or smile on +her. If only he gave a passing glance she would be glad and content to +know that he was near. Alas, he came not at all. She watched with the +stars through the short night, slept at dawn, and woke to find Jaquis +preparing the morning meal. She thought to question Jaquis, but her +interest in the engineer, and the growing conviction that his own star +sank as his master's rose, rendered him unsafe as a companion to a young +bride whose husband was in the hills and unconscious of the fact that he +was wedded to anything save the wilderness and his work. + +Jaquis not only refused to tell her where the engineer was operating, +but promised to strangle her if she mentioned his master's name again. + +At last the long day died, the sunset was less golden, and the stars +sang sadder than they sang the day before. She watched the west, into +which he had gone and out of which she hoped he might return to her. +Another round of dusk and dawn and there came another day, with its +hours that hung like ages. When she sighed her mother scolded and Jaquis +swore. When at last night came to curtain the hills, she stole out under +the stars and walked and walked until the next day dawned. A lone wolf +howled to his kith, but they were not hungry and refused to answer his +call. Often, in the dark, she fancied she heard faint, feline footsteps +behind her. Once a big black bear blocked her trail, staring at her with +lifted muzzle wet with dew and stained with berry juice. She did not +faint nor scream nor stay her steps, but strode on. Now nearer and +nearer came the muffled footsteps behind her. The black bear backed from +the trail and kept backing, pivoting slowly, like a locomotive on a +turntable, and as she passed on, stood staring after her, his small eyes +blinking in babylike bewilderment. And so through the dusk and dark and +dawn this love-mad maiden walked the wilderness, innocent of arms, and +with no one near to protect her save the little barefooted bowman whom +the white man calls the God of Love. + +Meanwhile away to the west, high in the hills, where the Findlay flowing +into the Pine makes the Peace, then cutting through the crest of the +continent makes a path for the Peace, Smith and his little army, +isolated, remote, with no cable connecting them with the great cities of +civilization, out of touch with the telegraph, away from the war +correspondent, with only the music of God's rills for a regimental band, +were battling bravely in a war that can end only with the conquest of a +wilderness. Ah, these be the great generals--these unheralded heroes +who, while the smoke of slaughter smudges the skies and shadows the sun, +wage a war in which they kill only time and space, and in the end, +without despoiling the rest of the world, win homes for the homeless. +These are the heroes of the Anglo-Saxon race. + + * * * * * + +Finding no trace of the trail-makers, the Belle faced the rising sun and +sought the camp of the Crees. + +The mysterious shadow with the muffled tread, that had followed her +from the engineer's camp, shrank back into the bush as she passed down +the trail. That was Jaquis. He watched her as she strode by him, +uncertain as to whether he loved or hated her, for well he knew why she +walked the wilderness all night alone. Now the Gitche in his unhappy +heart made him long to lift her in his arms and carry her to camp, and +then the bad god, Mitche, would assert himself and say to the savage +that was in him, "Go, kill her. She despises her race and flings herself +at the white man's feet." And so, impelled by passion and stayed by +love, he followed her. The white man within him made him ashamed of his +skulking, and the Indian that was in him guided him around her and home +by a shorter trail. + +That night the engineers returned, and when Smith saw the Cree in the +camp he jumped on Jaquis furiously. + +"Why do you keep this woman here?" he demanded. + +"I--keep? Me?" quoth Jaquis, blinking as bewildered as the black bear +had blinked at the Belle. + +"Who but you?--you heathen!" hissed the engineer. + +Now Jaquis, calling up the ghosts of his dead sires, asserted that it +was the engineer himself who was "keeping" the Cree. "You bought +her--she's yours," said Jaquis, in the presence of the company. + +"You ill-bred ----" Smith choked, and reached for a tent prop. The next +moment his hand was at the Indian's throat. With a quick twist of his +collar band he shut off the Siwash's wind, choking him to the earth. + +"What do you mean?" he demanded, and Jaquis, coughing, put up his hands. +"I meant no lie," said he. "Did you not give to her mother the camp +kettle? She has it, marked G.T.P." + +"And what of that?" + +"_Voilà_," said Jaquis, "because of that she gave to you the Belle of +Athabasca." + +Smith dropped his stick, releasing the Indian. + +"I did not mean she is sold to you. She is trade--trade for the empty +pot, the Belle--the beautiful. From yesterday to this day she followed +you, far, very far, to the foot of the Grande Côte, and nothing harmed +her. The mountain lion looked on her in terror, the timber wolf took to +the hills, the black bear backed from the trail and let her pass in +peace," said Jaquis, with glowing enthusiasm. It was the first time he +had talked of her, save to the stars and to We-sec-e-gea, and he glowed +and grew eloquent in praise of her. + +"You take her," said Smith, with one finger levelled at the head of the +cook, "to the camp of the Crees. Say to her mother that your master is +much obliged for the beautiful gift, but he's too busy to get married +and too poor to support a wife." + + * * * * * + +From the uttermost rim of the ring of light that came from the +flickering fire la Belle the beautiful heard and saw all that had passed +between the two men. She did not throw herself at the feet of the white +man. Being a wild woman she did not weep nor cry out with the pain of +his words, that cut like cold steel into her heart. She leaned against +an aspen tree, stroking her throat with her left hand, swallowing with +difficulty. Slowly from her girdle she drew a tiny hunting-knife, her +one weapon, and toyed with it. She put the hilt to the tree, the point +to her bare breast, and breathed a prayer to We-sec-e-gea, god of the +Crees. She had only to throw the weight of her beautiful body on the +blade, sink without a moan to the moss, and pass, leaving the camp +undisturbed. + +Smith marked the faintest hint of sarcasm in the half smile of the +Indian as he turned away. + +"Come here," he cried. Jaquis approached cautiously. "Now, you skulking +son of a Siwash, this is to be skin for skin. If any harm comes to that +young Cree you go to your little hammock in the hemlocks--you +understand?" + +"_Oui, Monsieur_," said Jaquis. + +"Very well, then; remember--skin for skin." + +Now to the Belle, watching from her shelter in the darkness, there was +something splendid in this. To hear her praises sung by the Siwash, then +to have the fair god, who had heard that story, champion her, to take +the place of her protector, was all new to her. "Ah, good God," she +sighed; "it is better, a thousand times better, to love and lose him +than to waste one's life, never knowing this sweet agony." + +She felt in a vague way that she was soaring above the world and its +woes. At times, in the wild tumult of her tempestuous soul, she seemed +to be borne beyond it all, through beautiful worlds. Love, for her, had +taken on great white wings, and as he wafted her out of the wilderness +and into her heaven, his talons tore into her heart and hurt like hell, +yet she could rejoice because of the exquisite pleasure that surpassed +the pain. + +"Sweet We-sec-e-gea," she sighed, "good god of my dead, I thank thee for +the gift of this great love that stays the steel when my aching heart +yearns for it. I shall not destroy myself and distress him, disturbing +him in his great work, whatever it is; but live--live and love him, even +though he send me away." + +She kissed the burnished blade and returned it to her belt. + +When Jaquis, circling the camp, failed to find her, he guessed that she +was gone, and hurried after her along the dim, starlit trail. When he +had overtaken her, they walked on together. Jaquis tried now to renew +his acquaintance with the handsome Cree and to make love to her. She +heard him in absolute silence. Finally, as they were nearing the Cree +camp, he taunted her with having been rejected by the white man. + +"And my shame is yours," said she softly. "I love him; he sends me away. +You love me; I send you from me--it is the same." + +Jaquis, quieted by this simple statement, said good-night and returned +to the tents, where the pathfinders were sleeping peacefully under the +stars. + +And over in the Cree camp the Belle of Athabasca, upon her bed of +boughs, slept the sleep of the innocent, dreaming sweet dreams of her +fair god, and through them ran a low, weird song of love, and in her +dream Love came down like a beautiful bird and bore her out of this life +and its littleness, and though his talons tore at her heart and hurt, +yet was she happy because of the exquisite pleasure that surpassed all +pain. + + + + +PATHFINDING IN THE NORTHWEST + + +It was summer when my friend Smith, whose real name is Jones, heard that +the new transcontinental line would build by the way of Peace River Pass +to the Pacific. He immediately applied, counting something, no doubt, on +his ten years of field work in Washington, Oregon, and other western +states, and five years pathfinding in Canada. + +The summer died; the hills and rills and the rivers slept, but while +they slept word came to my friend Smith the Silent, and he hurriedly +packed his sleds and set out. + +His orders were, like the orders of Admiral Dewey, to do certain +things--not merely to try. He was to go out into the northern night +called winter, feel his way up the Athabasca, over the Smoky, follow the +Peace River, and find the pass through the Rockies. + +If the simple story of that winter campaign could be written out it +would be finer than fiction. But it will never be. Only Smith the +Silent knows, and he won't tell. + +Sometimes, over the pipe, he forgets and gives me glimpses into the +winter camp, with the sun going out like a candle: the hastily made camp +with the half-breed spotting the dry wood against the coming moment when +night would drop over the forest like a curtain over a stage; the +"lean-to" between the burning logs, where he dozes or dreams, barely +beyond the reach of the flames; the silence all about, Jaquis pulling at +his pipe, and the huskies sleeping in the snow like German babies under +the eiderdown. Sometimes, out of the love of bygone days, he tells of +long toilsome journeys with the sun hiding behind clouds out of which an +avalanche of snow falls, with nothing but the needle to tell where he +hides; of hungry dogs and half starved horses, and lakes and rivers +fifty and a hundred miles out of the way. + +Once, he told me, he sent an engineer over a low range to spy out a +pass. By the maps and other data they figured that he would be gone +three days, but a week went by and no word from the pathfinder. Ten days +and no news. On the thirteenth day, when Smith was preparing to go in +search of the wanderer, the running gear of the man and the framework of +the dogs came into camp. He was able to smile and say to Smith that he +had been ten days without food, save a little tea. For the dogs he had +had nothing. + +A few days rest and they were on the trail again, or on the "go" rather; +and you might know that disciple of Smith the Silent six months or six +years before he would, unless you worked him, refer to that ten days' +fast. They think no more of that than a Jap does of dying. It's all in +the day's work. + +Suddenly, Smith said, the sun swung north, the days grew longer. The sun +grew hot and the snow melted on the south hills; the hushed rivers, +rending their icy bonds, went roaring down to the Lakes and out towards +the Arctic Ocean. And lo, suddenly, like the falling of an Arctic night, +the momentary spring passed and it was summer time. + +Then it was that Smith came into Edmonton to make his first report, and +here we met for the first time for many snows. + +Joyously, as a boy kicks the cover off on circus morning, this Northland +flings aside her winter wraps and stands forth in her glorious garb of +summer. The brooklets murmur, the rivers sing, and by their banks and +along the lakes waterfowl frolic, and overhead glad birds, that seem to +have dropped from the sky, sing joyfully the almost endless song of +summer. At the end of the long day, when the sun, as if to make up for +its absence, lingers, loath to leave us in the twilight, beneath their +wings the song-birds hide their heads, then wake and sing, for the sun +is swinging up over the horizon where the pink sky, for an hour, has +shown the narrow door through which the day is dawning. + +The dogs and sleds have been left behind and now, with Jaquis the +half-breed "boy" leading, followed closely by Smith the Silent, we go +deeper and deeper each day into the pathless wilderness. + +To be sure it is not all bush, all forest. At times we cross wide +reaches of wild prairie lands. Sometimes great lakes lie immediately in +front of us, compelling us to change our course. Now we come to a wide +river and raft our outfit over, swimming our horses. Weeks go by and we +begin to get glimpses of the Rockies rising above the forest, and we +push on. The streams become narrower as we ascend, but swifter and more +dangerous. + +We do not travel constantly now, as we have been doing. Sometimes we +keep our camp for two or three days. The climbing is hard, for Smith +must get to the top of every peak in sight, and so I find it "good +hunting" about the camp. + +Jaquis is a fairly good cook, and what he lacks we make up with good +appetites, for we live almost constantly out under the sun and stars. + +Pathfinders always lay up on Sunday, and sometimes, the day being long, +Smith steals out to the river and comes back with a mountain trout as +long as a yardstick. + +The scenery is beyond description. Now we pass over the shoulder of a +mountain with a river a thousand feet below. Sometimes we trail for +hours along the shore of a limpid lake that seems to run away to the +foot of the Rockies. + +Far away we get glimpses of the crest of the continent, where the Peace +River gashes it as if it had been cleft by the sword of the Almighty; +and near the Rockies, on either bank, grand battlements rise that seem +to guard the pass as the Sultan's fortresses frown down on the +Dardanelles. + +Now we follow a narrow trail that was not a trail until we passed. A +careless pack-horse, carrying our blankets, slips from the path and goes +rolling and tumbling down the mountain side. A thousand feet below lies +an arm of the Athabasca. Down, down, and over and over the pack-horse +goes, and finally fetches up on a ledge five hundred feet below the +trail. "By damn," says Jaquis, "dere is won bronco bust, eh?" + +Smith and Jaquis go down to cut the cinches and save the pack, and lo, +up jumps our cayuse, and when he is repacked he takes the trail as good +as new. The pack and the low bush save his life. + +In any other country, to other men, this would be exciting, but it's all +in the day's work with Smith and Jaquis. + +The pack-pony that had been down the mountain is put in the lead +now--that is, in the lead of the pack animals; for he has learned his +lesson, he will be careful. And yet we are to have other experiences +along this same river. + +Suddenly, down a side cañon, a mountain stream rushes, plunging into the +Athabasca, joyfully, like a sea-bather into the surf. Jaquis calls this +side-stream "the mill-tail o' hell." Smith the Silent prepares to cross. +It's all very simple. All you need is a stout pole, a steady nerve, and +an utter disregard for the hereafter. + +When Smith is safe on the other shore we drive the horses into the +stream. They shudder and shrink from the ice-cold water, but Jaquis and +I urge them, and in they plunge. My, what a struggle! Their wet feet on +the slippery boulders in the bottom of the stream, the swift current +constantly tripping them--it was thrilling to see and must have been +agony for the animals. + +Midway, where the current was strongest, a mouse-colored cayuse carrying +a tent lost his feet. The turbulent tide slammed him up on top of a +great rock, barely hidden beneath the water, and he got to his feet like +a cat that has fallen upon the edge of an eave-trough. Trembling, the +cayuse called to Smith, and Smith, running downstream, called back, +urging the animal to leave the refuge and swim for it. The pack-horse +perched on the rock gazes wistfully at the shore. The waters, breaking +against his resting-place, wash up to his trembling knees. About him the +wild river roars, and just below leaps over a ten-foot fall into the +Athabasca. + +All the other horses, having crossed safely, shake the water from their +dripping sides and begin cropping the tender grass. We could have heard +that horse's heart beat if we could have hushed the river's roar. + +Smith called again, the cayuse turned slightly, and whether he leaped +deliberately or his feet slipped on the slippery stones, forcing him to +leap, we could not say, but he plunged suddenly into the stream, +uttering a cry that echoed up the cañon and over the river like the cry +of a lost soul. + +The cruel current caught him, lifted him, and plunged him over the drop, +and he was lost instantly in the froth and foam of the falls. + +Far down, at a bend of the Athabasca, something white could be seen +drifting towards the shore. That night Smith the Silent made an entry in +his little red book marked "Grand Trunk Pacific," and tented under the +stars. + + + + +THE CURÉ'S CHRISTMAS GIFT + + "A country that is bad or good, + Precisely as your claim pans out; + A land that's much misunderstood, + Misjudged, maligned and lied about." + + +When the pathfinders for the New National Highway pushed open the side +door and peeped through to the Pacific they not only discovered a short +cut to Yokohama, but opened to the world a new country, revealing the +last remnant of the Last West. + +Edmonton is the outfiling point, of course, but Little Slave Lake is the +real gateway to the wilderness. Here we were to make our first stop (we +were merely exploring), and from this point our first portage was to the +Peace River, at Chinook, where we would get into touch once more with +the Hudson's Bay Company. + +Jim Cromwell, the free trader who was in command of Little Slave, made +us welcome, introducing us _ensemble_ to his friend, a former H.B. +factor, to the Yankee who was looking for a timber limit, to the +"Literary Cuss," as he called the young man in corduroys and a wide +white hat, who was endeavoring to get past "tradition," that has damned +this Dominion both in fiction and in fact for two hundred years, and do +something that had in it the real color of the country. + +At this point the free trader paused to assemble the Missourian. This +iron-gray individual shook himself out, came forward, and gripped our +hands, one after another. + +The free trader would not allow us to make camp that night. We were +sentenced to sup and lodge with him, furnishing our own bedding, of +course, but baking his bread. + +The smell of cooking coffee and the odor of frying fish came to us from +the kitchen, and floating over from somewhere the low, musical, well +modulated voice of Cromwell, conversing in Cree, as he moved about among +his mute and apparently inoffensive camp servants. + +The day died hard. The sun was still shining at 9 P.M. At ten +it was twilight, and in the dusk we sat listening to tales of the far +North, totally unlike the tales we read in the story-books. Smith the +Silent, who was in charge of our party, was interested in the country, +of course, its physical condition, its timber, its coal, and its mineral +possibilities. He asked about its mountains and streams, its possible +and impossible passes; but the "Literary Cuss" and I were drinking +deeply of weird stories that were being told quite incautiously by the +free trader, the old factor, and by the Missourian. We were like +children, this young author and I, sitting for the first time in a +theatre. The flickering camp fire that we had kindled in the open served +as a footlight, while the Gitch Lamp, still gleaming in the west, +glanced through the trees and lit up the faces of the three great actors +who were entertaining us without money and without price. The Missourian +was the star. He had been reared in the lap of luxury, had run away from +college where he had been installed by a rich uncle, his guardian, and +jumped down to South America. He had ridden with the Texas Rangers and +with President Diaz's Regulators, had served as a scout on the plains +and worked with the Mounted Police, but was now "retired." + +All of which we learned not from him directly, but from the stories he +told and from his bosom friend, the free trader, whose guests we were, +and whose word, for the moment at least, we respected. + +The camp fire burned down to a bed of coals, the Gitch Lamp went out. In +the west, now, there was only a glow of gold, but no man moved. + +Smith the Pathfinder and our host the free trader bent over a map. "But +isn't this map correct?" Smith would ask, and when in doubt Jim would +call the Missourian. "No," said the latter, "you can't float down that +river because it flows the other way, and that range of mountains is two +hundred miles out." + +Gradually we became aware that all this vast wilderness, to the world +unknown, was an open book to this quiet man who had followed the buffalo +from the Rio Grande to the Athabasca where he turned, made a last stand, +and then went down. + +When the rest had retired the free trader and I sat talking of the Last +West, of the new trail my friends were blazing, and of the wonderfully +interesting individual whom we called the Missourian. + +"He had a prospecting pard," said Jim, "whom he idolized. This man, +whose name was Ramsey, Jack Ramsey, went out in '97 between the Coast +Range and the Rockies, and now this sentimental old pioneer says he will +never leave the Peace River until he finds Ramsey's bones. + +"You see," Cromwell continued, "friendship here and what goes for +friendship outside are vastly different. The matter of devoting one's +life to a friend or to a duty, real or fancied, is only a trifle to +these men who abide in the wilderness. I know of a Chinaman and a Cree +who lived and died the most devoted friends. You see the Missourian +hovering about the last camping-place of his companion. Behold the +factor! He has left the Hudson Bay Company after thirty years because he +has lost his life's best friend, a man who spoke another language, whose +religion was not the brand upon which the factor had been brought up in +England; yet they were friends." + +The camp fire had gone out. In the south we saw the first faint flush +of dawn as Cromwell, knocking the ashes from his pipe, advised me to go +to bed. "You get the old factor to tell you the story of his friend the +curé, and of the curé's Christmas gift," Cromwell called back, and I +made a point of getting the story, bit by bit, from the florid factor +himself, and you shall read it as it has lingered in my memory. + +When the new curé came to Chinook on the Upper Peace River, he carried a +small hand-satchel, his blankets, and a crucifix. His face was drawn, +his eyes hungry, his frame wasted, but his smile was the smile of a man +at peace with the world. The West--the vast, undiscovered Canadian +West--jarred on the sensitive nerves of this Paris-bred priest. And yet, +when he crossed the line that marks what we are pleased to call +"civilization," and had reached the heart of the real Northwest, where +the people were unspoiled, natural, and honest, where a handful of Royal +Northwest Mounted Police kept order in an empire that covers a quarter +of a continent, he became deeply interested in this new world, in the +people, in the imperial prairies, the mountains, and the great wide +rivers that were racing down to the northern sea. + +The factor at the Hudson's Bay post, whose whole life since he had left +college in England had been passed on the Peace River, at York Factory, +and other far northern stations over which waved the Hudson's Bay +banner, warmed to the new curé from their first meeting, and the curé +warmed to him. Each seemed to find in the other a companion that neither +had been able to find among the few friends of his own faith. + +And so, through the long evenings of the northern winter, they sat in +the curé's cabin study or by the factor's fire, and talked of the things +which they found interesting, including politics, literature, art, and +Indians. Despite the great gulf that rolled between the two creeds in +which they had been cradled, they found that they were in accord three +times in five--a fair average for men of strong minds and inherent +prejudices. At first the curé was anxious to get at the real work of +"civilizing" the natives. + +"Yes," the factor would say, blowing the smoke upward, "the Indian +should be civilized--slowly--the slower the better." + +The curé would pretend to look surprised as he relit his pipe. Once the +curé asked the factor why he was so indifferent to the welfare of the +Crees, who were the real producers, without whose furs there would be no +trade, no post, no job for the ruddy-faced factor. The priest was +surprised that the factor should appear to fail to appreciate the +importance of the trapper. + +"I do," said the factor. + +"Then why do you not help us to lift him to the light?" + +"I like him," was the laconic reply. + +"Then why don't you talk to him of his soul?" + +"Haven't the nerve," said the factor, shaking his head and blowing more +smoke. + +The curé shrugged his shoulders. + +"I say," said the florid factor, facing the pale priest. "Did you see me +decorating the old chief, Dunraven, yesterday?" + +"Yes, I presume you were giving him a _pour boire_ in advance to secure +the greater catch of furs next season," said the priest, with his usual +sad yet always pleasant smile. + +"A very poor guess for one so wise," said the factor. "_Attendez_," he +continued. "This post used to be closed always in winter. The tent doors +were tied fast on the inside, after which the man who tied them would +crawl out under the edge of the canvas. When winter came, the snow, +banked about, held the tent tightly down, and the Hudson's Bay business +was bottled at this point until the springless summer came to wake the +sleeping world. + +"Last winter was a hard winter. The snow was deep and game scarce. One +day a Cree Indian found himself in need of tea and tobacco, and more in +need of a new pair of trousers. Passing the main tent one day, he was +sorely tempted. Dimly, through the parchment pane, he could see great +stacks of English tweeds, piles of tobacco, and boxes of tea, but the +tent was closed. He was sorely tried. He was hungry--hungry for a horn +of tea and a twist of the weed, and cold, too. Ah, _bon père_, it is +hard to withstand cold and hunger with only a canvas between one and the +comforts of life!" + +"_Oui, Monsieur!_" said the curé, warmly, touched by the pathos of the +tale. + +"The Indian walked away (we know that by his footprints), but returned +to the tent. The hunger and the cold had conquered. He took his +hunting-knife and slit the deerskin window and stepped inside. Then he +approached the pile of tweed trousers and selected a large pair, putting +down from the bunch of furs he had on his arms to the value of eight +skins--the price his father and grandfather had paid. He visited the +tobacco pile and helped himself, leaving four skins on the tobacco. When +he had taken tea he had all his heart desired, and having still a number +of skins left, he hung them upon a hook overhead and went away. + +"When summer dawned and a clerk came to open the post, he saw the slit +in the window, and upon entering the tent saw the eight skins on the +stack of tweeds, the four skins on the tobacco, and the others on the +chest, and understood. + +"Presently he saw the skins which the Indian had hung upon the hook, +took them down, counted them carefully, appraised them, and made an +entry in the Receiving Book, in which he credited +'Indian-cut-the-window, 37 skins.' + +"Yesterday Dunraven came to the post and confessed. + +"It was to reward him for his honesty that I gave him the fur coat and +looped the big brass baggage check in his buttonhole. _Voilà!_" + +The curé crossed his legs and then recrossed them, tossed his head from +side to side, drummed upon the closed book which lay in his lap, and +showed in any number of ways, peculiar to nervous people, his amazement +at the story and his admiration for the Indian. + +"Little things like that," said the factor, filling his pipe, "make me +timid when talking to a Cree about 'being good.'" + + * * * * * + +When summer came, and with it the smell of flowers and the music of +running streams, the factor and his friend the curé used to take long +tramps up into the highlands, but the curé's state of health was a +handicap to him. The factor saw the telltale flush in the priest's face +and knew that the "White Plague" had marked him; yet he never allowed +the curé to know that he knew. That summer a little river steamer was +sent up from Athabasca Lake by the Chief Commissioner who sat in the +big office at Winnipeg, and upon this the factor and his friend took +many an excursion up and down the Peace. The friendship that had grown +up between the factor and the new curé formed the one slender bridge +that connected the Anglican and the Catholic camps. Even the "heathen +Crees" marvelled that these white men, praying to the same God, should +dwell so far apart. Wing You, who had wandered over from Ramsay's Camp +on the Pine River, explained it all to Dunraven: "Flenchman and +Englishman," said Wing. "No ketchem same Glod. You--Clee," continued the +wise Oriental, "an' Englishman good flend--ketchem same Josh; you call +'im We-sec-e-gea, white man call 'im God." + +And so, having the same God, only called by different names, the Crees +trusted the factor, and the factor trusted the Crees. Their business +intercourse was on the basis of skin for skin, furs being the recognized +coin of the country. + +"Why do you not pay them in cash, take cash in turn, and let them have +something to rattle?" asked the curé one day. + +"They won't have it," said the factor. "Silver Skin, brother to +Dunraven, followed a party of prospectors out to Edmonton last fall and +tried it. He bought a pair of gloves, a red handkerchief, and a pound of +tobacco, and emptied his pockets on the counter, so that the clerk in +the shop might take out the price of the goods. According to his own +statement, the Indian put down $37.80. He took up just six-thirty-five. +When the Cree came back to God's country he showed me what he had left +and asked me to check him up. When I had told him the truth, he walked +to the edge of the river and sowed the six-thirty-five broadcast on the +broad bosom of the Peace." + +And so, little by little, the patient priest got the factor's +view-point, and learned the great secret of the centuries of success +that has attended the Hudson's Bay Company in the far North. + +And little by little the two men, without preaching, revealed to the +Indians and the Oriental the mystery of Life--vegetable life at +first--of death and life beyond. They showed them the miracle of the +wheat. + +On the first day of June they put into a tiny grave a grain of wheat. +They told the Blind Ones that the berry would suffer death, decay, but +out of that grave would spring fresh new flags that would grow and blow, +fanned by the balmy chinook winds, and wet by the dews of heaven. + +On the first day of September they harvested seventy-two stalks and +threshed from the seventy-two stalks seven thousand two hundred grains +of wheat. They showed all this to the Blind Ones and they saw. The curé +explained that we, too, would go down and die, but live again in another +life, in a fairer world. + +The Cree accepted it all in absolute silence, but the Oriental, with his +large imagination, exclaimed, pointing to the tiny heap of golden grain: +"Me ketchem die, me sleep, byme by me wake up in China--seven +thousand--heap good." The curé was about to explain when the factor put +up a warning finger. "Don't cut it too fine, father," said he. "They're +getting on very well." + +That was a happy summer for the two men, working together in the garden +in the cool dawn and chatting in the long twilight that lingers on the +Peace until 11 P.M. Alas! as the summer waned the factor saw +that his friend was failing fast. He could walk but a short distance now +without resting, and when the red rose of the Upper Athabasca caught the +first cold kiss of Jack Frost, the good priest took to his bed. Wing +You, the accomplished cook, did all he could to tempt him to eat and +grow strong again. Dunraven watched from day to day for an opportunity +to "do something"; but in vain. The faithful factor made daily visits to +the bedside of his sick friend. As the priest, who was still in the +springtime of his life, drew nearer to the door of death, he talked +constantly of his beloved mother in far-off France--a thing unusual for +a priest, who is supposed to burn his bridges when he leaves the world +for the church. + +Often when he talked thus, the factor wanted to ask his mother's name +and learn where she lived, but always refrained. + +Late in the autumn the factor was called to Edmonton for a general +conference of all the factors in the employ of the Honorable Company of +gentlemen adventurers trading into Hudson's Bay. With a heavy heart he +said good-bye to the failing priest. + +When he had come within fifty miles of Chinook, on the return trip, he +was wakened at midnight by Dunraven, who had come out to ask him to +hurry up as the curé was dying, but wanted to speak to the factor first. + +Without a word the Englishman got up and started forward, Dunraven +leading on the second lap of his "century." + +It was past midnight again when the _voyageurs_ arrived at the river. +There was a dim light in the curé's cabin, to which Dunraven led them, +and where the Catholic bishop and an Irish priest were on watch. "So +glad to see you," said the bishop. "There is something he wants from +your place, but he will not tell Wing. Speak to him, please." + +"Ah, _Monsieur_, I'm glad that you are come--I'm weary and want to be +off." + +"The long _traverse_, eh?" + +"_Oui, Monsieur_--_le grand voyage_." + +"Is there anything I can do for you?" asked the Englishman. The dying +priest made a movement as if hunting for something. The bishop, to +assist, stepped quickly to his side. The patient gave up the quest of +whatever he was after and looked languidly at the factor. "What is it, +my son?" asked the bishop, bending low. "What would you have the factor +fetch from his house?" + +"Just a small bit of cheese," said the sick man, sighing wearily. + +"Now, that's odd," mused the factor, as he went off on his strange +errand. + +When the Englishman returned to the cabin, the bishop and the priest +stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. Upon a bench on the narrow +veranda Dunraven sat, resting after his hundred-mile tramp, and on the +opposite side of the threshold Wing You lay sleeping in his blankets, so +as to be in easy call if he were wanted. + +When the two friends were alone, the sick man signalled, and the factor +drew near. + +"I have a great favor--a very great favor to ask of you," the priest +began, "and then I'm off. Ah, _mon Dieu!_" he panted. "It has been hard +to hold out. Jesus has been kind." + +"It's damned tough at your time, old fellow," said the factor, huskily. + +"It's not my time, but His." + +"Yes--well I shall be over by and by." + +"And those faithful dogs--Dunraven and Wing--thank them for--" + +"Sure! If _I_ can pass," the factor broke in, a little confused. + +"Thank them for me--for their kindnesses--and care. Tell them to +remember the sermon of the wheat. And now, good friend," said the +priest, summoning all his strength, "_attendez_!" + +He drew a thin, white hand from beneath the cover, carrying a tiny +crucifix. "I want you to send this to my beloved mother by registered +post; send it yourself, please, so that she may have it before the end +of the year. This will be my last Christmas gift to her. And the one +that comes from her to me--that is for you, to keep in remembrance of +me. And write to her--oh, so gently tell her--Jesus--help me," he +gasped, sitting upright. "She lives in Rue ---- O Mary, Mother of Jesus," +he cried, clutching at the collar of his gown; and then he fell back +upon his bed, and his soul swept skyward like a toy balloon when the +thin thread snaps. + +When the autumn sun smiled down on Chinook and the autumn wind sighed in +by the door and out by the open window where the dead priest lay, Wing +and Dunraven sat on the rude bench in the little veranda, going over it +all, each in his own tongue, but uttering never a word, yet each to the +other expressing the silence of his soul. + +The factor, in the seclusion of his bachelor home, held the little cross +up and examined it critically. "To be sent to his mother, she lives in +Rue ---- Ah, if I could have been but a day sooner; yet the bishop must +know," he added, putting the crucifix carefully away. + +The good people in the other world, beyond the high wall that separated +the two Christian Tribes, had been having shivers over the factor and +his fondness for the Romans; but when he volunteered to assist at the +funeral of his dead friend, _his_ people were shocked. In that scant +settlement there were not nearly enough priests to perform, properly, +the funeral services, so the factor fell in, mingling his deep full +voice with the voices of the bishop and the Irish brother, and grieving +even as they grieved. + +And the Blind Ones, Wing and Dunraven, came also, paying a last tearless +tribute to the noble dead. + +When it was all over and the post had settled down to routine, the +factor found in his mail, one morning, a long letter from the Chief +Commissioner at Winnipeg. It told the factor that he was in bad repute, +that the English Church bishop had been grieved, shocked, and +scandalized through seeing the hitherto respectable factor going over to +the Catholics. Not only had he fraternized with them, but had actually +taken part in their religious ceremonies. And to crown it all, he had +carried, a respectable Cree and the Chinese cook along with him. + +The factor's placid face took on a deep hue, but only for a moment. He +filled his pipe, poking the tobacco down hard with his thumb. Then he +took the Commissioner's letter, twisted it up, touched it to the tiny +fire that blazed in the grate, and lighted his pipe. He smoked in +silence for a few moments and then said to himself, being alone, "Huh!" + +"Ah, that from the bishop reminds me," said the factor. "I must run +over and see the other one." + +When the factor had related to the French-Canadian bishop what had +passed between the dead curé and himself, the bishop seemed greatly +annoyed. "Why, man, he had no mother!" + +"The devil he didn't--I beg pardon--I say he asked me to send this to +his mother. He started to tell me where she lived and then the call +came. It was the dying request of a dear friend. I beg of you tell me +his mother's name, that I may keep my word." + +"It is impossible, my son. When he came into the church he left the +world. He was bound by the law of the church to give up father, mother, +sister, brother--all." + +"The church be--do you mean to say--" + +"Peace, my son, you do not understand," said the bishop, lifting the +little cross which he had taken gently from the factor at the beginning +of the interview. + +Now the factor was not in the habit of having his requests ignored and +his judgment questioned. + +"Do you mean to say you will _not_ give me the name and address of the +dead man's mother?" + +"It's absolutely impossible. Moreover, I am shocked to learn that our +late brother could so far forget his duty at the very door of death. No, +son, a thousand times no," said the bishop. + +"Then give me the crucifix!" demanded the factor, fiercely. + +"That, too, is impossible; that is the property of the church." + +"Well," said the factor, filling his pipe again and gazing into the +flickering fire, "they're all about the same. And they're all right, +too, I presume--all but Wing and Dunraven and me." + + + + +THE MYSTERIOUS SIGNAL + + +As Waterloo lingered in the memory of the conquered Corsican, so +Ashtabula was burned into the brain of Bradish. Out of that awful wreck +he crawled, widowed and childless. For a long time he did not realize, +for his head was hurt in that frightful crash. + +By the time he was fit to leave the hospital they had told him, little +by little, that all his people had perished. + +He made his way to the West, where he had a good home and houses to rent +and a hole in the hillside that was just then being changed from a +prospect to a mine. + +The townspeople, who had heard of the disaster, waited for him to speak +of it--but he never did. The neighbors nodded, and he nodded to them and +passed on about his business. The old servant came and asked if she +should open the house, and he nodded. The man-servant--the woman's +husband--came also, and to him Bradish nodded; and at noon he had +luncheon alone in the fine new house that had just been completed a year +before the catastrophe. + +About once a week Bradish would board the midnight express, ride down +the line for a few hundred miles, and double back. + +When he went away they knew he had gone, and when he came back they knew +he had returned and that was as much as his house-keeper, his agent, or +the foreman at the mines could tell you. + +One would have thought that the haunting memory of Ashtabula would have +kept him at home for the rest of his life; but he seemed to travel for +the sake of the ride only, or for no reason, as a deaf man walks on the +railroad-track. + +Gradually he extended his trips, taking the Midland over into Utah; and +once or twice he had been seen on the rear end of the California Limited +as it dropped down the western water-shed of Raton Range. + +One night, when the Limited was lapping up the landscape and the Desert +was rushing in under her pilot and streaking out below the last sleeper +like tape from a ticker, the danger signal sounded in the engine cab, +the air went on full, the passengers braced themselves against the seats +in front of them, or held their breath in their berths as the train came +to a dead stop. + +The conductor and the head man hurried forward shouting, "What's the +matter?" to the engineer. + +The driver, leaning from his lofty window, asked angrily, "What in +thunder's the matter with you? I got a stop signal from behind." + +"You'd better lay off and have a good sleep," said the conductor. + +"I'll put you to sleep for a minute if you ever hint that I was not +awake coming down Cañon Diablo," shouted the engineer, releasing his +brakes. As the long, heavy train glided by, the trainmen swung up like +sailors, and away went the Limited over the long bridge, five minutes to +the bad. + +A month later the same thing happened on the East end. The engineer was +signalled and stopped on a curve with the point of his pilot on a high +bridge. + +This time the captain and the engineer were not so brittle of temper. +They discussed the matter, calling on the fireman, who had heard +nothing, being busy in the coal-tank. + +The head brakeman, crossing himself, said it was the "unseen hand" that +had been stopping the Limited on the Desert. It might be a warning, he +said, and walked briskly out on the bridge looking for dynamite, ghosts, +and things. + +When he had reached the other end of the bridge, he gave the go-ahead +signal and the train pulled out. As they had lost seven minutes, it was +necessary for the conductor to report "cause of delay;" and that was the +first hint the officials of any of the Western lines had of the "unseen +hand." + +Presently trainmen, swapping yarns at division stations, heard of the +mysterious signal on other roads. + +The Columbia Limited, over on the Short Line, was choked with her head +over Snake River, at the very edge of Pendleton. When they had pulled in +and a fresh crew had taken the train on, the in-coming captain and his +daring driver argued over the incident and they each got ten days,--not +for the delay, but because they could not see to sign the call-book next +morning and were not fit to be seen by other people. + +The next train stopped was the International Limited on the Grand Trunk, +then the Sunset by the South Coast. + +The strange phenomenon became so general that officials lost patience. +One road issued an order to the effect that any engineer who heard +signals when there were no signals should get thirty days for the first +and his time for the second offence. + +Within a week from the appearance of the unusual and unusually offensive +bulletin, "Baldy" Hooten heard the stop signal as he neared a little +Junction town where his line crossed another on an overhead bridge. + +When the signal sounded, the fireman glanced over at the driver, who +dived through the window up to his hip pockets. + +When the engine had crashed over the bridge, the driver pulled himself +into the cab again, and once more the signal. The fireman, amazed, +stared at the engineer. The latter jerked the throttle wide open; seeing +which, the stoker dropped to the deck and began feeding the hungry +furnace. Ten minutes later the Limited screamed for a regular stop, ten +miles down the line. As the driver dropped to the ground and began +touching the pins and links with the back of his bare hand, to see if +they were all cool, the head brakeman trotted forward whispering +hoarsely, "The ol' man's aboard." + +The driver waved him aside with his flaring torch, and up trotted the +blue-and-gold conductor with his little silver white-light with a +frosted flue. "Why didn't you stop at Pee-Wee Junction?" he hissed. + +"Is Pee-Wee a stop station?" + +"On signal." + +"I didn't see no sign." + +"_I_ pulled the bell." + +"Go on now, you ghost-dancer," said the engineer. + +"You idiot!" gasped the exasperated conductor. "Don't you know the old +man's on, that he wanted to stop at Pee-Wee to meet the G.M. this +morning, that a whole engineering outfit will be idle there for half a +day, and you'll get the guillotine?" + +"Whew, you have _shore_ got 'em." + +"Isn't your bell working?" asked a big man who had joined the group +under the cab window. + +"I think so, sir," said the driver, as he recognized the superintendent. +"Johnny, try that cab bell," he shouted, and the fire-boy sounded the +big brass gong. + +"Why didn't you take it at Pee-Wee?" asked the old man, holding his +temper beautifully. + +The driver lifted his torch and stared almost rudely into the face of +the official in front of him. "Why, Mr. Skidum," said he slowly, "I +didn't hear no signal." + +The superintendent was blocked. + +As he turned and followed the conductor into the telegraph office, the +driver, gloating in his high tower of a cab, watched him. + +"He's an old darling," said he to the fire-boy, "and I'm ready to die +for him any day; but I can't stop for him in the face of bulletin 13. +Thirty days for the first offence, and then fire," he quoted, as he +opened the throttle and steamed away, four minutes late. + +The old man drummed on the counter-top in the telegraph office, and then +picked up a pad and wrote a wire to his assistant:-- + +"Cancel general order No. 13." + +The night man slipped out in the dawn and called the day man who was the +station master, explaining that the old man was at the station and +evidently unhappy. + +The agent came on unusually early and endeavored to arrange for a light +engine to carry the superintendent back to the Junction. + +At the end of three hours they had a freight engine that had left its +train on a siding thirty miles away and rolled up to rescue the stranded +superintendent. + +Now, every railway man knows that when one thing goes wrong on a +railroad, two more mishaps are sure to follow; so, when the rescuing +crew heard over the wire that the train they had left on a siding, +having been butted by another train heading in, had started back down +grade, spilled over at the lower switch, and blocked the main line, they +began to expect something to happen at home. + +However, the driver had to go when the old man was in the cab and the +G.M. with a whole army of engineers and workmen waiting for him at +Pee-Wee; so he rattled over the switches and swung out on the main line +like a man who was not afraid. + +Two miles up the road the light engine, screaming through a cut, +encountered a flock of sheep, wallowed through them, left the track, and +slammed the four men on board up against the side of the cut. + +Not a bone was broken, though all of them were sore shaken, the engineer +being unconscious when picked up. + +"Go back and report," said the old man to the conductor. "You look after +the engineer," to the fireman. + +"Will you flag west, sir?" asked the conductor. + +"Yes,--I'll flag into Pee-Wee," said the old man, limping down the line. + +To be sure, the superintendent was an intelligent man and not the least +bit superstitious; but he couldn't help, as he limped along, connecting +these disasters, remotely at least, with general order No. 13. + +In time the "unseen signal" came to be talked of by the officials as +well as by train and enginemen. It came up finally at the annual +convention of General Passenger Agents at Chicago and was discussed by +the engineers at Atlanta, but was always ridiculed by the eastern +element. + +"I helped build the U.P.," said a Buffalo man, "and I want to tell you +high-liners you can't drink squirrel-whiskey at timber-line without +seein' things nights." + +That ended the discussion. + +Probably no road in the country suffered from the evil effects of the +mysterious signal as did the Inter-Mountain Air Line. + +The regular spotters failed to find out, and the management sent to +Chicago for a real live detective who would not be predisposed to accept +the "mystery" as such, but would do his utmost to find the cause of a +phenomenon that was not only interrupting traffic but demoralizing the +whole service. + +As the express trains were almost invariably stopped at night, the +expert travelled at night and slept by day. Months passed with only two +or three "signals." These happened to be on the train opposed to the +one in which the detective was travelling at that moment. They brought +out another man, and on his first trip, taken merely to "learn the +road," the train was stopped in broad daylight. This time the stop +proved to be a lucky one; for, as the engineer let off the air and +slipped round a curve in a cañon, he found a rock as big as a box car +resting on the track. + +The detective was unable to say who sounded the signal. The train crew +were overawed. They would not even discuss the matter. + +With a watchman, unknown to the trainmen, on every train, the officials +hoped now to solve the mystery in a very short time. + +The old engineer, McNally, who had found the rock in the cañon, had +boasted in the lodge-room, in the round-house and out, that if ever he +got the "ghost-sign," he'd let her go. Of course he was off his guard +this time. He had not expected the "spook-stop" in open day. And right +glad he was, too, that he stopped _that_ day. + +A fortnight later McNally, on the night run, was going down Crooked +Creek Cañon watching the fireworks in the heavens. A black cloud hung +on a high peak, and where its sable skirts trailed along the range the +lightning leaped and flashed in sheets and chains. Above the roar of +wheels he could hear the splash, and once in a while he could feel the +spray, of new-made cataracts as the water rushed down the mountain side, +choking the culverts. + +At Crag View there was, at that time, a high wooden trestle stilted up +on spliced spruce piles with the bark on. + +It used to creak and crack under the engine when it was new. McNally was +nearing it now. It lay, however, just below a deep rock cut that had +been made in a mountain crag and beyond a sharp curve. + +McNally leaned from his cab window, and when the lightning flashed, saw +that the cut was clear of rock and released the brakes slightly to allow +the long train to slip through the reverse curve at the bridge. Curves +cramp a train, and a smooth runner likes to feel them glide smoothly. + +As the black locomotive poked her nose through the cut, the engineer +leaned out again; but the after-effect of the flash of lightning left +the world in inky blackness. + +Back in a darkened corner of the drawing-room of the rearmost sleeper +the sleuth snored with both eyes and ears open. + +Suddenly he saw a man, fully dressed, leap from a lower berth in the +last section and make a grab for the bell-rope. The man missed the rope; +and before he could leap again the detective landed on the back of his +neck, bearing him down. At that moment the conductor came through; and +when he saw the detective pull a pair of bracelets from his hip-pocket, +he guessed that the man underneath must be wanted, and joined in the +scuffle. In a moment the man was handcuffed, for he really offered no +resistance. As they released him he rose, and they squashed him into a +seat opposite the section from which he had leaped a moment before. The +man looked not at his captors, who still held him, but pressed his face +against the window. He saw the posts of the snow-shed passing, sprang +up, flung the two men from him as a Newfoundland would free himself from +a couple of kittens, lifted his manacled hands, leaped toward the +ceiling, and bore down on the signal-rope. + +The conductor, in the excitement, yelled at the man, bringing the rear +brakeman from the smoking-room, followed by the black boy bearing a +shoe-brush. + +Once more they bore the bad man down, and then the conductor grabbed the +rope and signalled the engineer ahead. + +Men leaped from their berths, and women showed white faces between the +closely drawn curtains. + +Once more the conductor pulled the bell, but the train stood still. + +One of the passengers picked up the man's hand-grip that had fallen from +his berth, and found that the card held in the leather tag read: + + "JOHN BRADISH." + +"Go forward," shouted the conductor to the rear brakeman, "and get 'em +out of here,--tell McNally we've got the ghost." + +The detective released his hold on his captive, and the man sank limp in +the corner seat. + +The company's surgeon, who happened to be on the car, came over and +examined the prisoner. The man had collapsed completely. + +When the doctor had revived the handcuffed passenger and got him to sit +up and speak, the porter, wild-eyed, burst in and shouted: "De bridge is +gone." + +A death-like hush held the occupants of the car. + +"De hangin' bridge is sho' gone," repeated the panting porter, "an' de +engine, wi' McNally in de cab's crouchin' on de bank, like a black cat +on a well-cu'b. De watah's roahin' in de deep gorge, and if she drap she +gwine drag--" + +The doctor clapped his hand over the frightened darky's mouth, and the +detective butted him out to the smoking-room. + +The conductor explained that the porter was crazy, and so averted a +panic. + +The detective came back and faced the doctor. "Take off the irons," said +the surgeon, and the detective unlocked the handcuffs. + +Now the doctor, in his suave, sympathetic way, began to question +Bradish; and Bradish began to unravel the mystery, pausing now and again +to rest, for the ordeal through which he had just passed had been a +great mental and nervous strain. + +He began by relating the Ashtabula accident that had left him wifeless +and childless, and, as the story progressed, seemed to find infinite +relief in relating the sad tale of his lonely life. It was like a +confession. Moreover, he had kept the secret so long locked in his +troubled breast that it was good to pour it out. + +The doctor sat directly in front of the narrator, the detective beside +him, while interested passengers hung over the backs of seats and +blocked the narrow aisle. Women, with faces still blanched, sat up in +bed listening breathlessly to the strange story of John Bradish. + +Shortly after returning to their old home, he related, he was awakened +one night by the voice of his wife calling in agonized tones, "John! +John!" precisely as she had cried to him through the smoke and steam and +twisted débris at Ashtabula. He leaped from his bed, heard a mighty +roar, saw a great light flash on his window, and the midnight express +crashed by. + +To be sure it was only a dream, he said to himself, intensified by the +roar of the approaching train; and yet he could sleep no more that +night. Try as he would, he could not forget it; and soon he realized +that a growing desire to travel was coming upon him. In two or three +days' time this desire had become irresistible. He boarded the midnight +train and took a ride. But this did not cure him. In fact, the more he +travelled the more he wanted to travel. Soon after this he discovered +that he had acquired another habit. He wanted to stop the train. Against +these inclinations he had struggled, but to no purpose. Once, when he +felt that he must take a trip, he undressed and went to bed. He fell +asleep, and slept soundly until he heard the whistle of the midnight +train. Instantly he was out of bed, and by the time they had changed +engines he was at the station ready to go. + +The mania for stopping trains had been equally irresistible. He would +bite his lips, his fingers, but he would also stop the train. + +The moment the mischief (for such it was, in nearly every instance) was +done, he would suffer greatly in dread of being found out. But to-night, +as on the occasion of the daylight stop in the cañon, he had no warning, +no opportunity to check himself, nor any desire to do so. In each +instance he had heard, dozing in the day-coach and sleeping soundly in +his berth, the voice cry: "John! John!" and instantly his brain was +ablaze with the light of burning wreckage. In the cañon he had only +felt, indefinitely, the danger ahead; but to-night he saw the bridge +swept away, and the dark gorge that yawned in front of them. Instantly +upon hearing the cry that woke him, he saw it all. + +"When I realized that the train was still moving, that my first effort +to stop had failed, I flung these strong men from me with the greatest +ease. I'm sure I should have burst those steel bands that bound my +wrists if it had been necessary. + +"Thank God it's all over. I feel now that I am cured,--that I can settle +down contented." + +The man drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead, +keeping his face to the window for a long time. + + * * * * * + +When the conductor went forward, he found that it was as the porter had +pictured. The high bridge had been carried away by a water-spout; and on +the edge of the opening the engine trembled, her pilot pointing out +over the black abyss. + +McNally, having driven his fireman from the deck, stood in the cab +gripping the air-lever and watching the pump. At that time we used what +is technically known as "straight air"; so that if the pump stopped the +air played out. + +The conductor ordered the passengers to leave the train. + +The rain had ceased, but the lightning was still playing about the +summit of the range, and when it flashed, those who had gone forward saw +McNally standing at his open window, looking as grand and heroic as the +captain on the bridge of his sinking ship. + +A nervous and somewhat thoughtless person came close under the cab to +ask the engineer why he didn't back up. + +There was no answer. McNally thought it must be obvious to a man with +the intelligence of an oyster, that to release the brakes would be to +let the heavy train shove him over the bank, even if his engine had the +power to back up, which she had not. + +The trainmen were working quietly, but very effectively, unloading. The +day coaches had been emptied, the hand-brakes set, and all the wheels +blocked with links and pins and stones, when the link between the engine +and the mail-car snapped and the engine moved forward. + +McNally heard the snap and felt her going, leaped from the window, +caught and held a scrub cedar that grew in a rock crevice, and saw his +black steed plunge down the dark cañon, a sheer two thousand feet. + +McNally had been holding her in the back motion with steam in her +cylinders; and now, when she leaped out into space, her throttle flew +wide, a knot in the whistle-rope caught in the throttle, opening the +whistle-valve as well. Down, down she plunged,--her wheels whirling in +mid-air, a solid stream of fire escaping from her quivering stack, and +from her throat a shriek that almost froze the blood in the veins of the +onlookers. Fainter and farther came the cry, until at last the wild +waters caught her, held her, hushed her, and smothered out her life. + + + + +CHASING THE WHITE MAIL + + +Over the walnuts and wine, as they say in Fifth Avenue, the gray-haired +gentleman and I lingered long after the last of the diners had left the +café car. One by one the lights were lowered. Some of the table-stewards +had removed their duck and donned their street clothes. The shades were +closely drawn, so that people could not peep in when the train was +standing. The chief steward was swinging his punch on his finger and +yawning. My venerable friend, who was a veritable author's angel, was a +retired railway president with plenty of time to talk. + +"We had, on the Vandalia," he began after lighting a fresh cigar, "a +dare-devil driver named Hubbard--'Yank' Hubbard they called him. He was +a first-class mechanic, sober and industrious, but notoriously reckless, +though he had never had a wreck. The Superintendent of Motive Power had +selected him for the post of master-mechanic at Effingham, but I had +held him up on account of his bad reputation as a wild rider. + +"We had been having a lot of trouble with California fruit +trains,--delays, wrecks, cars looted while in the ditch,--and I had made +the delay of a fruit train almost a capital offence. The bulletin was, I +presume, rather severe, and the enginemen and conductors were not taking +it very well. + +"One night the White Mail was standing at the station at East St. Louis +(that was before the first bridge was built) loading to leave. My car +was on behind, and I was walking up and down having a good smoke. As I +turned near the engine, I stopped to watch the driver of the White Mail +pour oil in the shallow holes on the link-lifters without wasting a +drop. He was on the opposite side of the engine, and I could see only +his flitting, flickering torch and the dipping, bobbing spout of his +oiler. + +"A man, manifestly another engineer, came up. The Mail driver lifted his +torch and said, 'Hello, Yank,' to which the new-comer made no direct +response. He seemed to have something on his mind. 'What are you out +on?' asked the engineer, glancing at the other's overalls. 'Fast +freight--perishable--must make time--no excuse will be taken,' he +snapped, quoting and misquoting from my severe circular. 'Who's in that +Kaskaskia?' he asked, stepping up close to the man with the torch. + +"'The ol' man,' said the engineer. + +"'No! ol' man, eh? Well! I'll give him a canter for his currency this +trip,' said Yank, gloating. 'I'll follow him like a scandal; I'll stay +with him this night like the odor of a hot box. Say, Jimmie,' he +laughed, 'when that tintype of yours begins to lay down on you, just +bear in mind that my pilot is under the ol' man's rear brake-beam, and +that the headlight of the 99 is haunting him.' + +"'Don't get gay, now,' said the engineer of the White Mail. + +"'Oh, I'll make him think California fruit is not all that's perishable +on the road to-night,' said Yank, hurrying away to the round-house. + +"Just as we were about to pull out, our engineer, who was brother to +Yank, found a broken frame and was obliged to go to the house for +another locomotive. We were an hour late when we left that night, +carrying signals for the fast freight. As we left the limits of the +yard, Hubbard's headlight swung out on the main line, picked up two +slender shafts of silver, and shot them under our rear end. The first +eight or ten miles were nearly level. I sat and watched the headlight of +the fast freight. He seemed to be keeping his interval until we hit the +hill at Collinsville. There was hard pounding then for him for five or +six miles. Just as the Kaskaskia dropped from the ridge between the east +and west Silver Creek, the haunting light swept round the curve at +Hagler's tank. I thought he must surely take water here; but he plunged +on down the hill, coming to the surface a few minutes later on the high +prairie east of Saint Jacobs. + +"Highland, thirty miles out, was our first stop. We took water there; +and before we could get away from the tank, Hubbard had his twin shafts +of silver under my car. We got a good start here, but our catch engine +proved to be badly coaled and a poor steamer. Up to this time she had +done fairly well, but after the first two hours she began to lose. +Seeing no more of the freight train, I turned in, not a little pleased +to think that Mr. Yank's headlight would not haunt me again that trip. I +fell asleep, but woke again when the train stopped, probably at +Vandalia. I had just begun to doze again when our engine let out a +frightful scream for brakes. I knew what that meant,--Hubbard was behind +us. I let my shade go up, and saw the light of the freight train shining +past me and lighting up the water-tank. I was getting a bit nervous, +when I felt our train pulling out. + +"Of course Hubbard had to water again; but as he had only fifteen loads, +and a bigger tank, he could go as far as the Mail could without +stopping. Moreover, we were bound to stop at county seats; and as often +as we did so we had the life scared out of us, for there was not an +air-brake freight car on the system at that time. What a night that must +have been for the freight crew! They were on top constantly, but I +believe the beggars enjoyed it all. Any conductor but Jim Lawn would +have stopped and reported the engineer at the first telegraph station. +Still, I have always had an idea that the train-master was tacitly in +the conspiracy, for his bulletin had been a hot one delivered orally by +the Superintendent, whom I had seen personally. + +"Well, along about midnight Hubbard's headlight got so close, and kept +so close, that I could not sleep. His brother, who was pulling the Mail, +avoided whistling him down; for when he did he only showed that there +_was_ danger, and published his bad brother's recklessness. The result +was that when the Mail screamed I invariably braced myself. I don't +believe I should have stood it, only I felt it would all be over in +another hour; for we should lose Yank at Effingham, the end of the +freight's division. It happened, however, that there was no one to +relieve him, or no engine rather; and Yank went through to Terre Haute. +I was sorry, but I hated to show the white feather. I knew our fresh +engine would lose him, with his tired fireman and dirty fire. Once or +twice I saw his lamp, but at Longpoint we lost him for good. I went to +bed again, but I could not sleep. I used to boast that I could sleep in +a boiler-maker's shop; but the long dread of that fellow's pilot had +unnerved me. I had wild, distressing dreams. + + * * * * * + +"The next morning, when I got to my office, I found a column of news cut +from a morning paper. It had the usual scare-head, and began by +announcing that the White Mail, with General Manager Blank's car +Kaskaskia, came in on time, carrying signals for a freight train. The +second section had not arrived, 'as we go to press.' I think I swore +softly at that point. Then I read on, for there was a lot more. It +seemed, the paper stated, that a gang of highwaymen had planned to rob +the Mail at Longpoint, which had come to be regarded as a regular robber +station. One of the robbers, being familiar with train rules, saw the +signal lights on the Mail and mistook it for a special, which is often +run as first section of a fast train, and they let it pass. They flagged +the freight train, and one of the robbers, who was doubtless new at the +business, caught the passing engine and climbed into the cab. The +engineer, seeing the man's masked face at his elbow, struck it a fearful +blow with his great fist. The amateur desperado sank to the floor, his +big, murderous gun rattling on the iron plate of the coal-deck. Yank, +the engineer, grabbed the gun, whistled off-brakes, and opened the +throttle. The sudden lurch forward proved too much for a weak link, and +the train parted, leaving the rest of the robbers and the train crew to +fight it out. As soon as the engineer discovered that the train had +parted, he slowed down and stopped. + +"When he had picketed the highwayman out on the tank-deck with a piece +of bell-cord, one end of which was fixed to the fellow's left foot and +the other to the whistle lever, Yank set his fireman, with a white light +and the robber's gun, on the rear car and flagged back to the rescue. +The robbers, seeing the blunder they had made, took a few parting shots +at the trainmen on the top of the train, mounted their horses, and rode +away. + +"When the train had coupled up again, they pulled on up to the next +station, where the conductor reported the cause of delay, and from which +station the account of the attempted robbery had been wired. + +"I put the paper down and walked over to a window that overlooked the +yards. The second section of the White Mail was coming in. As the engine +rolled past, Yank looked up; and there was a devilish grin on his black +face. The fireman was sitting on the fireman's seat, the gun across his +lap. A young fellow, wearing a long black coat, a bell-rope, and a +scared look, was sweeping up the deck. + +"When I returned to my desk, the Superintendent of Motive Power was +standing near it. When I sat down, he spread a paper before me. I +glanced at it and recognized Yank Hubbard's appointment to the post of +master-mechanic at Effingham. + +"I dipped a pen in the ink-well and wrote across it in red, 'O--K.'" + + + + +OPPRESSING THE OPPRESSOR + + +"Is this the President's office?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Can I see the President?" + +"Yes,--I'm the President." + +The visitor placed one big boot in a chair, hung his soft hat on his +knee, dropped his elbow on the hat, let his chin fall in the hollow of +his hand, and waited. + +The President of the Santa Fé, leaning over a flat-topped table, wrote +leisurely. When he had finished, he turned a kindly face to the visitor +and asked what could be done. + +"My name's Jones." + +"Yes?" + +"I presume you know about me,--Buffalo Jones, of Garden City." + +"Well," began the President, "I know a lot of Joneses, but where is +Garden City?" + +"Down the road a piece, 'bout half-way between Wakefield and Turner's +Tank. I want you folks to put in a switch there,--that's what I've come +about. I'd like to have it in this week." + +"Anybody living at Garden City?" + +"Yes, all that's there's livin'." + +"About how many?" + +"One and a half when I'm away,--Swede and Injin." + +The President of the Santa Fé smiled and rolled his lead pencil between +the palms of his hands. Mr. Jones watched him and pitied him, as one +watches and pities a child who is fooling with firearms. "He don't know +I'm loaded," thought Jones. + +"Well," said the President, "when you get your town started so that +there will be some prospect of getting a little business, we shall be +only too glad to put in a spur for you." + +Jones had been looking out through an open window, watching the +law-makers of Kansas going up the wide steps of the State House. The +fellows from the farm climbed, the town fellows ran up the steps. + +"Spur!" said Jones, wheeling around from the window and walking toward +the President's desk, "I don't want no spur; I want a side track +that'll hold fifty cars, and I want it this week,--see?" + +"Now look here, Mr. Jones, this is sheer nonsense. We get wind at +Wakefield and water at Turner's Tank; now, what excuse is there for +putting in a siding half-way between these places?" + +Again Mr. Jones, rubbing the point of his chin with the ball of his +thumb, gave the President a pitying glance. + +"Say!" said Jones, resting the points of his long fingers on the table, +"I'm goin' to build a town. You're goin' to build a side track. I've +already set aside ten acres of land for you, for depot and yards. This +land will cost you fifty dollars per, _now_. If I have to come back +about this side track, it'll cost you a hundred. Now, Mr. President, I +wish you good-mornin'." + +At the door Jones paused and looked back. "Any time this week will do; +good-mornin'." + +The President smiled and turned to his desk. Presently he smiled again; +then he forgot all about Mr. Jones and the new town, and went on with +his work. + +Mr. Jones went down and out and over to the House to watch the men make +laws. + + * * * * * + +In nearly every community, about every capital, State or National, you +will find men who are capable of being influenced. This is especially +true of new communities through which a railway is being built. It has +always been so, and will be, so long as time expires. I mean the time of +an annual pass. It is not surprising, then, that in Kansas at that time, +the Grasshopper period,--before prohibition, Mrs. Nation, and religious +dailies,--the company had its friends, and that Mr. Jones, an honest +farmer with money to spend, had his. + +Two or three days after the interview with Mr. Jones, the President's +"friend" came over to the railroad building. He came in quietly and +seated himself near the President, as a doctor enters a sick-room or a +lawyer a prison cell. "I know you don't want me," he seemed to say, "but +you need me." + +When his victim had put down his pen, the politician asked, "Have you +seen Buffalo Jones?" + +The President said he had seen the gentleman. + +"I think it would be a good scheme to give him what he wants," said the +Honorable member of the State legislature. + +But the President could not agree with his friend; and at the end of +half an hour, the Honorable member went away not altogether satisfied. +He did not relish the idea of the President trying to run the road +without his assistance. One of the chief excuses for his presence on +earth and in the State legislature was "to take care of the road." Now, +he had gotten up early in order to see the President without being seen, +and the President had waved him aside. "Well," he said, "I'll let Jones +have the field to-day." + + * * * * * + +Two days later, when the President opened his desk, he found a brief +note from his confidential assistant,--not the Honorable one, but an +ordinary man who worked for the company for a stated salary. The note +read:-- + +"If Buffalo Jones calls to-day please see him.--I am leaving town. +G.O.M." + +But Buffalo did not call. + +Presently the General Manager came in, and when he was leaving the room +he turned and asked, "Have you seen Jones?" + +"Yes," said the President of the Santa Fé, "I've seen Jones." + +The General Manager was glad, for that took the matter from his hands +and took the responsibility from his drooping shoulders. + +About the time the President got his mind fixed upon the affairs of the +road again, Colonel Holiday came in. Like the Honorable gentleman, he +too entered by the private door unannounced; for he was the Father of +the Santa Fé. Placing his high hat top side down on the table, the +Colonel folded his hands over the golden head of his cane and inquired +of the President if he had seen Jones. + +The President assured the Colonel, who in addition to being the Father +of the road was a director. + +The Colonel picked up his hat and went out, feeling considerable relief: +for _his_ friend in the State Senate had informed him at the Ananias +Club on the previous evening, that Jones was going to make trouble for +the road. The Colonel knew that a good, virtuous man with money to spend +could make trouble for anything or anybody, working quietly and +unobtrusively among the equally virtuous members of the State +legislature. The Colonel had been a member of that august body. + +In a little while the General Manager came back; and with him came +O'Marity, the road-master. + +"I thought you said you had seen Jones," the General Manager began. + +Now the President, who was never known to be really angry, wheeled on +his revolving chair. + +"I--_have_--seen Jones." + +"Well, O'Marity says Jones has not been 'seen.' His friend, who comes +down from Atchison every Sunday night on O'Marity's hand-car, has been +good enough to tell O'Marity just what has been going on in the House. +There must be some mistake. It seems to me that if this man Jones had +been seen properly, he would subside. What's the matter with your +friend--Ah, here comes the Honorable gentleman now." + +The President beckoned with his index finger and his friend came in. +Looking him in the eye, the President asked in a stage whisper: "Have +you--seen--Jones?" + +"No, sir," said the Honorable gentleman. "I had no authority to see +him." + +"It's damphunny," said O'Marity, "if the President 'ave seen 'im, 'e +don't quit." + +"I certainly saw a man called Jones,--Buffalo Jones of Garden City. He +wanted a side track put in half-way between Wakefield and Turner's +Tank." + +"And you told him, 'Certainly, we'll do it at once,'" said the General +Manager. + +"No," the President replied, "I told him we would not do it at once, +because there was no business or prospect of business to justify the +expense." + +"Ah--h," said the Manager. + +O'Marity whistled softly. + +The Honorable gentleman smiled, and looked out through the open window +to where the members of the State legislature were going up the broad +steps to the State House. + +"Mr. Rong," the Manager began, "it is all a horrible mistake. You have +never 'seen' Jones. Not in the sense that we mean. When you see a +politician or a man who herds with politicians, he is supposed to be +yours,--you are supposed to have acquired a sort of interest in him,--an +interest that is valued so long as the individual is in sight. You are +entitled to his support and influence, up to, and including the date on +which your influence expires." All the time the Manager kept jerking his +thumb toward the window that held the Honorable gentleman, using the +President's friend as a living example of what he was trying to explain. + +"Is Jones a member?" + +"No, Mr. Rong, but he controls a few members. It is easier, you +understand, to acquire a drove of steers by buying a bunch than by +picking them up here and there, one at a time." + +"I protest," said the Honorable member, "against the reference to +members of the legislature as 'cattle.'" + +Neither of the railway men appeared to hear the protest. + +"I think I understand now," said the President. "And I wish, Robson, you +would take this matter in hand. I confess that I have no stomach for +such work." + +"Very well," said the Manager. "Please instruct your--your--" and he +jerked his thumb toward the Honorable gentleman--"your _friend_ to send +Jones to my office." + +The Honorable gentleman went white and then flushed red, but he waited +for no further orders. As he strode towards the door, Robson, with a +smooth, unruffled brow, but with a cold smile playing over his handsome +face, with mock courtesy and a wide sweep of his open hand, waved the +visitor through the open door. + + * * * * * + +"Mr. Jones wishes to see you," said the chief clerk. + +"Oh, certainly--show Mr. Jones--Ah, good-morning, Mr. Jones, glad to see +you. How's Garden City? Going to let us in on the ground floor, Mr. Rong +tells me. Here, now, fire up; take this big chair and tell me all about +your new town." + +Jones took a cigar cautiously from the box. When the Manager offered him +a match he lighted up gingerly, as though he expected the thing to blow +up. + +"Now, Mr. Jones, as I understand it, you want a side track put in at +once. The matter of depot and other buildings will wait, but I want you +to promise to let us have at least ten acres of ground. Perhaps it would +be better to transfer that to us at once. I'll see" (the Manager pressed +a button). "Send the chief engineer to me, George," as the chief clerk +looked in. + +All this time Jones smoked little short puffs, eyeing the Manager and +his own cigar. When the chief engineer came in he was introduced to Mr. +Jones, the man who was going to give Kansas the highest boom she had +ever had. + +While Jones stood in open-mouthed amazement, the Manager instructed the +engineer to go to Garden City when it would suit Mr. Jones, lay out a +siding that would hold fifty loads, and complete the job at the earliest +possible moment. + +"By the way, Mr. Jones, have you got transportation over our line?" + +Mr. Jones managed to gasp the one word, "No." + +"Buz-z-zz," went the bell. "George, make out an annual for Mr. +Jones,--Comp. G.M." + +Jones steadied himself by resting an elbow on the top of the Manager's +desk. The chief engineer was writing in a little note-book. + +"Now, Mr. Jones--ah, your cigar's out!--how much is this ten acres to +cost us?--a thousand dollars, I believe you told Mr. Rong." + +"Yes, I did tell him that; but if this is straight and no jolly, it +ain't goin' to cost you a cent." + +"Well, that's a _great_ deal better than most towns treat us," said the +Manager. "Now, Mr. Jones, you will have to excuse me; I have some +business with the President. Don't fail to look in on me when you come +to town; and rest assured that the Santa Fé will leave nothing undone +that might help your enterprise." + +With a hearty handshake the Manager, usually a little frigid and remote, +passed out, leaving Mr. Jones to the tender mercies of the chief +engineer. + +Up to this point there is nothing unusual in this story. The remarkable +part is the fact that the building of a side track in an open plain +turned out to be good business. In a year's time there was a neat +station and more sidings. The town boomed with a rapidity that amazed +even the boomers. To be sure, it had its relapses; but still, if you +look from the window as the California Limited crashes by, you will see +a pretty little town when you reach the point on the time-table called + + "Garden City." + + + + +THE IRON HORSE AND THE TROLLEY + + +I + +Two prospectors had three claims in a new camp in British Columbia, but +they had not the $7.50 to pay for having them recorded. They told their +story to Colonel Topping, author of "The Yellowstone Park," and the +Colonel advanced the necessary amount. In time the prospectors returned +$5.00 of the loan, and gave the Colonel one of the claims for the +balance, but more for his kindness to them; for they reckoned it a bully +good prospect. Because they considered it the best claim in the camp, +they called it Le Roi. Subsequently the Colonel sold this "King," that +had cost him $2.50, for $30,000.00. + +The new owners of Le Roi stocked the claim; and for the following two or +three years, when a man owed a debt that he was unwilling to pay, he +paid it in Le Roi stock. If he felt like backing a doubtful horse, he +put up a handful of mining stock to punish the winner. There is in the +history of this interesting mine a story of a man swapping a lot of Le +Roi stock for a burro. The former owner of the donkey took the stock and +the man it came from into court, declaring that the paper was worthless, +and that he had been buncoed. As late as 1894, a man who ran a +restaurant offered 40,000 shares of Le Roi stock for four barrels of +Canadian whiskey; but the whiskey man would not trade that way. + +In the meantime, however, men were working in the mine; and now they +began to ship ore. It was worth $27.00 a ton, and the stock became +valuable. Scattered over the Northwest were 500,000 shares that were +worth $500,000.00. Nearly all the men who had put money into the +enterprise were Yankees,--mining men from Spokane, just over the border. +These men began now to pick up all the stray shares that could be found; +and in a little while eight-tenths of the shares were held by men living +south of the line. At Northport, in Washington, they built one of the +finest smelters in the Northwest, hauled their ore over there, and +smelted it. The ore was rich in gold and copper. They put in a 300 +horse-power hoisting-engine and a 40-drill air-compressor,--the largest +in Canada,--taking all the money for these improvements out of the mine. +The thing was a success, and news of it ran down to Chicago. A party of +men with money started for the new gold fields, but as they were buying +tickets three men rushed in and took tickets for Seattle. These were +mining men; and those who had bought only to British Columbia cashed in, +asked for transportation to the coast, and followed the crowd to the +Klondike. + +In that way Le Roi for the moment was forgotten. + + +II + +The Lieutenant-Governor of the Northwest Territories, who had been a +journalist and had a nose for news, heard of the new camp. All the while +men were rushing to the Klondike, for it is the nature of man to go from +home for a thing that he might secure under his own vine. + +The Governor visited the new camp. A man named Ross Thompson had staked +out a town at the foot of Le Roi dump and called it Rossland. The +Governor put men to work quietly in the mine and then went back to his +plank palace at Regina, capital of the Northwest Territories,--to a +capital that looked for all the world like a Kansas frontier town that +had just ceased to be the county seat. Here for months he waited, +watching the "Imperial Limited" cross the prairie, receiving delegations +of half-breeds and an occasional report from one of the common miners in +Le Roi. If a capitalist came seeking a soft place to invest, the +Governor pointed to the West-bound Limited and whispered in the +stranger's ear. To all letters of inquiry coming from Ottawa or +England,--letters from men who wanted to be told where to dig for +gold,--he answered, "Klondike." + +By and by the Governor went to Rossland again. The mine, of which he +owned not a single share of stock, was still producing. When he left +Rossland he knew all about the lower workings, the value and extent of +the ore body. + +By this time nearly all the Le Roi shares were held by Spokane people. +The Governor, having arranged with a wealthy English syndicate, was in +a position to buy the mine; but the owners did not seem anxious to sell. +Eventually, however, when he was able to offer them an average of $7.50 +for shares that had cost the holders but from ten to sixty cents a +share, about half of them were willing to sell; the balance were not. +Now the Governor cared nothing for this "balance" so long as he could +secure a majority,--a controlling interest in the mine,--for the English +would have it in no other way. A few thousand scattering shares he had +already picked up, and now, from the faction who were willing to sell, +he secured an option on 242,000 shares, which, together with the odd +shares already secured, would put his friends in control of the +property. + +As news of the proposed sale got out, the gorge that was yawning between +the two factions grew wider. + +Finally, when the day arrived for the transfer to be made, the faction +opposed to the sale prepared to make trouble for those who were selling, +to prevent the moving of the seal of the company to Canada--in short, to +stop the sale. They did not go with guns to the secretary and keeper of +the seal and say, "Bide where ye be"; but they went into court and swore +out warrants for the arrest of the secretary and those of the directors +who favored the sale, charging them with conspiracy. + +It was midnight in Spokane. + +A black locomotive, hitched to a dark day-coach, stood in front of the +Great Northern station. The dim light of the gauge lamp showed two +nodding figures in the cab. Out on the platform a man walked up and +down, keeping an eye on the engine, that was to cost him a cool $1000.00 +for a hundred-mile run. Presently a man with his coat-collar about his +ears stepped up into the gangway, shook the driver, and asked him where +he was going. + +"Goin' to sleep." + +The man would not be denied, however, and when he became too pressing, +the driver got up and explained that the cab of his engine was his +castle, and made a move with his right foot. + +"Hold," cried his tormentor, "do you know that you are about to lay +violent hands upon an officer o' the law?" + +"No," said the engineer, "but I'll lay a violent foot up agin the +crown-sheet o' your trousers if you don't jump." + +The man jumped. + +Now the chief despatcher came from the station, stole along the shadow +side of the car, and spoke to the man who had ordered the train. + +A deputy sheriff climbed up on the rear end of the special, tried the +door, shaded his eyes, and endeavored to look into the car. + +"Have you the running orders?" asked the man who was paying for the +entertainment. + +"Yes." + +"Let her go, then." + +All this was in a low whisper; and now the despatcher climbed up on the +fireman's side and pressed a bit of crumpled tissue-paper into the +driver's hand. + +"Pull out over the switches slowly, and when you are clear of the yards +read your orders an' fly." + +The driver opened the throttle gently, the big wheels began to revolve, +and the next moment the sheriff and one of his deputies boarded the +engine. They demanded to know where that train was bound for. + +"The train," said the driver, tugging at the throttle, "is back there at +the station. I'm goin' to the round-house." + +When the sheriff, glancing back, saw that the coach had been cut off, he +swung himself down. + +"They've gi'n it up," said the deputy. + +"I reckon--what's that?" said the sheriff. It was the wild, long whistle +of the lone black engine just leaving the yards. The two officers faced +each other and stood listening to the flutter of the straight stack of +the black racer as she responded to the touch of the erstwhile drowsy +driver, who was at that moment laughing at the high sheriff, and who +would return to tell of it, and gloat in the streets of Spokane. + +The sheriff knew that three of the men for whom he held warrants were at +Hillier, seven miles on the way to Canada. This engine, then, had been +sent to pick them up and bear them away over the border. An electric +line paralleled the steam way to Hillier, and now the sheriff boarded a +trolley and set sail to capture the engine, leaving one deputy to guard +the special car. + +By the time the engineer got the water worked out of his cylinders, the +trolley was creeping up beside his tank. He saw the flash from the wire +above as the car, nodding and dipping like a light boat in the wake of a +ferry, shot beneath the cross-wires, and knew instantly that she was +after him. + +An electric car would not be ploughing through the gloom at that rate, +without a ray of light, merely for the fun of the thing. A smile of +contempt curled the lip of the driver as he cut the reverse-lever back +to the first notch, put on the injector, and opened the throttle yet a +little wider. + +The two machines were running almost neck and neck now. The trolley +cried, hissed, and spat fire in her mad effort to pass the locomotive. A +few stray sparks went out of the engine-stack, and fell upon the roof of +the racing car. At intervals of half a minute the fireman opened the +furnace door; and by the flare of light from the white-hot fire-box the +engine-driver could see the men on the teetering trolley,--the +motor-man, the conductor, the sheriff, and his deputy. + +Slowly now the black flier began to slip away from the electric machine. + +The driver, smiling across the glare of the furnace door at his silent, +sooty companion, touched the throttle again; and the great engine drew +away from the trolley, as a jack-rabbit who has been fooling with a +yellow dog passes swiftly out of reach of his silly yelp. + +Now the men on the trolley heard the wild, triumphant scream of the iron +horse whistling for Hillier. The three directors of Le Roi had been +warned by wire, and were waiting, ready to board the engine. + +The big wheels had scarcely stopped revolving when the men began to get +on. They had barely begun to turn again when the trolley dashed into +Hillier. The sheriff leaped to the ground and came running for the +engine. The wheels slipped; and each passing second brought the mighty +hand of the law, now outstretched, still nearer to the tail of the tank. +She was moving now, but the sheriff was doing better. Ten feet separated +the pursued and the pursuer. She slipped again, and the sheriff caught +the corner of the engine-tank. By this time the driver had got the sand +running; and now, as the wheels held the rail, the big engine bounded +forward, almost shaking the sheriff loose. With each turn of the wheels +the speed was increasing. The sheriff held on; and in three or four +seconds he was taking only about two steps between telegraph poles, and +then--he let go. + + +III + +While the locomotive and the trolley were racing across the country the +Governor, who was engineering it all, invested another thousand. He +ordered another engine, and when she backed onto the coach the deputy +sheriff told the driver that he must not leave the station. The engineer +held his torch high above his head, looked the deputy over, and then +went on oiling his engine. In the meantime the Governor had stored his +friends away in the dark coach, including the secretary with the +company's great seal. Now the deputy became uneasy. + +He dared not leave the train to send a wire to his chief at Hillier, for +the sheriff had said, "Keep your eye on the car." + +The despatcher, whose only interest in the matter was to run the trains +and earn money for his employer, having given written and verbal orders +to the engineer, watched his chance and, when the sheriff was pounding +on the rear door, dodged in at the front, signalling with the bell-rope +to the driver to go. Frantically now the deputy beat upon the rear door +of the car, but the men within only laughed as the wheels rattled over +the last switch and left the lights of Spokane far behind. + +Away they went over a new and crooked track, the sand and cinders +sucking in round the tail of the train to torment the luckless deputy. +Away over hills and rills, past Hillier, where the sheriff still stood +staring down the darkness after the vanishing engine; over switches and +through the Seven Devils, while the unhappy deputy hung to the rear +railing with one hand and crossed himself. + +Each passing moment brought the racing train still nearer the +border,--to that invisible line that marks the end of Yankeeland and the +beginning of the British possessions. The sheriff knew this and beat +loudly upon the car door with an iron gun. The Governor let the sash +fall at the top of the door and spoke, or rather yelled, to the deputy. + +To the Governor's amazement, the sheriff pushed the bottle aside. Dry +and dusty as he was, he would not drink. He was too mad to swallow. He +poked his head into the dark coach and ordered the whole party to +surrender. + +"Just say what you want," said a voice in the gloom, "and we'll pass it +out to you." + +The sheriff became busy with some curves and reverse curves now, and +made no reply. + +Presently the Governor came to the window in the rear door again and +called up the sheriff. + +"We are now nearing the border," he said to the man on the platform. +"They won't know you over there. Here you stand for law and order, and I +respect you, though I don't care to meet you personally; but over the +border you'll only stand for your sentence,--two years for carrying a +cannon on your hip,--and then they'll take you away to prison." + +The sheriff made no answer. + +"Now we're going to slow down at the line to about twenty miles an hour, +more or less; and if you'll take a little friendly advice, you'll fall +off." + +The train was still running at a furious pace. The whistle sounded,--one +long, wild scream,--and the speed of the train slackened. + +"Here you are," the Governor called, and the sheriff stood on the lower +step. + +The door opened and the Governor stepped out on the platform, followed +by his companions. + +"I arrest you," the sheriff shouted, "all of you." + +"But you can't,--you're in British Columbia," the men laughed. + +"Let go, now," said the Governor, and a moment later the deputy picked +himself up and limped back over the border. + + + + +IN THE BLACK CAÑON + + +One Christmas, at least, will live long in the memory of the men and +women who hung up their stockings at La Veta Hotel in Gunnison in 18--. +Ah, those were the best days of Colorado. Then folks were brave and true +to the traditions of Red Hoss Mountain, when "money flowed like liquor," +and coal strikes didn't matter, for the people all had something to +burn. + +The Yankee proprietor of the dining-stations on this mountain line had +made them as famous almost as the Harvey houses on the Santa Fé were; +which praise is pardonable, since the Limited train with its café car +has closed them all. + +But the best of the bunch was La Veta, and the presiding genius was Nora +O'Neal, the lady manager. Many an R. & W. excursionist reading this +story will recall her smile, her great gray eyes, her heaps of dark +brown hair, and the mountain trout that her tables held. + +It will be remembered that at that time the main lines of the Rio Grande +lay by the banks of the Gunnison, through the Black Cañon, over Cerro +Summit, and down the Uncompaghre and the Grande to Grand Junction, the +gate of the Utah Desert. + +John Cassidy was an express messenger whose run was over this route and +whose heart and its secret were in the keeping of Nora O'Neal. + +From day to day, from week to week, he had waited her answer, which was +to come to him "by Christmas." + +And now, as only two days remained, he dreaded it, as he had hoped and +prayed for it since the aspen leaves began to gather their gold. He knew +by the troubled look she wore when off her guard that Nora was thinking. + + * * * * * + +Most of the men who were gunning in Gunnison in the early 80's were +fearless men, who, when a difference of opinion arose, faced each other +and fought it out; but there had come to live at La Veta a thin, quiet, +handsome fellow, who moved mysteriously in and out of the camp, slept a +lot by day, and showed a fondness for faro by night. When a name was +needed he signed "Buckingham." His icy hand was soft and white, and his +clothes fitted him faultlessly. He was handsome, and when he paid his +bill at the end of the fourth week he proposed to Nora O'Neal. He was so +fairer, physically, than Cassidy and so darker, morally, that Nora could +not make up her mind at all, at all. + +In the shadow time, between sunset and gas-light, on the afternoon of +the last day but one before Christmas, Buck, as he came to be called, +leaned over the office counter and put a folded bit of white paper in +Nora's hand, saying, as he closed her fingers over it: "Put this powder +in Cassidy's cup." He knew Cassidy merely as the messenger whose freight +he coveted, and not as a contestant for Nora's heart and hand,--a hand +he prized, however, as he would a bob-tailed flush, but no more. + +As for Cassidy, he would be glad, waking, to find himself alive; and if +this plan miscarried, Buck should be able to side-step the gallows. +Anyway, dope was preferable to death. + +Nora opened her hand, and in utter amazement looked at the paper. Some +one interrupted them. Buck turned away, and Nora shoved the powder down +deep into her jacket pocket, feeling vaguely guilty. + +No. 7, the Salt Lake Limited, was an hour late that night. The regular +dinner (we called it supper then) was over when Shanley whistled in. + + * * * * * + +As the headlight of the Rockaway engine gleamed along the hotel windows, +Nora went back to see that everything was ready. + +In the narrow passage between the kitchen and the dining-room she met +Buckingham. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. + +"Now, my beauty," said Buck, laying a cold hand on her arm, "don't be +excited." + +She turned her honest eyes to him and he almost visibly shrank from +them, as she had shuddered at the strange, cold touch of his hand. + +"Put that powder in Cassidy's cup," he said, and in the half-light of +the little hallway she saw his cruel smile. + +"And kill Cassidy, the best friend I have on earth?" + +"It will not kill him, but it may save his life. I shall be in his car +to-night. Sabe? Do as I tell you. He will only fall asleep for a little +while, otherwise--well, he may oversleep himself." She would have passed +on, but he stayed her. "Where is it?" he demanded, with a meaning +glance. + +She touched her jacket pocket, and he released his hold on her arm. + +The shuffle and scuffle of the feet of hungry travellers who were piling +into the dining-room had disturbed them. Nora passed on to the rear, +Buck out to sit down and dine with the passengers, who always had a +shade the best of the bill. + +From his favorite seat, facing the audience, he watched the trainmen +tumbling into the alcove off the west wing, in one corner of which a +couple of Pullman porters in blue and gold sat at a small table, feeding +with their forks and behaving better than some of their white comrades +behaved. + + * * * * * + +Cassidy came in a moment later, sat down, and looked over to see if his +rival was in his accustomed place. The big messenger looked steadily at +the other man, who had never guessed the messenger's secret, and the +other man looked down. + +Already his supper, steaming hot, stood before him, while the table-girl +danced attendance for the tip she was always sure of at the finish. She +studied his tastes and knew his wants, from rare roast down to the +small, black coffee with which he invariably concluded his meal. + +When Buck looked up again he saw Nora approach the table, smile at +Cassidy, and put a cup of coffee down by his plate. + +The trainmen were soon through with their supper, being notoriously +rapid feeders,--which disastrous habit they acquire while on freight, +when they are expected to eat dinner and do an hour's switching in +twenty minutes. + +Unusually early for him, Buck passed out. Nora purposely avoided him, +but watched him from the unlighted little private office. She saw him +light a cigar and stroll down the long platform. At the rear of the last +Pullman he threw his cigar away and crossed quickly to the shadow side +of the train. She saw him pass along, for there were no vestibules +then, and made no doubt he was climbing into Cassidy's car. As the +messenger reached for his change, the cashier-manager caught his hand, +drew it across the counter, leaned toward him, saying excitedly: "Be +careful to-night, John; don't fall asleep or nod for a moment. Oh, be +careful!" she repeated, with ever-increasing intensity, her hot hand +trembling on his great wrist; "be careful, come back safe, and you shall +have your answer." + +When Cassidy came back to earth he was surrounded by half a dozen +good-natured passengers, men and women, who had come out of the +dining-room during the ten or fifteen seconds he had spent in Paradise. + +A swift glance at the faces about told him that they had seen, another +at Nora that she was embarrassed; but in two ticks of the office clock +he protected her, as he would his safe; for his work and time had +trained him to be ready instantly for any emergency. + +"Good-night, sister," he called cheerily, as he hurried toward the door. + +"Good-night, John," said Nora, glancing up from the till, radiant with +the excitement of her "sweet distress." + +"Oh, by Jove!" said a man. + +"Huh!" said a woman, and they looked like people who had just missed a +boat. + +With her face against the window, Nora watched the red lights on the +rear of No. 7 swing out to the main line. + + * * * * * + +Closing the desk, she climbed to her room on the third floor and knelt +by the window. Away out on the shrouded vale she saw the dark train +creeping, a solid stream of fire flowing from the short stack of the +"shotgun"; for Peasley was pounding her for all she was worth in an +honest effort to make up the hour that Shanley had lost in the +snowdrifts of Marshall Pass. Presently she heard the muffled roar of the +train on a trestle, and a moment later saw the Salt Lake Limited +swallowed by the Black Cañon, in whose sunless gorges many a driver died +before the scenery settled after having been disturbed by the builders +of the road. + +Over ahead in his quiet car Cassidy sat musing, smoking, and wondering +why Nora should seem so anxious about him. Turning, he glanced about. +Everything looked right, but the girl's anxiety bothered him. + +Picking up a bundle of way-bills, he began checking up. The engine +screamed for Sapinero, and a moment later he felt the list as they +rounded Dead Man's Curve. + +Unless they were flagged, the next stop would be at Cimarron, at the +other end of the cañon. + +His work done, the messenger lighted his pipe, settled himself in his +high-backed canvas camp-chair, and put his feet up on his box for a good +smoke. He tried to think of a number of things that had nothing whatever +to do with Nora, but somehow she invariably elbowed into his thoughts. + +He leaned over and opened his box--not the strong-box, but the wooden, +trunk-like box that holds the messenger's street-coat when he's on duty +and his jumper when he's off. On the under side of the lifted lid he had +fixed a large panel picture of Nora O'Neal. + + * * * * * + +Buckingham, peering over a piano-box, behind which he had hidden at +Gunnison, saw and recognized the photograph; for the messenger's white +light stood on the little safe near the picture. For half an hour he had +been watching Cassidy, wondering why he did not fall asleep. He had seen +Nora put the cup down with her own hand, to guard, as he thought, +against the possibility of a mistake. What will a woman not dare and do +for the man she loves? He sighed softly. He recalled now that he had +always exercised a powerful influence over women,--that is, the few he +had known,--but he was surprised that this consistent Catholic girl +should be so "dead easy." + +"And now look at this one hundred and ninety-eight pounds of egotism +sitting here smiling on the likeness of the lady who has just dropped +bug-dust in his coffee. It's positively funny." + +Such were the half-whispered musings of the would-be robber. + +He actually grew drowsy waiting for Cassidy to go to sleep. The car +lurched on a sharp curve, dislodging some boxes. Buck felt a strange, +tingling sensation in his fingers and toes. Presently he nodded. + +Cassidy sat gazing on the pictured face that had hovered over him in all +his dreams for months, and as he gazed, seemed to feel her living +presence. He rose as if to greet her, but kept his eyes upon the +picture. + +Suddenly realizing that something was wrong in his end of the car, Buck +stood up, gripping the top of the piano-box. The scream of the engine +startled him. The car crashed over the switch-frog at Curecanti, and +Curecanti's Needle stabbed the starry vault above. The car swayed +strangely and the lights grew dim. + +Suddenly the awful truth flashed through his bewildered brain. + +"O-o-o-oh, the wench!" he hissed, pulling his guns. + + * * * * * + +Cassidy, absorbed in the photo, heard a door slam; and it came to him +instantly that Nora had boarded the train at Gunnison, and that some one +was showing her over to the head end. As he turned to meet her, he saw +Buck staggering toward him, holding a murderous gun in each hand. +Instantly he reached for his revolver, but a double flash from the guns +of the enemy blinded him and put out the bracket-lamps. As the +messenger sprang forward to find his foe, the desperado lunged against +him. Cassidy grabbed him, lifted him bodily, and smashed him to the +floor of the car; but with the amazing tenacity and wonderful agility of +the trained gun-fighter, Buck managed to fire as he fell. The big bullet +grazed the top of Cassidy's head, and he fell unconscious across the +half-dead desperado. + +Buck felt about for his gun, which had fallen from his hand; but already +the "bug-dust" was getting in its work. Sighing heavily, he joined the +messenger in a quiet sleep. + +At Cimarron they broke the car open, revived the sleepers, restored the +outlaw to the Ohio State Prison, from which he had escaped, and the +messenger to Nora O'Neal. + + + + +JACK RAMSEY'S REASON + + +When Bill Ross romped up over the range and blew into Edmonton in the +wake of a warm chinook, bought tobacco at the Hudson's Bay store, and +began to regale the gang with weird tales of true fissures, paying +placers, and rich loads lying "virgin," as he said, in Northern British +Columbia, the gang accepted his tobacco and stories for what they were +worth; for it is a tradition up there that all men who come in with the +Mudjekeewis are liars. + +That was thirty years ago. + +The same chinook winds that wafted Bill Ross and his rose-hued romances +into town have winged them, and the memory of them, away. + +In the meantime Ross reformed, forgot, the people forgave and made him +Mayor of Edmonton. + + * * * * * + +When Jack Ramsey called at the capital of British Columbia and told of a +territory in that great Province where the winter winds blew warm, +where snow fell only once in a while and was gone again with the first +peep of the sun; of a mountain-walled wonderland between the Coast Range +and the Rockies, where flowers bloomed nine months in the year and gold +could be panned on almost any of the countless rivers, men said he had +come down from Alaska, and that he lied. + +To be sure, they did not say that to Jack,--they only telegraphed it one +to another over their cigars in the club. Some of them actually believed +it, and one man who had made money in California and later in Leadville +said he _knew_ it was so; for, said he, "Jack Ramsey never says or does +a thing without a 'reason.'" + +At the end of a week this English-bred Yankee had organized the "Chinook +Mining and Milling Company, Limited." + +This man was at the head of the scheme, with Jack Ramsey as Managing +Director. + +Ramsey was a prospector by nature made proficient by practice. He had +prospected in every mining camp from Mexico to Moose Factory. If he were +to find a real bonanza, his English-American friend used to say, he +would be miserable for the balance of his days, or rather his +to-morrows. He lived in his to-morrows,--in these and in dreams. He +loved women, wine, and music, and the laughter of little children; but +better than all these he loved the wilderness and the wildflowers and +the soft, low singing of mountain rills. He loved the flowers of the +North, for they were all sweet and innocent. On all the two thousand +five hundred miles of the Yukon, he used to say, there is not one +poisonous plant; and he reasoned that the plants of the Peace and the +Pine and the red roses of the Upper Athabasca would be the same. + +And so, one March morning, he sailed up the Sound to enter his +mountain-walled wonderland by the portal of Port Simpson, which opens on +the Pacific. His English-American friend went up as far as Simpson, and +when the little coast steamer poked her prow into Work Channel he +touched the President of the Chinook Mining and Milling Company and +said, "The Gateway to God's world." + + * * * * * + +The head of the C.M. & M. Company was not surprised when Christmas came +ahead of Jack Ramsey's preliminary report. Jack was a careful, +conservative prospector, and would not send a report unless there was a +good and substantial reason for writing it out. + +In the following summer a letter came,--an extremely short one, +considering what it contained; for it told, tersely, of great prospects +in the wonderland. It closed with a request for a new rifle, some +garden-seeds, and an H.B. letter of credit for five hundred dollars. + +After a warm debate among the directors it was agreed the goods should +go. + +The following summer--that is, the second summer in the life of the +Chinook Company--Dawson dawned on the world. That year about half the +floating population of the Republic went to Cuba and the other half to +the Klondike. + +As the stream swelled and the channel between Vancouver Island and the +mainland grew black with boats, the President of the C.M. & M. Company +began to pant for Ramsey, that he might join the rush to the North. That +exciting summer died and another dawned, with no news from Ramsey. + +When the adventurous English-American could withstand the strain no +longer, he shipped for Skagway himself. He dropped off at Port Simpson +and inquired about Ramsey. + +Yes, the Hudson people said, it was quite probable that Ramsey had +passed in that way. Some hundreds of prospectors had gone in during the +past three years, but the current created by the Klondike rush had drawn +most of them out and up the Sound. + +One man declared that he had seen Ramsey ship for Skagway on the +"Dirigo," and, after a little help and a few more drinks, gave a minute +description of a famous nugget pin which the passing pilgrim said the +prospector wore. + +And so the capitalist took the next boat for Skagway. + +By the time he reached Dawson the death-rattle had begun to assert +itself in the bosom of the boom. The most diligent inquiry failed to +reveal the presence of the noted prospector. On the contrary, many +old-timers from Colorado and California declared that Ramsey had never +reached the Dike--that is, not since the boom. In a walled tent on a +shimmering sand-bar at the mouth of the crystal Klondike, Captain Jack +Crawford, the "Poet Scout," severely sober in that land of large +thirsts, wearing his old-time halo of lady-like behavior and hair, was +conducting an "Ice Cream Emporium and Soft-drink Saloon." + +"No," said the scout, with the tips of his tapered fingers trembling on +an empty table, straining forward and staring into the stranger's face; +"no, Jack Ramsey has not been here; and if what you say be true--he +sleeps alone in yonder fastness. Alas, poor Ramsey!--Ah knew 'im well"; +and he sank on a seat, shaking with sobs. + + * * * * * + +The English-American, on his way out, stopped at Simpson again. From a +half-breed trapper he heard of a white man who had crossed the Coast +Range three grasses ago. This white man had three or four head of +cattle, a Cree servant, and a queer-looking cayuse with long ears and a +mournful, melancholy cry. This latter member of the gang carried the +outfit. + +Taking this half-caste Cree to guide him, the mining man set out in +search of the long-lost Ramsey. They crossed the first range and +searched the streams north of the Peace River pass, almost to the crest +of the continent, but found no trace of the prospector. + +When the summer died and the wilderness was darkened by the Northern +night, the search was abandoned. + +The years drifted into the past, and finally the Chinook Mining and +Milling Company went to the wall. The English-American promoter, +smarting under criticism, reimbursed each of his associates and took +over the office, empty ink-stands and blotting paper, and so blotted out +all records of the one business failure of his life. + +But he could not blot out Jack Ramsey from his memory. There was a +"reason," he would say, for Ramsey's silence. + +One day, when in Edmonton, he met Mayor Ross, who had come into the +country by the back door some thirty years ago. The tales coaxed from +the Mayor's memory corresponded with Ramsey's report; and having nothing +but time and money, the ex-President of the C.M. & M. Company determined +to go in _via_ the Peace River pass and see for himself. He made the +acquaintance of Smith "The Silent," as he was called, who was at that +time pathfinding for the Grand Trunk Pacific, and secured permission to +go in with the engineers. + +At Little Slave Lake he picked up Jim Cromwell, a free-trader, who +engaged to guide the mining man into the wonderland he had described. + +The story of Ramsey and his rambles appealed to Cromwell, who talked +tirelessly, and to the engineer, who listened long; and in time the +habitants of Cromwell's domains, which covered a country some seven +hundred miles square, all knew the story and all joined in the search. + +Beyond the pass of the Peace an old Cree caught up with them and made +signs, for he was deaf and dumb. But strange as it may seem, somehow, +somewhere, he had heard the story of the lost miner and knew that this +strange white man was the miner's friend. + +Long he sat by the camp fire, when the camp was asleep, trying, by +counting on his fingers and with sticks, to make Cromwell understand +what was on his mind. + +When day dawned, he plucked Cromwells' sleeve, then walked away fifteen +or twenty steps, stopped, unrolled his blankets, and lay down, closing +his eyes as if asleep. Presently he got up, rubbed his eyes, lighted his +pipe, smoked for awhile, then knocked the fire out on a stone. Then he +got up, stamped the fire out as though it had been a camp fire, rolled +up his blankets, and travelled on down the slope some twenty feet and +repeated the performance. On the next march he made but ten feet. He +stopped, put his pack down, seated himself on the trunk of a fallen tree +and, with his back to Cromwell, began gesticulating, as if talking to +some one, nodding and shaking his head. Then he got a pick and began +digging. + +At the end of an hour Cromwell and the engineer had agreed that these +stations were day's marches and the rests camping places. In short, it +was two and a half "sleeps" to what he wanted to show them,--a prospect, +a gold mine maybe,--and so Cromwell and the English-American detached +themselves and set out at the heels of the mute Cree in search of +something. + +On the morning of the third day the old Indian could scarcely control +himself, so eager was he to be off. + +All through the morning the white men followed him in silence. Noon +came, and still the Indian pushed on. + +At two in the afternoon, rounding the shoulder of a bit of highland +overlooking a beautiful valley, they came suddenly upon a half-breed boy +playing with a wild goose that had been tamed. + +Down in the valley a cabin stood, and over the valley a small drove of +cattle were grazing. + +Suddenly from behind the hogan came the weird wail of a Colorado canary, +who would have been an ass in Absalom's time. + +They asked the half-breed boy his name, and he shook his head. They +asked for his father, and he frowned. + +The mute old Indian took up a pick, and they followed him up the slope. +Presently he stopped at a stake upon which they could still read the +faint pencil-marks:-- + + C.M. + M. Co. + L'T'D + +The old Indian pointed to the ground with an expression which looked to +the white men like an interrogation. Cromwell nodded, and the Indian +began to dig. Cromwell brought a shovel, and they began sinking a shaft. + +The English-American, with a sickening, sinking sensation, turned toward +the cabin. The boy preceded him and stood in the door. The man put his +hand on the boy's head and was about to enter when he caught sight of a +nugget at the boy's neck. He stooped and lifted it. The boy shrank back, +but the man, going deadly pale, clutched the child, dragging the nugget +from his neck. + +Now all the Indian in the boy's savage soul asserted itself, and he +fought like a little demon. Pitying the child in its impotent rage, the +man gave him the nugget and turned away. + +Across the valley an Indian woman came walking rapidly, her arms full of +turnips and onions and other garden-truck. The white man looked and +loathed her; for he felt confident that Ramsey had been murdered, his +trinkets distributed, and his carcass cast to the wolves. + +When the boy ran to meet the woman, the white man knew by his behavior +that he was her child. When the boy had told his mother how the white +man had behaved, she flew into a rage, dropped her vegetables, dived +into the cabin, and came out with a rifle in her hands. To her evident +surprise the man seemed not to dread death, but stood staring at the +rifle, which he recognized as the rifle he had sent to Ramsey. To his +surprise she did not shoot, but uttering a strange cry, started up the +slope, taking the gun with her. With rifle raised and flashing eyes she +ordered the two men out of the prospect hole. Warlike as she seemed, she +was more than welcome, for she was a woman and could talk. She talked +Cree, of course, but it sounded good to Cromwell. Side by side the +handsome young athlete and the Cree woman sat and exchanged stories. + +Half an hour later the Englishman came up and asked what the prospect +promised. + +"Ah," said Cromwell, sadly, "this is another story. There is no gold in +this vale, though from what this woman tells me the hills are full of +it. However," he added, "I believe we have found your friend." + +"Yes?" queried the capitalist. + +"Yes," echoed Cromwell, "here are his wife and his child; and here, +where we're grubbing, his grave." + +"Quite so, quite so," said the big, warm-hearted English-American, +glaring at the ground; "and that was Ramsey's 'reason' for not +writing." + + + + +THE GREAT WRECK ON THE PÈRE MARQUETTE + + +The reader is not expected to believe this red tale; but if he will take +the trouble to write the General Manager of the Père Marquette Railroad, +State of Michigan, U.S.A. enclosing stamped envelope for answer, I make +no doubt that good man, having by this time recovered from the dreadful +shock occasioned by the wreck, will cheerfully verify the story even to +the minutest detail. + + * * * * * + +Of course Kelly, being Irish, should have been a Democrat; but he was +not. He was not boisterously or offensively Republican, but he was going +to vote the prosperity ticket. He had tried it four years ago, and +business had never been better on the Père Marquette. Moreover, he had a +new hand-car. + +The management had issued orders to the effect that there must be no +coercion of employees. It was pretty well understood among the men that +the higher officials would vote the Republican ticket and leave the +little fellows free to do the same. So Kelly, being boss of the gang, +could not, with "ju" respect to the order of the Superintendent, enter +into the argument going on constantly between Burke and Shea on one side +and Lucien Boseaux, the French-Canadian-Anglo-Saxon-Foreign-American +Citizen, on the other. This argument always reached its height at +noon-time, and had never been more heated than now, it being the day +before election. "Here is prosper tee," laughed Lucien, holding up a +half-pint bottle of _vin rouge_. + +"Yes," Burke retorted, "an' ye have four pound of cotton waste in the +bottom o' that bucket to trow the grub t' the top. Begad, I'd vote for +O'Bryan wid an empty pail--er none at all--before I'd be humbugged." + +"Un I," said Lucien, "would pour Messieur Rousveau vote if my baskett +shall all the way up be cotton." + +"Sure ye would," said Shea, "and ate the cotton too, ef your masther +told ye to. 'Tis the likes of ye, ye bloomin' furreighner, that kapes +the thrust alive in this country." + +When they were like to come to blows, Kelly, with a mild show of +superiority, which is second nature to a section boss, would interfere +and restore order. All day they worked and argued, lifting low joints +and lowering high centres; and when the red sun sank in the tree-tops, +filtering its gold through the golden leaves, they lifted the car onto +the rails and started home. + +When the men had mounted, Lucien at the forward handle and Burke and +Shea side by side on the rear bar, they waited impatiently for Kelly to +light his pipe and seat himself comfortably on the front of the car, his +heels hanging near to the ties. + +There was no more talk now. The men were busy pumping, the "management" +inspecting the fish-plates, the culverts, and, incidentally, watching +the red sun slide down behind the trees. + +At the foot of a long slope, down which the men had been pumping with +all their might, there was a short bridge. The forest was heavy here, +and already the shadow of the woods lay over the right-of-way. As the +car reached the farther end of the culvert, the men were startled by a +great explosion. The hand-car was lifted bodily and thrown from the +track. + +The next thing Lucien remembers is that he woke from a fevered sleep, +fraught with bad dreams, and felt warm water running over his chest. He +put his hand to his shirt-collar, removed it, and found it red with +blood. Thoroughly alarmed, he got to his feet and looked, or rather +felt, himself over. His fingers found an ugly ragged gash in the side of +his neck, and the fear and horror of it all dazed him. + + * * * * * + +He reeled and fell again, but this time did not lose consciousness. + +Finally, when he was able to drag himself up the embankment to where the +car hung crosswise on the track, the sight he saw was so appalling he +forgot his own wounds. + +On the side opposite to where he had fallen, Burke and Shea lay side by +side, just as they had walked and worked and fought for years, and just +as they would have voted on the morrow had they been spared. +Immediately in front of the car, his feet over one rail and his neck +across the other, lay the mortal remains of Kelly the boss, the stub of +his black pipe still sticking between his teeth. As Lucien stooped to +lift the helpless head his own blood, spurting from the wound in his +neck, flooded the face and covered the clothes of the limp foreman. +Finding no signs of life in the section boss, the wounded, and by this +time thoroughly frightened, French-Canadian turned his attention to the +other two victims. Swiftly now the realization of the awful tragedy came +over the wounded man. His first thought was of the express now nearly +due. With a great effort he succeeded in placing the car on the rails, +and then began the work of loading the dead. Out of respect for the +office so lately filled by Kelly, he was lifted first and placed on the +front of the car, his head pillowed on Lucien's coat. Next he put Burke +aboard, bleeding profusely the while; and then began the greater task of +loading Shea. Shea was a heavy man, and by the time Lucien had him +aboard he was ready to faint from exhaustion and the loss of blood. + +Now he must pump up over the little hill; for if the express should come +round the curve and fall down the grade, the hand-car would be in +greater danger than ever. + +After much hard work he gained the top of the hill, the hot blood +spurting from his neck at each fall of the handle-bar, and went hurrying +down the long easy grade to Charlevoix. + +To show how the trifles of life will intrude at the end, it is +interesting to hear Lucien declare that one of the first thoughts that +came to him on seeing the three prostrate figures was, that up to that +moment the wreck had worked a Republican gain of one vote, with his own +in doubt. + +But now he had more serious work for his brain, already reeling from +exhaustion. At the end of fifteen minutes he found himself hanging onto +the handle, more to keep from falling than for any help he was giving +the car. The evening breeze blowing down the slope helped him, so that +the car was really losing nothing in speed. He dared not relax his hold; +for if his strength should give out and the car stop, the express would +come racing down through the twilight and scoop him into eternity. So he +toiled on, dazed, stupefied, fighting for life, surrounded by the dead. + +Presently above the singing of the wheels he heard a low sound, like a +single, smothered cough of a yard engine suddenly reversed. Now he had +the feeling of a man flooded with ice-water, so chilled was his blood. +Turning his head to learn the cause of delay (he had fancied the pilot +of an engine under his car), he saw Burke, one of the dead men, leap up +and glare into his face. That was too much for Lucien, weak as he was, +and twisting slightly, he sank to the floor of the car. + +Slowly Burke's wandering reason returned. Seeing Shea at his feet, +bloodless and apparently unhurt, he kicked him, gently at first, and +then harder, and Shea stood up. Mechanically the waking man took his +place by Burke's side and began pumping, Lucien lying limp between them. +Kelly, they reasoned, must have been dead some time, by the way he was +pillowed. + +When Shea was reasonably sure that he was alive, he looked at his mate. + +"Phat way ar're ye feelin'?" asked Burke. + +"Purty good fur a corpse. How's yourself?" + +"Oh, so-so!" + +"Th' Lord is good to the Irish." + +"But luck ut poor Kelly." + +"'Tis too bad," said Shea, "an' him dyin' a Republican." + +"'Tis the way a man lives he must die." + +"Yes," said Shea, thoughtfully, "thim that lives be the sword must go be +the board." + +When they had pumped on silently for awhile, Shea asked, "How did ye +load thim, Burke?" + +"Why--I--I suppose I lifted them aboard. I had no derrick." + +"Did ye lift me, Burke?" + +"I'm damned if I know, Shea," said Burke, staring ahead, for Kelly had +moved. "Keep her goin'," he added, and then he bent over the prostrate +foreman. He lifted Kelly's head, and the eyes opened. He raised the head +a little higher, and Kelly saw the blood upon his beard, on his coat, on +his hands. + +"Are yez hurted, Kelly?" he asked. + +"Hurted! Man, I'm dyin'. Can't you see me heart's blood ebbin' over me?" +And then Burke, crossing himself, laid the wounded head gently down +again. + +By this time they were nearing their destination. Burke, seeing Lucien +beyond human aid, took hold again and helped pump, hoping to reach +Charlevoix in time to secure medical aid, or a priest at least, for +Kelly. + +When the hand-car stopped in front of the station at Charlevoix, the +employees watching, and the prospective passengers waiting, for the +express train gathered about the car. + +"Get a docther!" shouted Burke, as the crowd closed in on them. + +In a few moments a man with black whiskers, a small hand-grip, and +bicycle trousers panted up to the crowd and pushed his way to the car. + +"What's up?" he asked; for he was the company's surgeon. + +"Well, there's wan dead, wan dying, and we're all more or less kilt," +said Shea, pushing the mob back to give the doctor room. + +Lifting Lucien's head, the doctor held a small bottle under his nose, +and the wounded man came out. Strong, and the reporter would say +"willing hands," now lifted the car bodily from the track and put it +down on the platform near the baggage-room. + +When the doctor had revived the French-Canadian and stopped the flow of +blood, he took the boss in hand. Opening the man's clothes, he searched +for the wound, but found none. + +They literally stripped Kelly to the waist; but there was not a scratch +to be found upon his body. When the doctor declared it to be his opinion +that Kelly was not hurt at all, but had merely fainted, Kelly was +indignant. + +Of course the whole accident (Lucien being seriously hurt) had to be +investigated, and this was the finding of the experts:-- + +A tin torpedo left on the rail by a flagman was exploded by the wheel of +the hand-car. A piece of tin flew up, caught Lucien in the neck, making +a nasty wound. Lucien was thrown from the car, when it jumped the track, +so violently as to render him unconscious. Kelly and Burke and Shea, +picking themselves up, one after the other, each fainted dead away at +the sight of so much blood. + +Lucien revived first, took in the situation, loaded the limp bodies, and +pulled for home, and that is the true story of the awful wreck on the +Père Marquette. + + + + +THE STORY OF AN ENGLISHMAN + + +A young Englishman stood watching a freight train pulling out of a new +town, over a new track. A pinch-bar, left carelessly by a section gang, +caught in the cylinder-cock rigging and tore it off. + +Swearing softly, the driver climbed down and began the nasty work of +disconnecting the disabled machinery. He was not a machinist. Not all +engine-drivers can put a locomotive together. In fact the best runners +are just runners. The Englishman stood by and, when he saw the man +fumble his wrench, offered a hand. The driver, with some hesitation, +gave him the tools, and in a few minutes the crippled rigging was taken +down, nuts replaced, and the rigging passed by the Englishman to the +fireman, who threw it up on the rear of the tank. + +"Are you a mechanic?" asked the driver. + +"Yes, sir," said the Englishman, standing at least a foot above the +engineer. "There's a job for me up the road, if I can get there." + +"And you're out of tallow?" + +The Englishman was not quite sure; but he guessed "tallow" was United +States for "money," and said he was short. + +"All right," said the engine-driver; "climb on." + +The fireman was a Dutchman named Martin, and he made the Englishman +comfortable; but the Englishman wanted to work. He wanted to help fire +the engine, and Martin showed him how to do it, taking her himself on +the hills. When they pulled into the town of E., the Englishman went +over to the round-house and the foreman asked him if he had ever +"railroaded." He said No, but he was a machinist. "Well, I don't want +you," said the foreman, and the Englishman went across to the little +eating-stand where the trainmen were having dinner. Martin moved over +and made room for the stranger between himself and his engineer. + +"What luck?" asked the latter. + +"Hard luck," was the answer, and without more talk the men hurried on +through the meal. + +They had to eat dinner and do an hour's switching in twenty minutes. +That is an easy trick when nobody is looking. You arrive, eat dinner, +then register in. That is the first the despatcher hears of you at E. +You switch twenty minutes and register out. That is the last the +despatcher hears of you at E. You switch another twenty minutes and go. +That is called stealing time; and may the Manager have mercy on you if +you're caught at it, for you've got to make up that last twenty minutes +before you hit the next station. + +As the engineer dropped a little oil here and there for another dash, +the Englishman came up to the engine. He could not bring himself to ask +the driver for another ride, and he didn't need to. + +"You don't get de jobs?" asked Martin. + +"No." + +"Vell, dat's all right; you run his railroad some day." + +"I don't like the agent here," said the driver; "but if you were up at +the other end of the yard, over on the left-hand side, he couldn't see +you, and I couldn't see you for the steam from that broken +cylinder-cock." + +Now they say an Englishman is slow to catch on, but this one was not; +and as the engine rattled over the last switch, he climbed into the cab +in a cloud of steam. Martin made him welcome again, pointing to a seat +on the waste-box. The dead-head took off his coat, folded it carefully, +laid it on the box, and reached for the shovel. "Not yet," said Martin, +"dare is holes already in de fire; I must get dose yello smoke from de +shtack off." + +The dead-head leaned from the window, watching the stack burn clear, +then Martin gave him the shovel. Half-way up a long, hard hill the +pointer on the steam-gauge began to go back. The driver glanced over at +Martin, and Martin took the shovel. The dead-head climbed up on the tank +and shovelled the coal down into the pit, that was now nearly empty. In +a little while they pulled into the town of M.C., Iowa, at the crossing +of the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. Paul. Here the Englishman had to +change cars. His destination was on the cross-road, still one hundred +and eighteen miles away. The engine-driver took the joint agent to one +side, the agent wrote on a small piece of paper, folded it carefully, +and gave it to the Englishman. "This may help you," said he; "be +quick--they're just pulling out--run!" + +Panting, the Englishman threw himself into a way-car that was already +making ten miles an hour. The train official unfolded the paper, read +it, looked the Englishman over, and said, "All right." + +It was nearly night when the train arrived at W., and the dead-head +followed the train crew into an unpainted pine hotel, where all hands +fell eagerly to work. A man stood behind a little high desk at the door +taking money; but when the Englishman offered to pay he said, "Yours is +paid fer." + +"Not mine; nobody knows me here." + +"Then, 'f the devil don't know you better than I do you're lost, young +man," said the landlord. "But some one p'inted to you and said, 'I pay +fer him.' It ain't a thing to make a noise about. It don't make no +difference to me whether it's Tom or Jerry that pays, so long as +everybody represents." + +"Well, this is a funny country," mused the Englishman, as he strolled +over to the shop. Now when he heard the voice of the foreman, with its +musical burr, which stamped the man as a Briton from the Highlands, his +heart grew glad. The Scotchman listened to the stranger's story without +any sign of emotion or even interest; and when he learned that the man +had "never railroaded," but had been all his life in the British +Government service, he said he could do nothing for him, and walked +away. + +The young man sat and thought it over, and concluded he would see the +master-mechanic. On the following morning he found that official at his +desk and told his story. He had just arrived from England with a wife +and three children and a few dollars. "That's all right," said the +master-mechanic; "I'll give you a job on Monday morning." + +This was Saturday, and during the day the first foreman with whom the +Englishman had talked wired that if he would return to E. he could find +work. The young man showed this wire to the master-mechanic. "I should +like to work for you," said he; "you have been very kind to give me +employment after the foreman had refused, but my family is near this +place. They are two hundred miles or more from here." + +"I understand," said the kind-hearted official, "and you'd better go +back to E." + +The Englishman rubbed his chin and looked out of the window. The train +standing at the station and about to pull out would carry him back to +the junction, but he made no effort to catch it, and the +master-mechanic, seeing this, caught the drift of the young man's mind. +"Have you transportation?" he asked. The stranger, smiling, shook his +head. Turning to his desk, the master-mechanic wrote a pass to the +junction and a telegram requesting transportation over the Iowa Central +from the junction to the town of E. + +That Sunday the young man told his young wife that the new country was +"all right." Everybody trusted everybody else. An official would give a +stranger free transportation; a station agent could give you a pass, and +even an engine-driver could carry a man without asking permission. + +He didn't know that all these men save the master-mechanic had violated +the rules of the road and endangered their own positions and the chance +of promotion by helping him; but he felt he was among good, kind people, +and thanked them just the same. + +On Monday morning he went to work in the little shop. In a little while +he was one of the trustworthy men employed in the place. "How do you +square a locomotive?" he asked the foreman. "Here," said the foreman; +"from this point to that." + +That was all the Englishman asked. He stretched a line between the given +points and went to work. + +Two years from this the town of M. offered to donate to the railroad +company $47,000 if the new machine shop could be located there, steam up +and machinery running, on the first day of January of the following +year. + +The general master-mechanic entrusted the work of putting in the +machinery, after the walls had been built and the place roofed over, to +the division master-mechanic, who looked to the local foreman to finish +the job in time to win the subsidy. + +The best months of the year went by before work was begun. Frost came, +and the few men tinkering about were chilled by the autumn winds that +were wailing through the shutterless doors and glassless windows. +Finally the foreman sent the Englishman to M. to help put up the +machinery. He was a new man, and therefore was expected to take signals +from the oldest man on the job,--a sort of straw-boss. + +The bridge boss--the local head of the wood-workers--found the +Englishman gazing about, and the two men talked together. There was no +foreman there, but the Englishman thought he ought to work anyway; so he +and the wood boss stretched a line for a line-shaft, and while the +carpenter's gang put up braces and brackets the Englishman coupled the +shaft together, and in a few days it was ready to go up. As the young +man worked and whistled away one morning, the boss carpenter came in +with a military-looking gentleman, who seemed to own the place. "Where +did you come from?" asked the new-comer of the machinist. + +"From England, sir." + +"Well, anybody could tell that. Where did you come from when you came +here?" + +"From E." + +"Well, sir, can you finish this job and have steam up here on the first +of January?" + +The Englishman blushed, for he was embarrassed, and glanced at the wood +boss. Then, sweeping the almost empty shop with his eye, he said +something about a foreman who was in charge of the work. "Damn the +foreman," said the stranger; "I'm talking to you." + +The young man blushed again, and said he could work twelve or fourteen +hours a day for a time if it were necessary, but he didn't like to make +any rash promises about the general result. + +"Now look here," said the well-dressed man, "I want you to take charge +of this job and finish it; employ as many men as you can handle, and +blow a whistle here on New Year's morning--do you understand?" + +The Englishman thought he did, but he could hardly believe it. He +glanced at the wood boss, and the wood boss nodded his head. + +"I shall do my best," said the Englishman, taking courage, "but I should +like to know who gives these orders." + +"I'm the General Manager," said the man; "now get a move on you," and +he turned and walked out. + +It is not to be supposed that the General Manager saw anything +remarkable about the young man, save that he was six feet and had a good +face. The fact is, the wood foreman had boomed the Englishman's stock +before the Manager saw him. + +The path of the Englishman was not strewn with flowers for the next few +months. Any number of men who had been on the road when he was in the +English navy-yards felt that they ought to have had this little +promotion. The local foremen along the line saw in the young Englishman +the future foreman of the new shops, and no man went out of his way to +help the stranger. But in spite of all obstacles, the shop grew from day +to day, from week to week; so that as the old year drew to a close the +machinery was getting into place. The young foreman, while a hard +worker, was always pleasant in his intercourse with the employees, and +in a little while he had hosts of friends. There is always a lot of +extra work at the end of a big job, and now when Christmas came there +was still much to do. The men worked night and day. The boiler that was +to come from Chicago had been expected for some time. Everything was in +readiness, and it could be set up in a day; but it did not come. +Tracer-letters that had gone after it were followed by telegrams; +finally it was located in a wreck out in a cornfield in Illinois on the +last day of the year. + +A great many of the officials were away, and the service was generally +demoralized during the holidays, so that the appropriation for which the +Englishman was working at M. had for the moment been forgotten; the +shops were completed, the machinery was in, but there was no boiler to +boil water to make steam. + +That night, when the people of M. were watching the old year out and the +new year in, the young Englishman with a force of men was wrecking the +pump-house down by the station. The little upright boiler was torn out +and placed in the machine shops, and with it a little engine was driven +that turned the long line-shaft. + +At dawn they ran a long pipe through the roof, screwed a locomotive +whistle on the top of it, and at six o'clock on New Year's morning the +new whistle on the new shops at M. in Iowa, blew in the new year. +Incidentally, it blew the town in for $47,000. + +This would be a good place to end this story, but the temptation is +great to tell the rest. + +When the shops were opened, the young Englishman was foreman. This was +only about twenty-five years ago. In a little while they promoted him. + +In 1887 he went to the Wisconsin Central. In 1890 he was made +Superintendent of machinery of the Santa Fé route,--one of the longest +roads on earth. It begins at Chicago, strong like a man's wrist, with a +finger each on Sacramento, San Francisco, San Diego, and El Paso, and a +thumb touching the Gulf at Galveston. + +The mileage of the system, at that time, was equal to one-half that of +Great Britain; and upon the companies' payrolls were ten thousand more +men than were then in the army of the United States. Fifteen hundred men +and boys walk into the main shops at Topeka every morning. They work +four hours, eat luncheon, listen to a lecture or short sermon in the +meeting-place above the shops, work another four hours, and walk out +three thousand dollars better off than they would have been if they had +not worked. + +These shops make a little city of themselves. There is a perfect water +system, fire-brigade with fire stations where the firemen sleep, police, +and a dog-catcher. + +Here they build anything of wood, iron, brass, or steel that the company +needs, from a ninety-ton locomotive to a single-barrelled mouse-trap, +all under the eye of the Englishman who came to America with a good wife +and three babies, a good head and two hands. This man's name is John +Player. He is the inventor of the Player truck, the Player hand-car, the +Player frog, and many other useful appliances. + +This simple story of an unpretentious man came out in broken sections as +the special sped along the smooth track, while the General Manager +talked with the resident director and the General Superintendent talked +with his assistant, who, not long ago, was the conductor of a work-train +upon which the G.S. was employed as brakeman. I was two days stealing +this story, between the blushes of the mechanical Superintendent. + +He related, also, that a man wearing high-cut trousers and milk on his +boot had entered his office when he had got to his first position as +master-mechanic and held out a hand, smiling, "Vell, you don't know me +yet, ain't it? I'm Martin the fireman; I quit ranchin' already, an' I +want a jobs." + +Martin got a job at once. He got killed, also, in a little while; but +that is part of the business on a new road. + +Near the shops at Topeka stands the railroad Young Men's Christian +Association building. They were enlarging it when I was there. There are +no "saloons" in Kansas, so Player and his company help the men to +provide other amusements. + + + + +ON THE LIMITED + + +One Sabbath evening, not long ago, I went down to the depot in an +Ontario town to take the International Limited for Montreal. She was on +the blackboard five minutes in disgrace. "Huh!" grunted a commercial +traveller. It was Sunday in the aforesaid Ontario town, and would be +Sunday in Toronto, toward which he was travelling. Even if we were on +time we should not arrive until 9.30--too late for church, too early to +go to bed, and the saloons all closed and barred. And yet this restless +traveller fretted and grieved because we promised to get into Toronto +five minutes late. Alas for the calculation of the train despatchers, +she was seven minutes overdue when she swept in and stood for us to +mount. The get-away was good, but at the eastern yard limits we lost +again. The people from the Pullmans piled into the café car and +overflowed into the library and parlor cars. The restless traveller +snapped his watch again, caught the sleeve of a passing trainman, and +asked "'S matter?" and the conductor answered, "Waiting for No. 5." Five +minutes passed and not a wheel turned; six, eight, ten minutes, and no +sound of the coming west-bound express. Up ahead we could hear the +flutter and flap of the blow-off; for the black flier was as restless as +the fat drummer who was snapping his watch, grunting "Huh," and washing +suppressed profanity down with _café noir_. + +Eighteen minutes and No. 5 passed. When the great black steed of steam +got them swinging again we were twenty-five minutes to the bad. And how +that driver did hit the curves! The impatient traveller snapped his +watch again and said, refusing to be comforted, "She'll never make it." + +Mayhap the fat and fretful drummer managed to communicate with the +engine-driver, or maybe the latter was unhappily married or had an +insurance policy; and it is also possible that he is just the devil to +drive. Anyway, he whipped that fine train of Pullmans, café, and parlor +cars through those peaceful, lamplighted, Sabbath-keeping Ontario towns +as though the whole show had cost not more than seven dollars, and his +own life less. + +On a long lounge in the library car a well-nourished lawyer lay sleeping +in a way that I had not dreamed a political lawyer could sleep. One +gamey M.P.--double P, I was told--had been robbing this same lawyer of a +good deal of rest recently, and he was trying at a mile a minute to +catch up with his sleep. I could feel the sleeper slam her flanges +against the ball of the rail as we rounded the perfectly pitched curves, +and the little semi-quaver that tells the trained traveller that the man +up ahead is moving the mile-posts, at least one every minute. At the +first stop, twenty-five miles out, the fat drummer snapped his watch +again, but he did not say, "Huh." We had made up five minutes. + +A few passengers swung down here, and a few others swung up; and off we +dashed, drilling the darkness. I looked in on the lawyer again, for I +would have speech with him; but he was still sleeping the sleep of the +virtuous, with the electric light full on his upturned baby face, that +reminds me constantly of the late Tom Reed. + +A woman I know was putting one of her babies to bed in lower 2, when we +wiggled through a reverse curve that was like shooting White Horse +Rapids in a Peterboro. The child intended for lower 2 went over into 4. +"Never mind," said its mother, "we have enough to go around;" and so she +left that one in 4 and put the next one in 2, and so on. + +At the next stop where you "Y" and back into the town, the people, +impatient, were lined up, ready to board the Limited. When we swung over +the switches again, we were only ten minutes late. + +As often as the daring driver eased off for a down grade I could hear +the hiss of steam through the safety-valve above the back of the black +flier, and I could feel the flanges against the ball of the rail, and +the little tell-tale semi-quaver of the car. + +By now the babies were all abed; and from bunk to bunk she tucked them +in, kissed them good-night, and then cuddled down beside the last one, a +fair-haired girl who seemed to have caught and kept, in her hair and in +her eyes, the sunshine of the three short summers through which she had +passed. + +Once more I went and stood by the lounge where the lawyer lay, but I had +not the nerve to wake him. + +The silver moon rose and lit the ripples on the lake that lay below my +window as the last of the diners came from the café car. Along the shore +of the sleeping lake our engine swept like a great, black, wingless bird +of night. Presently I felt the frogs of South Parkdale; and when, from +her hot throat she called "Toronto," the fat and fretful traveller +opened his great gold watch. He did not snap it now, but looked into its +open face and almost smiled; for we were touching Toronto on the tick of +time. + +I stepped from the car, for I was interested in the fat drummer. I +wanted to see him meet her, and hold her hand, and tell her what a +really, truly, good husband he had been, and how he had hurried home. As +he came down the short stair a friend faced him and said "Good-night," +where we say "Good-evening." "Hello, Bill," said the fat drummer. They +shook hands languidly. The fat man yawned and asked, "Anything doing?" +"Not the littlest," said Bill. "Then," said Jim (the fat man), "let us +go up to the King Edward, sit down, and have a good, quiet smoke." + + + + +THE CONQUEST OF ALASKA + + +Immediately under the man with the money, who lived in London, there was +the President in Chicago; then came the chief engineer in Seattle, the +locating engineer in Skagway, the contractor in the grading camp, and +Hugh Foy, the "boss" of the builders. Yet in spite of all this +overhanging stratification, Foy was a big man. To be sure, none of these +men had happened to get their positions by mere chance. They were men of +character and fortitude, capable of great sacrifice. + +Mr. Close, in London, knew that his partner, Mr. Graves, in Chicago, +would be a good man at the head of so cold and hopeless an enterprise as +a Klondike Railway; and Mr. Graves knew that Erastus Corning Hawkins, +who had put through some of the biggest engineering schemes in the West, +was the man to build the road. The latter selected, as locating +engineer, John Hislop, the hero, one of the few survivors of that wild +and daring expedition that undertook, some twenty years ago, to survey a +route for a railroad whose trains were to traverse the Grand Cañon of +Colorado, where, save for the song of the cataract, there is only shade +and silence and perpetual starlight. Heney, a wiry, compact, plucky +Canadian contractor, made oral agreement with the chief engineer and, +with Hugh Foy as his superintendent of construction, began to grade what +they called the White Pass and Yukon Railway. Beginning where the +bone-washing Skagway tells her troubles to the tide-waters at the elbow +of that beautiful arm of the Pacific Ocean called Lynn Canal, they +graded out through the scattered settlement where a city stands to-day, +cut through a dense forest of spruce, and began to climb the hill. + +When the news of ground-breaking had gone out to Seattle and Chicago, +and thence to London, conservative capitalists, who had suspected Close +Brothers and Company and all their associates in this wild scheme of +temporary insanity, concluded that the sore affliction had come to stay. +But the dauntless builders on the busy field where the grading camp was +in action kept grubbing and grading, climbing and staking, blasting and +building, undiscouraged and undismayed. Under the eaves of a dripping +glacier, Hawkins, Hislop, and Heney crept; and, as they measured off the +miles and fixed the grade by blue chalk-marks where stakes could not be +driven, Foy followed with his army of blasters and builders. When the +pathfinders came to a deep side cañon, they tumbled down, clambered up +on the opposite side, found their bearings, and began again. At one +place the main wall was so steep that the engineer was compelled to +climb to the top, let a man down by a rope, so that he could mark the +face of the cliff for the blasters, and then haul him up again. + +It was springtime when they began, and through the long days of that +short summer the engineers explored and mapped and located; and ever, +close behind them, they could hear the steady roar of Foy's fireworks as +the skilled blasters burst big boulders or shattered the shoulders of +great crags that blocked the trail of the iron horse. Ever and anon, +when the climbers and builders peered down into the ragged cañon, they +saw a long line of pack-animals, bipeds and quadrupeds,--some hoofed and +some horned, some bleeding, some blind,--stumbling and staggering, +fainting and falling, the fittest fighting for the trail and gaining the +summit, whence the clear, green waters of the mighty Yukon would carry +them down to Dawson,--the Mecca of all these gold-mad men. As often as +the road-makers glanced at the pack-trains, they saw hundreds of +thousands of dollars' worth of traffic going past or waiting +transportation at Skagway, and each strained every nerve to complete the +work while the sun shone. + +By midsummer they began to appreciate the fact that this was to be a +hard job. When the flowers faded on the southern slopes, they were not +more than half-way up the hill. Each day the sun swung lower across the +canals, all the to-morrows were shorter than the yesterdays, and there +was not a man among them with a shade of sentiment, or a sense of the +beautiful, but sighed when the flowers died. Yes, they had learned to +love this maiden, Summer, that had tripped up from the south, smiled on +them, sung for a season, sighed, smiled once more, and then danced down +the Lynn again. + +"I'll come back," she seemed to say, peeping over the shoulder of a +glacier that stood at the stage entrance; "I'll come back, but ere I +come again there'll be strange scenes and sounds on this rude stage so +new to you. First, you will have a short season of melodrama by a +melancholy chap called Autumn, gloriously garbed in green and gold, with +splashes and dashes of lavender and lace, but sad, sweetly sad, and +sighing always, for life is such a little while." + +With a sadder smile, she kissed her rosy fingers and was gone,--gone +with her gorgeous garments, her ferns and flowers, her low, soft sighs +and sunny skies, and there was not a man that was a man but missed her +when she was gone. + +The autumn scene, though sombre and sad, was far from depressing, but +they all felt the change. John Hislop seemed to feel it more than all +the rest; for besides being deeply religious, he was deeply in love. His +nearest and dearest friend, Heney--happy, hilarious Heney--knew, and he +swore softly whenever a steamer landed without a message from +Minneapolis,--the long-looked-for letter that would make Hislop better +or worse. It came at length, and Hislop was happy. With his horse, his +dog, and a sandwich,--but never a gun,--he would make long excursions +down toward Lake Linderman, to Bennett, or over Atlin way. When the +country became too rough for the horse, he would be left picketed near a +stream with a faithful dog to look after him while the pathfinder +climbed up among the eagles. + +In the meantime Foy kept pounding away. Occasionally a soiled pedestrian +would slide down the slope, tell a wild tale of rich strikes, and a +hundred men would quit work and head for the highlands. Foy would storm +and swear and coax by turns, but to no purpose; for they were like so +many steers, and as easily stampeded. When the Atlin boom struck the +camp, Foy lost five hundred men in as many minutes. Scores of graders +dropped their tools and started off on a trot. The prospector who had +told the fable had thrown his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the +general direction. Nobody had thought to ask how far. Many forgot to +let go; and Heney's picks and shovels, worth over a dollar apiece, went +away with the stampeders. As the wild mob swept on, the tethered +blasters cut the cables that guyed them to the hills, and each loped +away with a piece of rope around one ankle. + +Panting, they passed over the range, these gold-crazed Coxeys, without a +bun or a blanket, a crust or a crumb, many without a cent or even a +sweat-mark where a cent had slept in their soiled overalls. + +When Foy had exhausted the English, Irish, and Alaskan languages in +wishing the men luck in various degrees, he rounded up the remnant of +his army and began again. In a day or two the stampeders began to limp +back hungry and weary, and every one who brought a pick or a shovel was +re-employed. But hundreds kept on toward Lake Bennett, and thence by +water up Windy Arm to the Atlin country, and many of them have not yet +returned to claim their time-checks. + +The autumn waned. The happy wives of young engineers, who had been +tented along the line during the summer, watched the wildflowers fade +with a feeling of loneliness and deep longing for their stout-hearted, +strong-limbed husbands, who were away up in the cloud-veiled hills; and +they longed, too, for other loved ones in the lowlands of their +childhood. Foy's blasters and builders buttoned their coats and buckled +down to keep warm. Below, they could hear loud peals of profanity as the +trailers, packers, and pilgrims pounded their dumb slaves over the +trail. Above, the wind cried and moaned among the crags, constantly +reminding them that winter was near at hand. The nights were longer than +the days. The working day was cut from ten to eight hours, but the pay +of the men had been raised from thirty to thirty-five cents an hour. + +One day a black cloud curtained the cañon, and the workmen looked up +from their picks and drills to find that it was November and night. The +whole theatre, stage and all, had grown suddenly dark; but they knew, by +the strange, weird noise in the wings, that the great tragedy of winter +was on. Hislop's horse and dog went down the trail. Hawkins and Hislop +and Heney walked up and down among the men, as commanding officers show +themselves on the eve of battle. Foy chaffed the laborers and gave them +more rope; but no amount of levity could prevail against the universal +feeling of dread that seemed to settle upon the whole army. This weird +Alaska, so wild and grand, so cool and sweet and sunny in summer, so +strangely sad in autumn,--this many-mooded, little known Alaska that +seemed doomed ever to be misunderstood, either over-lauded or lied +about,--what would she do to them? How cruel, how cold, how weird, how +wickedly wild her winters must be! Most men are brave, and an army of +brave men will breast great peril when God's lamp lights the field; but +the stoutest heart dreads the darkness. These men were sore afraid, all +of them; and yet no one was willing to be the first to fall out, so they +stood their ground. They worked with a will born of desperation. + +The wind moaned hoarsely. The temperature dropped to thirty-five degrees +below zero, but the men, in sheltered places, kept pounding. Sometimes +they would work all day cleaning the snow from the grade made the day +before, and the next day it would probably be drifted full again. At +times the task seemed hopeless; but Heney had promised to build to the +summit of White Pass without a stop, and Foy had given Heney his hand +across a table at the Fifth Avenue Hotel in Skagway. + +At times the wind blew so frightfully that the men had to hold hands; +but they kept pegging away between blasts, and in a little while were +ready to begin bridging the gulches and deep side-cañons. One day--or +one night, rather, for there were no days then--a camp cook, crazed by +the cold and the endless night, wandered off to die. Hislop and Heney +found him, but he refused to be comforted. He wanted to quit, but Heney +said he could not be spared. He begged to be left alone to sleep in the +warm, soft snow, but Heney brought him back to consciousness and to +camp. + +A premature blast blew a man into eternity. The wind moaned still more +drearily. The snow drifted deeper and deeper, and one day they found +that, for days and days, they had been blasting ice and snow when they +thought they were drilling the rock. Heney and Foy faced each other in +the dim light of a tent lamp that night. "Must we give up?" asked the +contractor. + +"No," said Foy, slowly, speaking in a whisper; "we'll build on snow, for +it's hard and safe; and in the spring we'll ease it down and make a +road-bed." + +They did so. They built and bedded the cross-ties on the snow, ballasted +with snow, and ran over that track until spring without an accident. + +They were making mileage slowly, but the awful strain was telling on the +men and on the bank account. The president of the company was almost +constantly travelling between Washington and Ottawa, pausing now and +again to reach over to London for another bag of gold, for they were +melting it up there in the arctic night--literally burning it up, were +these dynamiters of Foy's. + +To conceive this great project, to put it into shape, present it in +London, secure the funds and the necessary concessions from two +governments, survey and build, and have a locomotive running in Alaska +a year from the first whoop of the happy Klondiker, had been a mighty +achievement; but it was what Heney would call "dead easy" compared with +the work that confronted the President at this time. On July 20, 1897, +the first pick was driven into the ground at White Pass; just a year +later the pioneer locomotive was run over the road. More than once had +the financial backers allowed their faith in the enterprise and in the +future of the country beyond to slip away; but the President of the +company had always succeeded in building it up again, for they had never +lost faith in him, or in his ability to see things that were to most men +invisible. In summer, when the weekly reports showed a mile or more or +less of track laid, it was not so hard; but when days were spent in +placing a single bent in a bridge, and weeks were consumed on a switch +back in a pinched-out cañon, it was hard to persuade sane men that +business sense demanded that they pile on more fuel. But they did it; +and, as the work went on, it became apparent to those interested in such +undertakings that all the heroes of the White Pass were not in the +hills. + +In addition to the elements, ever at war with the builders, they had +other worries that winter. Hawkins had a fire that burned all the +company's offices and all his maps and notes and records of surveys. Foy +had a strike, incited largely by jealous packers and freighters; and +there was hand-to-hand fighting between the strikers and their abettors +and the real builders, who sympathized with the company. + +Brydone-Jack, a fine young fellow, who had been sent out as consulting +engineer to look after the interests of the shareholders, clapped his +hands to his forehead and fell, face down, in the snow. His comrades +carried him to his tent. He had been silent, had suffered, perhaps for a +day or two, but had said nothing. The next night he passed away. His +wife was waiting at Vancouver until he could finish his work in Alaska +and go home to her. + +With sad and heavy hearts Hawkins and Hislop and Heney climbed back to +where Foy and his men were keeping up the fight. Like so many big +lightning-bugs they seemed, with their dim white lamps rattling around +in the storm. It was nearly all night then. God and his sunlight seemed +to have forsaken Alaska. Once every twenty-four hours a little ball of +fire, red, round, and remote, swung across the cañon, dimly lighted +their lunch-tables, and then disappeared behind the great glacier that +guards the gateway to the Klondike. + +As the road neared the summit, Heney observed that Foy was growing +nervous, and that he coughed a great deal. He watched the old fellow, +and found that he was not eating well, and that he slept very little. +Heney asked Foy to rest, but the latter shook his head. Hawkins and +Hislop and Heney talked the matter over in Hislop's tent, called Foy in, +and demanded that he go down and out. Foy was coughing constantly, but +he choked it back long enough to tell the three men what he thought of +them. He had worked hard and faithfully to complete the job, and now +that only one level mile remained to be railed, would they send the old +man down the hill? "I will not budge," said Foy, facing his friends; +"an' when you gentlemen ar-re silibratin' th' vict'ry at the top o' the +hill ahn Chuesday nixt, Hugh Foy'll be wood ye. Do you moind that, +now?" + +Foy steadied himself by a tent-pole and coughed violently. His eyes were +glassy, and his face flushed with the purplish flush that fever gives. + +"Enough of this!" said the chief engineer, trying to look severe. "Take +this message, sign it, and send it at once." + +Foy caught the bit of white clip and read:-- + + "CAPTAIN O'BRIEN, + + SKAGWAY. + + "Save a berth for me on the 'Rosalie.'" + +They thought, as they watched him, that the old road-maker was about to +crush the paper in his rough right hand; but suddenly his face +brightened, he reached for a pencil, saying, "I'll do it," and when he +had added "next trip" to the message, he signed it, folded it, and took +it over to the operator. + +So it happened that, when the last spike was driven at the summit, on +February 20, 1899, the old foreman, who had driven the first, drove the +last, and it was _his_ last spike as well. Doctor Whiting guessed it was +pneumonia. + +When the road had been completed to Lake Bennett, the owners came over +to see it; and when they saw what had been done, despite the prediction +that Dawson was dead and that the Cape Nome boom would equal that of the +Klondike, they authorized the construction of another hundred miles of +road which would connect with the Yukon below the dreaded White Horse +Rapids. Jack and Foy and Hislop are gone; and when John Hislop passed +away, the West lost one of the most modest and unpretentious, yet one of +the best and bravest, one of the purest minded men that ever saw the sun +go down behind a snowy range. + + + + +NUMBER THREE + + +One winter night, as the west-bound express was pulling out of Omaha, a +drunken man climbed aboard. The young Superintendent, who stood on the +rear platform, caught the man by the collar and hauled him up the steps. + +The train, from the tank to the tail-lights, was crammed full of +passenger-people going home or away to spend Christmas. Over in front +the express and baggage cars were piled full of baggage, bundles, boxes, +trinkets, and toys, each intended to make some heart happier on the +morrow, for it was Christmas Eve. It was to see that these passengers +and their precious freight, already a day late, got through that the +Superintendent was leaving his own fireside to go over the road. + +The snow came swirling across the plain, cold and wet, pasting the +window and blurring the headlight on the black locomotive that was +climbing laboriously over the kinks and curves of a new track. Here and +there, in sheltered wimples, bands of buffalo were bunched to shield +them from the storm. Now and then an antelope left the rail or a lone +coyote crouched in the shadow of a telegraph-pole as the dim headlight +swept the right of way. At each stop the Superintendent would jump down, +look about, and swing onto the rear car as the train pulled out again. +At one time he found that his seat had been taken, also his overcoat, +which had been left hanging over the back. The thief was discovered on +the blind baggage and turned over to the "city marshal" at the next +stop. + +Upon entering the train again, the Superintendent went forward to find a +seat in the express car. It was near midnight now. They were coming into +a settlement and passing through prosperous new towns that were building +up near the end of the division. Near the door the messenger had set a +little green Christmas tree, and grouped about it were a red sled, a +doll-carriage, some toys, and a few parcels. If the blond doll in the +little toy carriage toppled over, the messenger would set it up again; +and when passing freight out he was careful not to knock a twig from +the tree. So intent was he upon the task of taking care of this +particular shipment that he had forgotten the Superintendent, and +started and almost stared at him when he shouted the observation that +the messenger was a little late with his tree. + +"'Tain't mine," he said sadly, shaking his head. "B'longs to the fellow +'t swiped your coat." + +"No!" exclaimed the Superintendent, as he went over to look at the toys. + +"If he'd only asked me," said the messenger, more to himself than to the +Superintendent, "he could 'a' had mine and welcome." + +"Do you know the man?" + +"Oh, yes--he lives next door to me, and I'll have to face his wife and +lie to her, and then face my own; but I can't lie to her. I'll tell her +the truth and get roasted for letting Downs get away. I'll go to sleep +by the sound of her sobs and wake to find her crying in her +coffee--that's the kind of a Christmas I'll have. When he's drunk he's +disgusting, of course; but when he's sober he's sorry. And Charley Downs +is honest." + +"Honest!" shouted the Superintendent. + +"Yes, I know he took your coat, but that wasn't Charley Downs; it was +the tarantula-juice he'd been imbibing in Omaha. Left alone he's as +honest as I am; and here's a run that would trip up a missionary. For +instance, leaving Loneville the other night, a man came running +alongside the car and threw in a bundle of bills that looked like a bale +of hay. Not a scrap of paper or pencil-mark, just a wad o' winnings with +a wang around the middle. 'A Christmas gift for my wife,' he yelled. +'How much?' I shouted. 'Oh, I dunno--whole lot, but it's tied good'; and +then a cloud of steam from the cylinder-cocks came between us, and I +haven't seen him since. + +"For the past six months Downs has tried hard to be decent, and has +succeeded some; and this was to be the supreme test. For six months his +wife has been saving up to send him to Omaha to buy things for +Christmas. If he could do that, she argued, and come back sober, he'd be +stronger to begin the New Year. Of course they looked to me to keep him +on the rail, and I did. I shadowed him from shop to shop until he +bought all the toys and some little trinkets for his wife. Always I +found he had paid and ordered the things to be sent to the express +office marked to me. + +"Well, finally I followed him to a clothing store, where, according to a +promise made to his wife, he bought an overcoat, the first he had felt +on his back for years. This he put on, of course, for it is cold in +Omaha to-day; and I left him and slipped away to grab a few hours' +sleep. + +"When I woke I went out to look for him, but could not find him, though +I tried hard, and came to my car without supper. I found his coat, +however, hung up in a saloon, and redeemed it, hoping still to find +Charley before train time. I watched for him until we were signalled +out, and then went back and looked through the train, but failed to find +him. + +"Of course I am sorry for Charley," the messenger went on after a pause, +"but more so for the poor little woman. She's worked and worked, and +saved and saved, and hoped and dreamed, until she actually believed he'd +been cured and that the sun would shine in her life again. Why, the +neighbors have been talking across the back fence about how well Mrs. +Downs was looking. My wife declared she heard her laugh the other day +clear over to our house. Half the town knew about her dream. The women +folks have been carrying work to her and then going over and helping her +do it as a sort of surprise party. And now it's all off. To-morrow will +be Christmas; and he'll be in jail, his wife in despair, and I in +disgrace. Charley Downs a thief--in jail! It'll just break her heart!" + +The whistle proclaimed a stop, and the Superintendent swung out with a +lump in his throat. This was an important station, and the last one +before Loneville. Without looking to the right or left, the +Superintendent walked straight to the telegraph office and sent the +following message to the agent at the place where Downs had been +ditched:-- + + "Turn that fellow loose and send him to Loneville on three--all + a joke. + + "W.C.V., Superintendent." + +In a little while the train was rattling over the road again; and when +the engine screamed for Loneville, the Superintendent stood up and +looked at the messenger. + +"What'll I tell her?" the latter asked. + +"Well, he got left at Cactus sure enough, didn't he? If that doesn't +satisfy her, tell her that he may get over on No. 3." + +When the messenger had turned his freight over to the driver of the +Fargo wagon, he gathered up the Christmas tree and the toys and trudged +homeward, looking like Santa Claus, so completely hidden was he by the +tree and the trinkets. As he neared the Downs' home, the door swung +open, the lamplight shone out upon him, and he saw two women smiling +from the open door. It took but one glance at the messenger's face to +show them that something was wrong, and the smiles faded. Mrs. Downs +received the shock without a murmur, leaning on her friend and leaving +the marks of her fingers on her friend's arm. + +The messenger put the toys down suddenly, silently; and feeling that the +unhappy woman would be better alone, the neighbors departed, leaving her +seated by the window, peering into the night, the lamp turned very low. + +The little clock on the shelf above the stove ticked off the seconds, +measured the minutes, and marked the melancholy hours. The storm ceased, +the stars came out and showed the quiet town asleep beneath its robe of +white. The clock was now striking four, and she had scarcely stirred. +She was thinking of the watchers of Bethlehem, when suddenly a great +light shone on the eastern horizon. At last the freight was coming. She +had scarcely noticed the messenger's suggestion that Charley might come +in on three. Now she waited, with just the faintest ray of hope; and +after a long while the deep voice of the locomotive came to her, the +long black train crept past and stopped. Now her heart beat wildly. +Somebody was coming up the road. A moment later she recognized her +erring husband, dressed exactly as he had been when he left home, his +short coat buttoned close up under his chin. When she saw him +approaching slowly but steadily, she knew he was sober and doubtless +cold. She was about to fling the door open to admit him when he stopped +and stood still. She watched him. He seemed to be wringing his hands. An +awful thought chilled her,--the thought that the cold and exposure had +unbalanced his mind. Suddenly he knelt in the snow and turned his sad +face up to the quiet sky. He was praying, and with a sudden impulse she +fell upon her knees and they prayed together with only the window-glass +between them. + +When the prodigal got to his feet, the door stood open and his wife was +waiting to receive him. At sight of her, dressed as she had been when he +left her, a sudden flame of guilt and shame burned through him; but it +served only to clear his brain and strengthen his will-power, which all +his life had been so weak, and lately made weaker for want of exercise. +He walked almost hurriedly to the chair she set for him near the stove, +and sank into it with the weary air of one who has been long in bed. She +felt of his hands and they were not cold. She touched his face and found +it warm. She pushed the dark hair from his pale forehead and kissed it. +She knelt and prayed again, her head upon his knee. He bowed above her +while she prayed, and stroked her hair. She felt his tears falling upon +her head. She stood up, and when he lifted his face to hers, looked +into his wide weeping eyes,--aye, into his very soul. She liked to see +the tears and the look of agony on his face, for she knew by these signs +how he suffered, and she knew why. + +When he had grown calm she brought a cup of coffee to him. He drank it, +and then she led him to the little dining-room, where a midnight supper +had been set for four, but, because of his absence, had not been +touched. He saw the tree and the toys that the messenger had left, and +spoke for the first time. "Oh, wife dear, have they all come? Are they +all here? The toys and all?" and then, seeing the overcoat that the +messenger had left on a chair near by, and which his wife had not yet +seen, he cried excitedly, "Take that away--it isn't mine!" + +"Why, yes, dear," said his wife, "it must be yours." + +"No, no," he said; "I bought a coat like that, but I sold it. I drank a +lot and only climbed on the train as it was pulling out of Omaha. In the +warm car I fell asleep and dreamed the sweetest dream I ever knew. I had +come home sober with all the things, you had kissed me, we had a great +dinner here, and there stood the Christmas tree, the children were here, +the messenger and his wife, and their children. We were all so happy! I +saw the shadow fade from your face, saw you smile and heard you laugh; +saw the old love-light in your eyes and the rose coming into your cheek. +And then--'Oh, bitterness of things too sweet!'--I woke to find my own +old trembling self again. It was all a dream. Looking across the aisle, +I saw that coat on the back of an empty seat. I knew it was not mine, +for I had sold mine for two miserable dollars. I knew, too, that the man +who gave them to me got them back again before they were warm in my +pocket. This thought embittered me, and, picking up the coat, I walked +out and stood on the platform of the baggage car. At the next stop they +took me off and turned me over to the city marshal,--for the coat +belonged to the Superintendent. + +"It is like mine, except that it is real, and mine, of course, was only +a good imitation. Take it away, wife--do take it away--it haunts me!" + +Pitying him, the wife put the coat out of his sight; and immediately he +grew calm, drank freely of the strong coffee, but he could not eat. +Presently he went over and began to arrange the little Christmas tree in +the box his wife had prepared for it during his absence. She began +opening the parcels, and when she could trust herself, began to talk +about the surprise they would have for the children, and now and again +to express her appreciation of some dainty trifle he had selected for +her. She watched him closely, noting that his hand was unsteady, and +that he was inclined to stagger after stooping for a little while. +Finally, when the tree had been trimmed, and the sled for the boy and +the doll-carriage for the girl were placed beneath it, she got him to +lie down. When she had made him comfortable she kissed him again, knelt +by his bed and prayed, or rather offered thanks, and he was asleep. + +Two hours later the subdued shouts of her babies, the exclamations of +glad surprise that came in stage whispers from the dining-room, woke +her, and she rose from the little couch where she had fallen asleep, +already dressed to begin the day. + +It was four o'clock in the afternoon when she called the prodigal. When +he had bathed his feverish face and put on the fresh clothes she had +brought in for him and come into the dining-room, he saw his rosy dreams +of the previous night fulfilled. The messenger and his wife shook hands +with him and wished him a Merry Christmas. His children, all the +children, came and kissed him. His wife was smiling, and the warm blood +leaping from her happy heart actually put color in her cheeks. + +As Downs took the chair at the head of the table he bowed his head, the +rest did likewise, and he gave thanks, fervently and without +embarrassment. + + + + +THE STUFF THAT STANDS + + +It was very late in the fifties, and Lincoln and Douglas were engaged in +animated discussion of the burning questions of the time, when Melvin +Jewett journeyed to Bloomington, Illinois, to learn telegraphy. + +It was then a new, weird business, and his father advised him not to +fool with it. His college chum said to him, as they chatted together for +the last time before leaving school, that it would be grewsomely lonely +to sit in a dimly lighted flag-station and have that inanimate machine +tick off its talk to him in the sable hush of night; but Jewett was +ambitious. Being earnest, brave, and industrious, he learned rapidly, +and in a few months found himself in charge of a little wooden +way-station as agent, operator, yard-master, and everything else. It was +lonely, but there was no night work. When the shadows came and hung on +the bare walls of his office the spook pictures that had been painted +by his school chum, the young operator went over to the little tavern +for the night. + +True, Springdale at that time was not much of a town; but the telegraph +boy had the satisfaction of feeling that he was, by common consent, the +biggest man in the place. + +Out in a hayfield, he could see from his window a farmer gazing up at +the humming wire, and the farmer's boy holding his ear to the pole, +trying to understand. All this business that so blinded and bewildered +with its mystery, not only the farmer, but the village folks as well, +was to him as simple as sunshine. + +In a little while he had learned to read a newspaper with one eye and +keep the other on the narrow window that looked out along the line; to +mark with one ear the "down brakes" signal of the north-bound freight, +clear in the siding, and with the other to catch the whistle of the +oncoming "cannon ball," faint and far away. + +When Jewett had been at Springdale some six or eight months, another +young man dropped from the local one morning, and said, "_Wie gehts_," +and handed him a letter. The letter was from the Superintendent, calling +him back to Bloomington to despatch trains. Being the youngest of the +despatchers, he had to take the "death trick." The day man used to work +from eight o'clock in the morning until four o'clock in the afternoon, +the "split trick" man from four until midnight, and the "death trick" +man from midnight until morning. + +We called it the "death trick" because, in the early days of +railroading, we had a lot of wrecks about four o'clock in the morning. +That was before double tracks and safety inventions had made travelling +by rail safer than sleeping at home, and before trainmen off duty had +learned to look not on liquor that was red. Jewett, however, was not +long on the night shift. He was a good despatcher,--a bit risky at +times, the chief thought, but that was only when he knew his man. He was +a rusher and ran trains close, but he was ever watchful and wide awake. + +In two years' time he had become chief despatcher. During these years +the country, so quiet when he first went to Bloomington, had been torn +by the tumult of civil strife. + +With war news passing under his eye every day, trains going south with +soldiers, and cars coming north with the wounded, it is not remarkable +that the fever should get into the young despatcher's blood. He read of +the great, sad Lincoln, whom he had seen and heard and known, calling +for volunteers, and his blood rushed red and hot through his veins. He +talked to the trainmen who came in to register, to enginemen waiting for +orders, to yardmen in the yards, and to shopmen after hours; and many of +them, catching the contagion, urged him to organize a company, and he +did. He continued to work days and to drill his men in the twilight. He +would have been up and drilling at dawn if he could have gotten them +together. He inspired them with his quiet enthusiasm, held them by +personal magnetism, and by unselfish patriotism kindled in the breast of +each of his fifty followers a desire to do something for his country. +Gradually the railroad, so dear to him, slipped back to second place in +the affairs of the earth. His country was first. To be sure, there was +no shirking of responsibility at the office, but the business of the +company was never allowed to overshadow the cause in which he had +silently but heartily enlisted. "Abe" Lincoln was, to his way of +reasoning, a bigger man than the President of the Chicago and Alton +Railroad--which was something to concede. The country must be cared for +first, he argued; for what good would a road be with no country to run +through? + +All day he would work at the despatcher's office, flagging fast freights +and "laying out" local passenger trains, to the end that the soldiers +might be hurried south. He would pocket the "cannon ball" and order the +"thunderbolt" held at Alton for the soldiers' special. "Take siding at +Sundance for troop train, south-bound," he would flash out, and glory in +his power to help the government. + +All day he would work and scheme for the company (and the Union), and at +night, when the silver moonlight lay on the lot back of the machine +shops, he would drill and drill as long as he could hold the men +together. They were all stout and fearless young fellows, trained and +accustomed to danger by the hazard of their daily toil. They knew +something of discipline, were used to obeying orders, and to reading +and remembering regulations made for their guidance; and Jewett reasoned +that they would become, in time, a crack company, and a credit to the +state. + +By the time he had his company properly drilled, young Jewett was so +perfectly saturated with the subject of war that he was almost unfit for +duty as a despatcher. Only his anxiety about south-bound troop trains +held his mind to the matter and his hand to the wheel. At night, after a +long evening in the drill field, he would dream of great battles, and +hear in his dreams the ceaseless tramp, tramp of soldiers marching down +from the north to re-enforce the fellows in the fight. + +Finally, when he felt that they were fit, he called his company together +for the election of officers. Jewett was the unanimous choice for +captain, other officers were chosen, and the captain at once applied for +a commission. + +The Jewetts were an influential family, and no one doubted the result of +the young despatcher's request. He waited anxiously for some time, wrote +a second letter, and waited again. "Any news from Springfield?" the +conductor would ask, leaving the register, and the chief despatcher +would shake his head. + +One morning, on entering his office, Jewett found a letter on his desk. +It was from the Superintendent, and it stated bluntly that the +resignation of the chief despatcher would be accepted, and named his +successor. + +Jewett read it over a second time, then turned and carried it into the +office of his chief. + +"Why?" echoed the Superintendent; "you ought to know why. For months you +have neglected your office, and have worked and schemed and conspired to +get trainmen and enginemen to quit work and go to war. Every day women +who are not ready to be widowed come here and cry on the carpet because +their husbands are going away with 'Captain' Jewett's company. Only +yesterday a schoolgirl came running after me, begging me not to let her +little brother, the red-headed peanut on the local, go as drummer-boy in +'Captain' Jewett's company. + +"And now, after demoralizing the service and almost breaking up a half a +hundred homes, you ask, 'Why?' Is that all you have to say?" + +"No," said the despatcher, lifting his head; "I have to say to you, sir, +that I have never knowingly neglected my duty. I have not conspired. I +have been misjudged and misunderstood; and in conclusion, I would say +that my resignation shall be written at once." + +Returning to his desk, Jewett found the long-looked-for letter from +Springfield. How his heart beat as he broke the seal! How timely--just +as things come out in a play. He would not interrupt traffic on the +Alton, but with a commission in his pocket would go elsewhere and +organize a new company. These things flashed through his mind as he +unfolded the letter. His eye fell immediately on the signature at the +end. It was not the name of the Governor, who had been a close friend of +his father, but of the Lieutenant-Governor. It was a short letter, but +plain; and it left no hope. His request had been denied. + +This time he did not ask why. He knew why, and knew that the influence +of a great railway company, with the best of the argument on its side, +would outweigh the influence of a train despatcher and his friends. + +Reluctantly Jewett took leave of his old associates in the office, went +to his room in the hotel, and sat for hours crushed and discouraged. +Presently he rose, kicked the kinks out of his trousers, and walked out +into the clear sunlight. At the end of the street he stepped from the +side-walk to the sod path and kept walking. He passed an orchard and +plucked a ripe peach from an overhanging bough. A yellow-breasted lark +stood in a stubble-field, chirped two or three times, and soared, +singing, toward the far blue sky. A bare-armed man, with a muley cradle, +was cradling grain, and, far away, he heard the hum of a horse-power +threshing machine. It had been months, it seemed years, since he had +been in the country, felt its cooling breeze, smelled the fresh breath +of the fields, or heard the song of a lark; and it rested and refreshed +him. + +When young Jewett returned to the town he was himself again. He had been +guilty of no wrong, but had been about what seemed to him his duty to +his country. Still, he remembered with sadness the sharp rebuke of the +Superintendent, a feeling intensified by the recollection that it was +the same official who had brought him in from Springdale, made a train +despatcher out of him, and promoted him as often as he had earned +promotion. If he had seemed to be acting in bad faith with the officials +of the road, he would make amends. That night he called his company +together, told them that he had been unable to secure a commission, +stated that he had resigned and was going away, and advised them to +disband. + +The company forming at Lexington was called "The Farmers," just as the +Bloomington company was known as the "Car-hands." "The Farmers" was +full, the captain said, when Jewett offered his services. At the last +moment one of the boys had "heart failure," and Jewett was taken in his +place. His experience with the disbanded "Car-hands" helped him and his +company immeasurably. It was only a few days after his departure from +Bloomington that he again passed through, a private in "The Farmers." + +Once in the South, the Lexington company became a part of the 184th +Illinois Infantry, and almost immediately engaged in fighting. Jewett +panted to be on the firing-line, but that was not to be. The regiment +had just captured an important railway which had to be manned and +operated at once. It was the only means of supplying a whole army corps +with bacon and beans. The colonel of his company was casting about for +railroaders, when he heard of Private Jewett. He was surprised to find, +in "The Farmers," a man of such wide experience as a railway official, +so well posted on the general situation, and so keenly alive to the +importance of the railroad and the necessity of keeping it open. Within +a week Jewett had made a reputation. If there had been time to name him, +he would doubtless have been called superintendent of transportation; +but there was no time to classify those who were working on the road. +They called him Jewett. In some way the story of the one-time captain's +experience at Bloomington came to the colonel's ears, and he sent for +Jewett. As a result of the interview, the young private was taken from +the ranks, made a captain, and "assigned to special duty." His special +duty was that of General Manager of the M. & L. Railroad, with +headquarters in a car. + +Jewett called upon the colonel again, uninvited this time, and +protested. He wanted to get into the fighting. "Don't worry, my boy," +said the good-natured colonel, "I'll take the fight out of you later on; +for the present, Captain Jewett, you will continue to run this +railroad." + +The captain saluted and went about his business. + +There had been some fierce fighting at the front, and the Yankees had +gotten decidedly the worst of it. Several attempts had been made to rush +re-enforcements forward by rail, but with poor success. The pilot +engines had all been ditched. As a last desperate chance, Jewett +determined to try a "black" train. Two engines were attached to a +troop-train, and Jewett seated himself on the pilot of the forward +locomotive. The lights were all put out. They were to have no pilot +engine, but were to slip past the ambuscade, if possible, and take +chances on lifted rails and absent bridges. It was near the end of a +dark, rainy night. The train was rolling along at a good freight clip, +the engines working as full as might be without throwing fire, when +suddenly, from either side of the track, a yellow flame flared out, +followed immediately by the awful roar of the muskets from whose black +mouths the murderous fire had rushed. The bullets fairly rained on the +jackets of the engines, and crashed through the cab windows. The +engineer on the head engine was shot from his seat. Jewett, in a hail of +lead, climbed over the running-board, pulled wide the throttle, and +whistled "off brakes." The driver of the second engine, following his +example, opened also, and the train was thus whirled out of range, but +not until Jewett had been badly wounded. A second volley rained upon the +rearmost cars, but did little damage. The enemy had been completely +outwitted. They had mistaken the train for a pilot engine, which they +had planned to let pass; after which they were to turn a switch, ditch, +and capture the train. + +There was great rejoicing in the hungry army at the front that dawn, +when the long train laden with soldiers and sandwiches arrived. The +colonel was complimented by the corps commander, but he was too big and +brave to accept promotion for an achievement in which he had had no part +or even faith. He told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the +truth; and, when it was all over, there was no more "Captain" Jewett. +When he came out of the hospital he had the rank of a major, but was +still "assigned to special duty." + +Major Jewett's work became more important as the great struggle went on. +Other lines of railway fell into the hands of the Yankees, and all of +them in that division of the army came under his control. They were good +for him, for they made him a very busy man and kept him from panting for +the firing-line. In conjunction with General D., the famous army +engineer, who has since become a noted railroad-builder, he rebuilt and +re-equipped wrecked railways, bridged wide rivers, and kept a way open +for men and supplies to get to the front. + +When at last the little, ragged, but ever-heroic remnant of the +Confederate army surrendered, and the worn and weary soldiers set their +faces to the north again, Major Jewett's name was known throughout the +country. + +At the close of the war, in recognition of his ability and great service +to the Union, Major Jewett was made a brevet colonel, by which title he +is known to almost every railway man in America. + + * * * * * + +Many opportunities came to Colonel Jewett to enter once more the field +in which, since his school days, he had been employed. One by one these +offers were put aside. They were too easy. He had been so long in the +wreck of things that he felt out of place on a prosperous, +well-regulated line. He knew of a little struggling road that ran east +from Galena, Illinois. It was called the Galena and something, for +Galena was at that time the most prosperous and promising town in the +wide, wild West. + +He sought and secured service on the Galena line and began anew. The +road was one of the oldest and poorest in the state, and one of the very +first chartered to build west from Chicago. It was sorely in need of a +young, vigorous, and experienced man, and Colonel Jewett's ability was +not long in finding recognition. Step by step he climbed the ladder +until he reached the General Managership. Here his real work began. Here +he had some say, and could talk directly to the President, who was one +of the chief owners. He soon convinced the company that to succeed they +must have more money, build more, and make business by encouraging +settlers to go out and plough and plant and reap and ship. The United +States government was aiding in the construction of a railway across the +"desert," as the West beyond the Missouri River was then called. Jewett +urged his company to push out to the Missouri River and connect with the +line to the Pacific, and they pushed. + +Ten years from the close of the war Colonel Jewett was at the head of +one of the most promising railroads in the country. Prosperity followed +peace, the West began to build up, the Pacific Railroad was completed, +and the little Galena line, with a new charter and a new name, had +become an important link connecting the Atlantic and the Pacific. + +For nearly half a century Jewett has been at the front, and has never +been defeated. The discredited captain of that promising company of +car-boys has become one of our great "captains of industry." He is +to-day President of one of the most important railroads in the world, +whose black fliers race out nightly over twin paths of steel, threading +their way in and out of not less than nine states, with nearly nine +thousand miles of main line. He has succeeded beyond his wildest dreams; +and his success is due largely to the fact that when, in his youth, he +mounted to ride to fame and fortune, he did not allow the first jolt to +jar him from the saddle. He is made of the stuff that stands. + + + + +THE MILWAUKEE RUN + + +Henry Hautman was born old. He had the face and figure of a voter at +fifteen. His skin did not fit his face,--it wrinkled and resembled a +piece of rawhide that had been left out in the rain and sun. + +Henry's father was a freighter on the Santa Fé trail when Independence +was the back door of civilization, opening on a wilderness. Little Henry +used to ride on the high seat with his father, close up to the tail of a +Missouri mule, the seventh of a series of eight, including the trailer +which his father drove in front of the big wagon. It was the wind of the +west that tanned the hide on Henry's face and made him look old before +his time. + +At night they used to arrange the wagons in a ring, in which the +freighters slept. + +One night Henry was wakened by the yells of Indians, and saw men +fighting. Presently he was swung to the back of a cayuse behind a +painted warrior, and as they rode away the boy, looking back, saw the +wagons burning and guessed the rest. + +Later the lad escaped and made his way to Chicago, where he began his +career on the rail, and where this story really begins. + +It was extremely difficult, in the early days, to find sober, reliable +young men to man the few locomotives in America and run the trains. A +large part of the population seemed to be floating, drifting west, west, +always west. So when this stout-shouldered, strong-faced youth asked for +work, the round-house foreman took him on gladly. Henry's boyhood had +been so full of peril that he was absolutely indifferent to danger and a +stranger to fear. He was not even afraid of work, and at the end of +eighteen months he was marked up for a run. He had passed from the +wiping gang to the deck of a passenger engine, and was now ready for the +road. + +Henry was proud of his rapid promotion, especially this last lift, that +would enable him to race in the moonlight along the steel trail, though +he recalled that it had cost him his first little white lie. + +One of the rules of the road said a man must be twenty-one years old +before he could handle a locomotive. Henry knew his book well, but he +knew also that the railroad needed his service and that he needed the +job; so when the clerk had taken his "Personal Record,"--which was only +a mild way of asking where he would have his body sent in case he met +the fate so common at that time on a new line in a new country,--he gave +his age as twenty, hoping the master-mechanic would allow him a year for +good behavior. + +Years passed. So did the Indian and the buffalo. The railway reached out +across the Great American Desert. The border became blurred and was +rubbed out. The desert was dotted with homes. Towns began to grow up +about the water-tanks and to bud and blow on the treeless plain. + +Henry Hautman became known as the coolest and most daring driver on the +road. He was a good engineer and a good citizen. He owned his home; and +while his pay was not what an engineer draws to-day for the same run +made in half the time, it was sufficient unto the day, his requirements, +and his wife's taste. + +Only one thing troubled him. He had bought a big farm not far from +Chicago, for which he was paying out of his savings. If he kept well, as +he had done all his life, three years more on the Limited would let him +out. Then he could retire a year ahead of time, and settle down in +comfort on the farm and watch the trains go by. + +It would be his salvation, this farm by the roadside; for the very +thought of surrendering the "La Salle" to another was wormwood and gall +to Henry. It never occurred to him to quit and go over to the N.W. or +the P.D. & Q., where they had no age limit for engineers. No man ever +thought of leaving the service of the Chicago, Milwaukee & Wildwood. The +road was one of the finest, and as for the run,--well, they used to say, +"Drive the Wildwood Limited and die." Henry had driven it for a decade +and had not died. When he looked himself over he declared he was the +best man, physically, on the line. But there was the law in the Book of +Rules,--the Bible of the C.M. & W.,--and no man might go beyond the +limit set for the retirement of engine-drivers; and Henry Hautman, the +favorite of the "old man," would take his medicine. They were a loyal +lot on the Milwaukee in those days. Superintendent Van Law declared them +clannish. "Kick a man," said he, "in St. Paul, and his friends will feel +the shock in the lower Mississippi." + +Time winged on, and as often as Christmas came it reminded the old +engineer that he was one year nearer his last trip; for his mother, now +sleeping in the far West, had taught him to believe that he had come to +her on Christmas Eve. + +How the world had aged in threescore years! Sometimes at night he had +wild dreams of his last day on the freight wagon, of the endless reaches +of waving wild grass, of bands of buffalo racing away toward the setting +sun, a wild deer drinking at a running stream, and one lone Indian on +the crest of a distant dune, dark, ominous, awful. Sometimes, from his +high seat at the front of the Limited, he caught the flash of a field +fire and remembered the burning wagons in the wilderness. + +But the wilderness was no more, and Henry knew that the world's greatest +civilizer, the locomotive, had been the pioneer in all this great work +of peopling the plains. The pathfinders, the real heroes of the +Anglo-Saxon race, had fought their way from the Missouri River to the +sundown sea. He recalled how they used to watch for the one opposing +passenger train. Now they flashed by his window as the mile-posts +flashed in the early days, for the line had been double-tracked so that +the electric-lighted hotels on wheels passed up and down regardless of +opposing trains. All these changes had been wrought in a single +generation; and Henry felt that he had contributed, according to his +light, to the great work. + +But the more he pondered the perfection of the service, the comfort of +travel, the magnificence of the Wildwood Limited, the more he dreaded +the day when he must take his little personal effects from the cab of +the La Salle and say good-bye to her, to the road, and hardest of all, +to the "old man," as they called the master-mechanic. + +One day when Henry was registering in the round-house, he saw a letter +in the rack for him, and carried it home to read after supper. + +When he read it, he jumped out of his chair. "Why, Henry!" said his +wife, putting down her knitting, "what ever's the matter,--open switch +or red light?" + +"Worse, Mary; it's the end of the track." + +The old engineer tossed the letter over to his wife, sat down, stretched +his legs out, locked his fingers, and began rolling his thumbs one over +the other, staring at the stove. + +When Mrs. Hautman had finished the letter she stamped her foot and +declared it an outrage. She suggested that somebody wanted the La Salle. +"Well," she said, resigning herself to her fate, "I bet I have that +coach-seat out of the cab,--it'll make a nice tête-à-tête for the front +room. Superannuated!" she went on with growing disgust. "I bet you can +put any man on the first division down three times in five." + +"It's me that's down, Mary,--down and out." + +"Henry Hautman, I'm ashamed of you! you know you've got four years come +Christmas--why don't you fight? Where's your Brotherhood you've been +paying money to for twenty years? I bet a 'Q' striker comes and takes +your engine." + +"No, Mary, we're beaten. I see how it all happened now. You see I began +at twenty when I was really but sixteen; that's where I lose. I lied to +the 'old man' when we were both boys; now that lie comes back to me, as +a chicken comes home to roost." + +"But can't you explain that now?" + +"Well, not easy. It's down in the records--it's Scripture now, as the +'old man' would say. No, the best I can do is to take my medicine like a +man; I've got a month yet to think it over." + +After that they sat in silence, this childless couple, trying to fashion +to themselves how it would seem to be superannuated. + +The short December days were all too short for Henry. He counted the +hours, marked the movements of the minute-hand on the face of his cab +clock, and measured the miles he would have, not to "do" but to enjoy, +before Christmas. As the weeks went by the old engineer became a changed +man. He had always been cheerful, happy, and good-natured. Now he +became thoughtful, silent, melancholy. There was not a man on the first +division but grieved because he was going, but no man would dare say so +to Henry. Sympathy is about the hardest thing a stout heart ever has to +endure. + +While Henry was out on his last trip his wife waited upon the +master-mechanic and asked him to bring his wife over and spend Christmas +Eve with Henry and help her to cheer him up; and the "old man" promised +to call that evening. + +Although there were half-a-dozen palms itching for the throttle of the +La Salle, no man had yet been assigned to the run. And the same kindly +feeling of sympathy that prompted this delay prevented the aspirants +from pressing their claims. Once, in the lodge room, a young member +eager for a regular run opened the question, but saw his mistake when +the older members began to hiss like geese, while the Worthy Master +smote the table with his maul. Henry saw the La Salle cross the +turn-table and back into the round-house, and while he "looked her +over," examining every link and pin, each lever and link-lifter, the +others hurried away; for it was Christmas Eve, and nobody cared to say +good-bye to the old engineer. + +When he had walked around her half-a-dozen times, touching her burnished +mainpins with the back of his hand, he climbed into the cab and began to +gather up his trinkets, his comb and tooth-brush, a small steel +monkey-wrench, and a slender brass torch that had been given to him by a +friend. Then he sat upon the soft cushioned coach-seat that his wife had +coveted, and looked along the hand-railing. He leaned from the cab +window and glanced along the twin stubs of steel that passed through the +open door and stopped short at the pit, symbolizing the end of his run +on the rail. The old boss wiper came with his crew to clean the La +Salle, but when he saw the driver there in the cab he passed him by. + +Long he sat in silence, having a last visit with La Salle, her brass +bands gleaming in the twilight. For years she had carried him safely +through snow and sleet and rain, often from dawn till dusk, and +sometimes from dusk till dawn again. She had been his life's companion +while on the road, who now, "like some familiar face at parting, gained +a graver grace." + +Presently the lamp-lighters came and began lighting the oil lamps that +stood in brackets along the wall; but before their gleam reached his +face the old engineer slid down and hurried away home with never a +backward glance. + + * * * * * + +That night when Mrs. Hautman had passed the popcorn and red apples, and +they had all eaten and the men had lighted cigars, the engineer's wife +brought a worn Bible out and drew a chair near the master-mechanic. The +"old man," as he was called, looked at the book, then at the woman, who +held it open on her lap. + +"Do you believe this book?" she asked earnestly. + +"Absolutely," he answered. + +"All that is written here?" + +"All," said the man. + +Then she turned to the fly-leaf and read the record of Henry's +birth,--the day, the month, and the year. + +Henry came and looked at the book and the faded handwriting, trying to +remember; but it was too far away. + +The old Bible had been discovered that day deep down in a trunk of old +trinkets that had been sent to Henry when his mother died, years ago. + +The old engineer took the book and held it on his knees, turned its limp +leaves, and dropped upon them the tribute of a strong man's tear. + +The "old man" called for the letter he had written, erased the date, set +it forward four years, and handed it back to Henry. + +"Here, Hank," said he, "here's a Christmas gift for you." + +So when the Wildwood Limited was limbered up that Christmas morning, +Henry leaned from the window, leaned back, tugged at the throttle again, +smiled over at the fireman, and said, "Now, Billy, watch her swallow +that cold, stiff steel at about a mile a minute." + + + + +BOOKS BY CY WARMAN + + +SHORT RAILS + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +N.Y. TIMES REVIEW. + +It is good for the soul that we should look into other worlds than our +own, and Mr. Warman knows how to put us beside fireman and engineer and +how to make us feel the poetry as well as the power of the tireless +giants that fulfil for us moderns the ancient dream of the +fire-breathing brazen bulls yoked for the service of man. + +THE OUTLOOK. + +A dozen or more spirited tales, tersely told, and with that surety of +touch which comes only from intimate knowledge.... The romance, danger, +bravery, plottings, and nobility of action incident to life on the rail +are all realistically depicted, and the reader feels the charm which +attaches to the new or strange. + +BOSTON ADVERTISER. + +The reader will find much pleasure, and no disappointment, in reading +these pages. + + +THE WHITE MAIL + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +THE NATION. + +Cy Warman can always impart a living interest to a story through his +close intimacy with locomotives, yard-masters, signals, switches, with +all that pertains to railroading, in a word--from a managers' meeting to +a frog. The tender enthusiasm he feels for the denizens of his iron +jungle is contagious. + +THE OUTLOOK + +Mr. Cy Warman, by long personal experience, acquired a close and exact +knowledge of the life of railroad men. "The White Mail" brings out +realistically the actual life of the engineer, the brakeman, and the +freight handler. + +THE CONGREGATIONALIST + +Cy Warman writes excellent railroad stories, of course, and his new one, +"The White Mail," is short, lively, and eminently readable. + +ST. LOUIS GLOBE-DEMOCRAT + +In "The White Mail," Cy Warman, in the pleasant, witty style for which +this poet of the Rockies has become noted, has presented a tender, +touching picture. + + +TALES OF AN ENGINEER + +_With Rhymes of the Rail_ + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +THE CONGREGATIONALIST + +There is true power in Cy Warman's "Tales of an Engineer," and the +reader yields willingly to the attraction of its blended novelty, +spirit, and occasional pathos. It does not lack humor, and every page is +worth reading. + +THE CHURCHMAN + +A new departure in literature should be interesting even if lacking in +the brilliant off-hand sketchiness of these pages. One steps into a new +life. There is not a dull page in this book, and much of it is of more +than ordinary interest. + +NEW YORK COMMERCIAL ADVERTISER + +There is a rugged directness about the description of rushing runs on +the rail, through which one can hear the thump-thump of the machinery as +the engine dashes over the rails, and which seems to be illumined by the +glow of the headlights and the colored signals. + + +THE EXPRESS MESSENGER + +_And Other Tales of the Rail_ + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +BOSTON TRANSCRIPT + +The author's work is familiarly and pleasantly known to magazine readers +for the realistic details of Western railroad life, which give them a +dashing, vital movement, though they are often highly romantic. The +romantic in them, however, seems very human--indeed, there is a ring of +true feeling in these little tales. + +BROOKLYN DAILY EAGLE + +Mr. Warman's work has about it the merit of a genuine realism, and it is +as full of romance and adventure as the most exacting reader could +desire. It is a volume of sketches that is well worth reading, not only +because they are well written and full of action, but for the pictures +they give of a life that the world really knows very little about. + +PHILADELPHIA PRESS + +The poet appears in the descriptive passages, and there is a melodious +rhythm to his prose style that is pleasurable in a high degree. Mr. +Warman has a field of his own, and he is master of it. + + +FRONTIER STORIES + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +REVIEW OF REVIEWS + +Nobody knows his frontier life better than Mr. Warman, and his yarns of +Indians, striking miners, cowboys, half-breeds, and railroad men, are +full of vivid reality. There is plenty of romance and excitement in this +score of stories. + +THE CHURCHMAN + +Eighteen tales which certainly are excellent in their kind, quick, +breezy, full of the local color, yet with delightful touches of +universal humanity. + +CINCINNATI COMMERCIAL TRIBUNE + +They are honest little chapters of life simply written, an effective +word of slang stuck in here and there where it does not seem at all out +of place; honest, open-hearted, steady-eyed narratives all, with the +breeze of the Western prairies in every line, as well as the brotherhood +of man, and his triumphs and his failures impressing themselves upon you +at every turn. + +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +153-157 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Spike, by Cy Warman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST SPIKE *** + +***** This file should be named 17572-8.txt or 17572-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/5/7/17572/ + +Produced by Melissa Er-Raqabi, Ted Garvin, Josephine +Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last Spike + And Other Railroad Stories + +Author: Cy Warman + +Release Date: January 22, 2006 [EBook #17572] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST SPIKE *** + + + + +Produced by Melissa Er-Raqabi, Ted Garvin, Josephine +Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + + +<h1>THE</h1> + +<h1>LAST SPIKE</h1> + +<h3>AND OTHER</h3> + +<h2>RAILROAD STORIES</h2> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>CY WARMAN</h2> + +<p class="center"> +NEW YORK<br /> +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS<br /> +1906<br /> +</p> + + +<p> +<i>Copyright, 1906</i>,<br /> +<span class="smcap">By Charles Scribner's Sons</span><br /> +<br /> +Published February, 1906<br /> +<br /> +THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A.<br /> +</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Last Spike</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_LAST_SPIKE">1</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Belle of Athabasca</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_BELLE_OF_ATHABASCA">31</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Pathfinding in the Northwest</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#PATHFINDING_IN_THE_NORTHWEST">49</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Curé's Christmas Gift</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_CURES_CHRISTMAS_GIFT">61</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Mysterious Signal</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_MYSTERIOUS_SIGNAL">85</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Chasing the White Mail</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#CHASING_THE_WHITE_MAIL">107</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Oppressing the Oppressor</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#OPPRESSING_THE_OPPRESSOR">119</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Iron Horse and the Trolley</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_IRON_HORSE_AND_THE_TROLLEY">135</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">In the Black Cañon</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#IN_THE_BLACK_CANON">151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Jack Ramsey's Reason</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#JACK_RAMSEYS_REASON">165</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Great Wreck on the Père Marquette</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_GREAT_WRECK_ON_THE_PERE">181</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Story of an Englishman</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_STORY_OF_AN_ENGLISHMAN">193</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">On the Limited</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#ON_THE_LIMITED">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Conquest of Alaska</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_CONQUEST_OF_ALASKA">219</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Number Three</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#NUMBER_THREE">237</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Stuff that Stands</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_STUFF_THAT_STANDS">253</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">The Milwaukee Run</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#THE_MILWAUKEE_RUN">273</a></td></tr> +</table></div> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_LAST_SPIKE" id="THE_LAST_SPIKE"></a>THE LAST SPIKE</h2> + + +<p>"Then there is nothing against him but his +poverty?"</p> + +<p>"And general appearance."</p> + +<p>"He's the handsomest man in America."</p> + +<p>"Yes, that is against him, and the fact that he +is always <i>in</i> America. He appears to be afraid +to get out."</p> + +<p>"He's the bravest boy in the world," she replied, +her face still to the window. "He risked +his life to drag me from under the ice," she +added, with a girl's loyalty to her hero and a +woman's pride in the man she loves.</p> + +<p>"Well, I must own he has nerve," her father +added, "or he never would have accepted my +conditions."</p> + +<p>"And what where these conditions, pray?" the +young woman asked, turning and facing her +father, who sat watching her every move and +gesture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> + +<p>"First of all, he must do something; and do +it off his own bat. His old father spent his last +dollar to educate this young rascal, to equip him +for the battle of life, and his sole achievement is +a curve that nobody can find. Now I insist he +shall do something, and I have given him five +years for the work."</p> + +<p>"Five years!" she gasped, as she lost herself +in a big chair.</p> + +<p>"He is to have time to forget you, and you +are to have ample opportunity to forget him, +which you will doubtless do, for you are not to +meet or communicate with each other during +this period of probation."</p> + +<p>"Did he promise this?"</p> + +<p>"Upon his honor."</p> + +<p>"And if he break that promise?"</p> + +<p>"Ah, then he would be without honor, and +you would not marry him." A moment's silence +followed, broken by a long, deep sigh that ended +in little quivering waves, like the faint ripples +that reach the shore,—the whispered echoes of +the sobbing sea.</p> + +<p>"O father, it is cruel! <i>cruel! cruel!</i>" she +cried, raising a tearful face to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is justice, stern justice; to you, my dear, +to myself, and this fine young fellow who has +stolen your heart. Let him show himself worthy +of you, and you have my blessing and my fortune."</p> + +<p>"Is he going soon?"</p> + +<p>"He is gone."</p> + +<p>The young woman knelt by her father's chair +and bowed her head upon his knee, quivering +with grief.</p> + +<p>This stern man, who had humped himself and +made a million, put a hand on her head and +said:</p> + +<p>"Ma-Mary"—and then choked up.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>The tent boy put a small white card down on +General Dodge's desk one morning, upon which +was printed:</p> + +<p> + <span class="smcap">J. Bradford, C.E.</span> +</p> + +<p>The General, who was at that time chief engineer +in charge of the construction of the first +Pacific Railroad, turned the bit of pasteboard +over. It seemed so short and simple. He +ran his eyes over a printed list, alphabetically<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> +arranged, of directors, promoters, statesmen, +capitalists, and others who were in the habit of +signing "letters of recommendation" for young +men who wanted to do something and begin +well up the ladder.</p> + +<p>There were no Bradfords. Burgess and Blodgett +were the only B's, and the General was +glad. His desk was constantly littered with the +"letters" of tenderfeet, and his office-tent filled +with their portmanteaus, holding dress suits and +fine linen.</p> + +<p>Here was a curiosity—a man with no press +notices, no character, only one initial and two +chasers.</p> + +<p>"Show him in," said the General, addressing +the one luxury his hogan held. A few moments +later the chief engineer was looking into the eye +of a young man, who returned the look and +asked frankly, and without embarrassment, for +work with the engineers.</p> + +<p>"Impossible, young man—full up," was the +brief answer.</p> + +<p>"Now," thought the General, "he'll begin +to beat his breast and haul out his 'pull.'" The +young man only smiled sadly, and said, "I'm<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> +sorry. I saw an 'ad' for men in the <i>Bee</i> yesterday, +and hoped to be in time," he added, +rising.</p> + +<p>"Men! Yes, we want men to drive mules +and stakes, to grade, lay track, and fight Indians—but +engineers? We've got 'em to use for +cross-ties."</p> + +<p>"I am able and willing to do any of these +things—except the Indians—and I'll tackle +that if nothing else offers."</p> + +<p>"There's a man for you," said the General +to his assistant as Bradford went out with a note +to Jack Casement, who was handling the +graders, teamsters, and Indian fighters. "No +influential friends, no baggage, no character, +just a man, able to stand alone—a real man in +corduroys and flannels."</p> + +<p>Coming up to the gang, Bradford singled out +the man who was swearing loudest and delivered +the note. "Fall in," said the straw boss, and +Bradford got busy. He could handle one end +of a thirty-foot rail with ease, and before night, +without exciting the other workmen or making +any show of superiority, he had quietly, almost +unconsciously, become the leader of the track-laying<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +gang. The foreman called Casement's +attention to the new man, and Casement watched +him for five minutes.</p> + +<p>Two days later a big teamster, having found a +bottle of fire-water, became separated from his +reasoning faculties, crowded under an old dump-cart, +and fell asleep.</p> + +<p>"Say, young fellow," said the foreman, panting +up the grade to where Bradford was placing +a rail, "can you skin mules?"</p> + +<p>"I can drive a team, if that's what you +mean," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"How many?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Bradford, with his quiet smile, +"when I was a boy I used to drive six on the +Montpelier stage."</p> + +<p>So he took the eight-mule team and amazed +the multitude by hauling heavier loads than any +other team, because he knew how to handle his +whip and lines, and because he was careful and +determined to succeed. Whatever he did he did +it with both hands, backed up by all the enthusiasm +of youth and the unconscious strength of an +absolutely faultless physique, and directed by a +remarkably clear brain. When the timekeeper<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +got killed, Bradford took his place, for he could +"read writin'," an accomplishment rare among +the laborers. When the bookkeeper got drunk +he kept the books, working overtime at night.</p> + +<p>In the rush and roar of the fight General +Dodge had forgotten the young man in corduroys +until General Casement called his attention +to the young man's work. The engineers wanted +Bradford, and Casement had kicked, and, fearing +defeat, had appealed to the chief. They +sent for Bradford. Yes, he was an engineer, +he said, and when he said it they knew it was +true. He was quite willing to remain in the +store department until he could be relieved, but, +naturally, he would prefer field work.</p> + +<p>He got it, and at once. Also, he got some +Indian fighting. In less than a year he was +assigned to the task of locating a section of the +line west of the Platte. Coming in on a construction +train to make his first report, the train +was held up, robbed, and burned by a band of +Sioux. Bradford and the train crew were +rescued by General Dodge himself, who happened +to be following them with his "arsenal" +car, and who heard at Plumb Creek of the fight<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> +and of the last stand that Bradford and his +handful of men were making in the way car, +which they had detached and pushed back +from the burning train. Such cool heroism as +Bradford displayed here could not escape the +notice of so trained an Indian fighter as General +Dodge. Bradford was not only complimented, +but was invited into the General's private car. +The General's admiration for the young pathfinder +grew as he received a detailed and comprehensive +report of the work being done out +on the pathless plains. He knew the worth of +this work, because he knew the country, for he +had spent whole months together exploring it +while in command of that territory, where he had +been purposely placed by General Sherman, without +whose encouragement the West could not +have been known at that time, and without whose +help as commander-in-chief of the United States +army the road could not have been built.</p> + +<p>As the pathfinders neared the Rockies the +troops had to guard them constantly. The engineers +reconnoitered, surveyed, located, and +built inside the picket lines. The men marched +to work to the tap of the drum, stacked arms on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +the dump, and were ready at a moment's notice to +fall in and fight. Many of the graders were old +soldiers, and a little fight only rested them. Indeed +there was more military air about this work +than had been or has since been about the building +of a railroad in this country. It was one big +battle, from the first stake west of Omaha to the +last spike at Promontory—a battle that lasted +five long years; and if the men had marked the +graves of those who fell in that fierce fight their +monuments, properly distributed, might have +served as mile-posts on the great overland route +to-day. But the mounds were unmarked, most of +them, and many there were who had no mounds, +and whose home names were never known even +to their comrades. If this thing had been done +on British soil, and all the heroic deeds had been +recorded and rewarded, a small foundry could +have been kept busy beating out V.C.'s. They +could not know, these silent heroes fighting far +out in the wilderness, what a glorious country +they were conquering—what an empire they +were opening for all the people of the land. +Occasionally there came to the men at the front +old, worn newspapers, telling wild stories of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +failure of the enterprise. At other times they +heard of changes in the Board of Directors, the +election of a new President, tales of jobs and +looting, but they concerned themselves only with +the work in hand. No breath of scandal ever +reached these pioneer trail-makers, or, if it did, it +failed to find a lodging-place, but blew by. Ample +opportunity they had to plunder, to sell supplies +to the Indians or the Mormons, but no one +of the men who did the actual work of bridging +the continent has ever been accused of a selfish +or dishonest act.</p> + +<p>During his second winter of service Bradford +slept away out in the Rockies, studying the +snowslides and drifts. For three winters they +did this, and in summer they set stakes, keeping +one eye out for Indians and the other for wash-outs, +and when, after untold hardships, privation, +and youth-destroying labor, they had located a +piece of road, out of the path of the slide and +the washout, a well-groomed son of a politician +would come up from the Capital, and, in the +capacity of Government expert, condemn it all. +Then strong men would eat their whiskers and +the weaker ones would grow blasphemous and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +curse the country that afforded no facilities for +sorrow-drowning.</p> + +<p>Once, at the end of a long, hard winter, +when spring and the Sioux came, they found +Bradford and a handful of helpers just breaking +camp in a sheltered hollow in the hills. Hiding +in the crags, the warriors waited until Bradford +went out alone to try to shoot a deer, and incidentally +to sound a drift, and then they surrounded +him. He fought until his gun was +unloaded, and then emptied his revolver; but +ever dodging and crouching from tree to rock, +the red men, whose country he and his companions +had invaded, came nearer and nearer. +In a little while the fight was hand to hand. +There was not the faintest show for escape; to +be taken alive was to be tortured to death, so he +fought on, clubbing his revolver until a well-directed +blow from a war club caught the gun, +sent it whirling through the top of a nearby +cedar, and left the pathfinder empty-handed. +The chief sprang forward and lifted his hatchet +that had caused more than one paleface to bite +the dust. For the faintest fraction of a second +it stood poised above Bradford's head, then out<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +shot the engineer's strong right arm, and the +Indian lay flat six feet away.</p> + +<p>For a moment the warriors seemed helpless +with mingled awe and admiration, but when +Bradford stooped to grab his empty rifle they +came out of their trance. A dull blow, a sense +of whirling round swiftly, a sudden sunset, stars—darkness, +and all pain had gone!</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>When Bradford came to they were fixing him +for the fun. His back was against a tree, his feet +pinioned, and his elbows held secure by a rawhide +rope. He knew what it meant. He knew +by the look of joy on the freshly smeared faces +at his waking, by the pitch-pine wood that had +been brought up, and by the fagots at his feet. +The big chief who had felt his fist came up, +grinning, and jabbed a buckhorn cactus against +the engineer's thigh, and when the latter tried to +move out of reach they all grunted and danced +with delight. They had been uneasy lest the +white man might not wake.</p> + +<p>The sun, sailing westward in a burnished sea<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +of blue, seemed to stand still for a moment and +then dropped down behind the range, as if to +escape from the hellish scene. The shadows +served only to increase the gloom in the heart +of the captive. Glancing over his shoulder +toward the east, he observed that his captors +had brought him down near to the edge of the +plain. Having satisfied themselves that their +victim had plenty of life left in him, the Indians +began to arrange the fuel. With the return of +consciousness came an inexpressible longing to +live. Suddenly his iron will asserted itself, and +appealing to his great strength, surged until the +rawhide ropes were buried in his flesh. Not for +a moment while he stood on his feet and fought +them on the morning of that day had hope +entirely deserted him. Four years of hardship, +of privation, and adventure had so strengthened +his courage that to give up was to die.</p> + +<p>Presently, when he had exhausted his strength +and sat quietly, the Indians went on with the +preliminaries. The gold in the west grew +deeper, the shadows in the foothills darker, as +the moments sped. Swiftly the captive's mind +ran over the events of the past four years. This<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> +was his first failure, and this was the end of it +all—of the years of working and waiting.</p> + +<p>Clenching his fists, he lifted his hot face to +the dumb sky, but no sound escaped from his +parched and parted lips. Suddenly a light shone +on the semicircle of feather-framed faces in +front of him, and he heard the familiar crackling +of burning boughs. Glancing toward the ground +he saw that the fagots were on fire. He felt the +hot breath of flame, and then for the first time +realized what torture meant. Again he surged, +and surged again, the cedars crackled, the red +fiends danced. Another effort, the rawhide +parted and he stood erect. With both hands +freed he felt new strength, new hope. He tried +to free himself from the pyre, but his feet were +fettered, and he fell among his captors. Two or +three of them seized him, but he shook them off +and stood up again.</p> + +<p>But it was useless. From every side the Indians +rushed upon him and bore him to the +ground. Still he fought and struggled, and as +he fought the air seemed full of strange, wild +sounds, of shouts and shots and hoof-beating on +the dry, hard earth. He seemed to see, as<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +through a veil, scores of Indians, Indians afoot +and on horseback, naked Indians and Indians +in soldier clothes. Once he thought he saw a +white face gleam just as he got to his feet, but +at that moment the big chief stood before him, +his battle-axe uplifted. The engineer's head was +whirling. Instinctively he tried to use the strong +right arm, but it had lost its cunning. The roar +of battle grew apace, the axe descended, the left +arm went up and took the blow of the handle, +but the edge of the weapon reached over and +split the white man's chin. As he fell heavily +to the earth the light went out again.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Save for the stars that stood above him it was +still dark when Bradford woke. He felt blankets +beneath him, and asked in a whisper: "Who's +here?"</p> + +<p>"Major North, me call him," said the Pawnee +scout, who was watching over the wounded man.</p> + +<p>A moment later the gallant Major was leaning +over Bradford, encouraging him, assuring him +that he was all right, but warning him of the +danger of making the least bit of noise.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<p>With all his strength and pluck, it took time +for Bradford to recuperate. His next work was +in Washington, where, with notes and maps, his +strong personality and logical arguments, he +caused the Government to overrule an expert +who wanted to change an important piece of +road, and who had arbitrarily fixed the meeting of +the mountains and plains far up in the foothills.<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></p> + +<p>When Bradford returned to the West he found +that the whole country had suddenly taken a +great and growing interest in the transcontinental +line. Many of the leading newspapers had +dug up their old war correspondents and sent +them out to the front.</p> + +<p>These gifted prevaricators found the plain, +unvarnished story of each day's work as much as +they cared to send in at night, for the builders +were now putting down four and five miles of +road every working day. Such road building +the world had never seen, and news of it now<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +ran round the earth. At night these tireless +story-tellers listened to the strange tales told by +the trail-makers, then stole away to their tents +and wrote them out for the people at home, +while the heroes of the stories slept.</p> + +<p>The track-layers were now climbing up over +the crest of the continent, the locaters were +dropping down the Pacific slope, with the prowling +pathfinders peeping over into the Utah Valley. +Before the road reached Salt Lake City +the builders were made aware of the presence, +power, and opposition of Brigham Young. The +head of the church had decreed that the road +must pass to the south of the lake, and as the +Central Pacific had surveyed a line that way, +and General Dodge had declared in favor of the +northern route, the Mormons threw their powerful +influence to the Southern. The Union Pacific +was boycotted, and all good Mormons +forbidden to aid the road in any way.</p> + +<p>Here, again, the chief engineer brought Bradford's +diplomacy to bear on Brigham and won +him over.</p> + +<p>While the Union Pacific was building west, +the Central Pacific had been building east, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +here, in the Salt Lake basin, the advance forces +of the two companies met. The United States +Congress directed that the rails should be joined +wherever the two came together, but the bonus +($32,000 to the mile) left a good margin to the +builders in the valley, so, instead of joining the +rails, the pathfinders only said "Howdy do!" +and then "Good-bye!" and kept going. The +graders followed close upon the heels of the +engineers, so that by the time the track-layers +met the two grades paralleled each other for a +distance of two hundred miles. When the rails +actually met, the Government compelled the two +roads to couple up. It had been a friendly +contest that left no bad blood. Indeed they +were all willing to stop, for the iron trail was +open from the Atlantic to the Pacific.</p> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<p>The tenth day of May, 1869, was the date +fixed for the driving of the last spike and the +official opening of the line. Special trains, +carrying prominent railway and Government +officials, were hurrying out from the East, while<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +up from the Golden Gate came another train +bringing the flower of 'Frisco to witness, and +some of them to take an active part in, the celebration. +The day was like twenty-nine other +May days that month in the Salt Lake Valley, +fair and warm, but with a cool breeze blowing +over the sagebrush. The dusty army of trail-makers +had been resting for two days, waiting +for the people to come in clean store clothes, to +make speeches, to eat and drink, and drive the +golden spike. Some Chinese laborers had +opened a temporary laundry near the camp, and +were coining money washing faded blue overalls +for their white comrades. Many of the engineers +and foremen had dressed up that morning, +and a few had fished out a white shirt. +Judah and Strawbridge, of the Central, had little +chips of straw hats that had been harvested in +the summer of '65. Here and there you saw a +sombrero, the wide hat of the cowboy, and the +big, soft, shapeless head cover of the Mormon, +with a little bunch of whiskers on his chin. +General Dodge came from his arsenal car, that +stood on an improvised spur, in a bright, new +uniform. Of the special trains, that of Governor<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +Stanford was first to arrive, with its straight-stacked +locomotive and Celestial servants. Then +the U.P. engine panted up, with its burnished +bands and balloon stack, that reminded you of +the skirts the women wore, save that it funnelled +down. When the ladies began to jump down, +the cayuses of the cowboys began to snort and +side-step, for they had seen nothing like these +tents the women stood up in.</p> + +<p>Elaborate arrangements had been made for +transmitting the news of the celebration to the +world. All the important telegraph offices of +the country were connected with Promontory, +Utah, that day, so that the blow of the hammer +driving the last spike was communicated by the +click of the instrument to every office reached +by the wires. From the Atlantic to the Pacific +the people were rejoicing and celebrating the +event, but the worn heroes who had dreamed it +over and over for five years, while they lay in +their blankets with only the dry, hard earth beneath +them, seemed unable to realize that the +work was really done and that they could now +go home, those who had homes to go to, eat +soft bread, and sleep between sheets.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></p> + +<p>Out under an awning, made by stretching a +blanket between a couple of dump-carts, Bradford +lay, reading a 'Frisco paper that had come +by Governor Stanford's special; but even that +failed to hold his thoughts. His heart was away +out on the Atlantic coast, and he would be +hurrying that way on the morrow, the guest of +the chief engineer. He had lost his mother +when a boy, and his father just a year previous +to his banishment, but he had never lost faith in +the one woman he had loved, and he had loved +her all his life, for they had been playmates. +Now all this fuss about driving the last spike +was of no importance to him. The one thing +he longed for, lived for, was to get back to +"God's country." He heard the speeches +by Governor Stanford for the Central, and +General Dodge for the Union Pacific; heard +the prayer offered up by the Rev. Dr. Todd, +of Pittsfield; heard the General dictate to the +operator:</p> + +<p>"All ready," and presently the operator sang +out the reply from the far East:</p> + +<p>"All ready here!" and then the silver hammer +began beating the golden spike into the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +laurel tie, which bore a silver plate, upon which +was engraved:</p> + +<p class="center"> +"The Last Tie<br /> +Laid in the Completion of the Pacific<br /> +Railroads.<br /> +May 10, 1869."<br /> +</p> + +<p>After the ceremony there was handshaking +among the men and some kissing among the +women, as the two parties—one from either +coast—mingled, and then the General's tent +boy came under the blanket to call Bradford, +for the General wanted him at once. Somehow +Bradford's mind flew back to his first meeting +with this boy. He caught the boy by the arms, +held him off, and looked at him. "Say, boy," +he asked, "have I changed as much as you +have? Why, only the other day you were a +freckled beauty in high-water trousers. You're +a man now, with whiskers and a busted lip. +Say, have I changed, too?"</p> + +<p>"Naw; you're just the same," said the boy. +"Come now, the Gen's waitin'."</p> + +<p>"Judge Manning," said General Dodge, in +his strong, clear voice, "you have been calling<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +us 'heroes'; now I want to introduce the one +hero of all this heroic band—the man who has +given of muscle and brain all that a magnificent +and brilliant young man could give, and who +deserves the first place on the roll of honor +among the great engineers of our time."</p> + +<p>As the General pronounced the Judge's name +Bradford involuntarily clenched his fists and +stepped back. The Judge turned slowly, looking +all the while at the General, thrilled by his +eloquent earnestness, and catching something of +the General's admiration for so eminent a man.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Bradford," the General concluded, +"this is Judge Manning, of Boston, who came +to our rescue financially and helped us to complete +this great work to which you have so +bravely and loyally contributed."</p> + +<p>"Mr. <i>Bradford</i>, did you say?"</p> + +<p>"Well, yes. He's only Jim Bradford out +here, where we are in a hurry, but he'll be Mr. +Bradford in Boston, and the biggest man in +town when he gets back."</p> + +<p>All nervousness had gone from Bradford, and +he looked steadily into the strong face before +him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Jim Bradford," the millionnaire repeated, +still holding the engineer's hand.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Judge Manning, I'm Jim Bradford," +said the bearded pathfinder, trying to smile and +appear natural.</p> + +<p>Suddenly realizing that some explanation was +due the General, the Judge turned and said, but +without releasing the engineer's hand: "Why, +I know this young man—knew his father. We +were friends from boyhood."</p> + +<p>Slowly he returned his glance to Bradford. +"Will you come into my car in an hour from +now?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Thank you," said Bradford, nodding, and +with a quick, simultaneous pressure of hands, +the two men parted.</p> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<p>Bradford has often since felt grateful to the +Judge for that five years' sentence, but never +has he forgotten the happy thought that prompted +the capitalist to give him this last hour, in which +to get into a fresh suit and have his beard +trimmed. Bradford wore a beard always now,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +not because a handsome beard makes a handsome +man handsomer, but because it covered +and hid the hideous scar in his chin that had +been carved there by the Sioux chief.</p> + +<p>When the black porter bowed and showed +Bradford into Mr. Manning's private car, the +pleasure of their late meeting and the Judge's +kindly greeting vanished instantly. It was all +submerged and swept away, obliterated and forgotten +in the great wave of inexpressible joy +that now filled and thrilled his throbbing heart, +for it was Mary Manning who came forward to +greet him. For nearly an hour she and her +father had been listening to the wonderful story +of the last five years of the engineer's life. When +the wily General caught the drift of the young +lady's mind, and had been informed of the conditional +engagement of the young people, he left +nothing unsaid that would add to the fame and +glory of the trail-maker. With radiant face she +heard of his heroism, tireless industry, and wonderful +engineering feats; but when the narrator +came to tell how he had been captured and +held and tortured by the Indians, she slipped +her trembling hand into the hand of her father,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +and when he saw her hot tears falling he lifted +the hand and kissed it, leaving upon it tears of +his own.</p> + +<p>The Judge now produced his cigar case, and +the General, bowing to the young lady, followed +the great financier to the other end of the car, +leaving Mary alone, for they had seen Bradford +coming up the track.</p> + +<p>The dew of her sweet sorrow was still upon +her face when Bradford entered, but the sunshine +of her smile soon dried it up. The hands +he reached for escaped him. They were about +his face; then their great joy and the tears +it brought blinded them, and the wild beating +of their happy hearts drowned their voices +so that they could neither see nor hear, and +neither has ever been able to say just what +happened.</p> + +<p>On the day following this happy meeting, +when the consolidated special was rolling east-ward, +while the Judge and the General smoked +in the latter's car, the tent boy brought a +telegram back to the happy pair. It was +delivered to Miss Manning, and she read it +aloud:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<p> + "<span class="smcap">Washington</span>, May 11, 1869.<br /> +<br /> +"<span class="smcap">General G.M. Dodge</span>:<br /> +</p> + +<p>"In common with millions I sat yesterday and +heard the mystic taps of the telegraph battery announce +the nailing of the last spike in the Great +Pacific Road. All honor to you, to Durant, to +Jack and Dan Casement, to Reed and the thousands +of brave followers who have wrought out this +glorious problem, spite of changes, storms, and +even doubts of the incredulous, and all the obstacles +you have now happily surmounted!</p> + +<p> + "<span class="smcap">W.T. Sherman</span>,<br /> +<br /> + "<i>General</i>."<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Well!" she exclaimed, letting her hands and +the telegram fall in her lap, "he doesn't even +mention my hero."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, he does, my dear," said Bradford, +laughing. "I'm one of the 'thousands of brave +followers.'"</p> + +<p>Then they both laughed and forgot it, for they +were too happy to bother with trifles.</p> + +<div class="footnotes"><h3>FOOTNOTES:</h3> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> The subsidy from the Government was $16,000 a +mile on the plains, and $48,000 a mile in the mountains.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p></div> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_BELLE_OF_ATHABASCA" id="THE_BELLE_OF_ATHABASCA"></a>THE BELLE OF ATHABASCA</h2> + + +<p>Athabasca Belle did not burst upon +Smith the Silent all at once, like a rainbow +or a sunrise in the desert. He would never +say she had been thrust upon him. She was +acquired, he said, in an unguarded moment.</p> + +<p>The trouble began when Smith was pathfinding +on the upper Athabasca for the new transcontinental. +Among his other assets Smith had +two camp kettles. One was marked with the +three initials of the new line, which, at that time, +existed only on writing material, empty pots, and +equally empty parliamentary perorations. The +other was not marked at all. It was the personal +property of Jaquis, who cooked for Smith +and his outfit. The Belle was a fine looking +Cree—tall, strong, <i>magnifique</i>. Jaquis warmed +to her from the start, but the Belle was not for +Jaquis, himself a Siwash three to one. She +scarcely looked at him, and answered him only<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +when he asked if she'd <i>encore</i> the pork and +beans. But she looked at Smith. She would +sit by the hour, her elbow on her knee and her +chin in her hand, watching him wistfully, while +he drew crazy, crooked lines or pictured mountains +with rivers running between them—all of +which, from the Belle's point of view, was not +only a waste of time, but had absolutely nothing +to do with the case.</p> + +<p>The Belle and her brown mother came to the +camp of the Silent first one glorious morn in +the moon of August, with a basket of wild berries +and a pair of beaded moccasins. Smith bought +both—the berries for Jaquis, out of which he +built strange pies, and the moccasins for himself. +He called them his night slippers, but as a +matter of fact there was no night on the Athabasca +at that time. The day was divided into +three shifts, one long and two short ones,—daylight, +dusk, and dawn. So it was daylight when +the Belle first fixed her large dark eyes upon +the strong, handsome face of Smith the Silent, as +he sat on his camp stool, bent above a map he +was making. Belle's mother, being old in years +and unafraid, came close, looked at the picture<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +for a moment, and exclaimed: "Him Jasper +Lake," pointing up the Athabasca.</p> + +<p>"You know Jasper Lake?" asked the engineer, +glancing up for the first time.</p> + +<p>"<i>Oui</i>," said the old woman (Belle's step-father +was half French); "know 'im ver' well."</p> + +<p>Smith looked her over as a matter of habit, +for he allowed no man or woman to get by him +with the least bit of information concerning the +country through which his imaginary line lay. +Then he glanced at Belle for fully five seconds, +then back to his blue print. Nobody but a he-nun, +or a man already wedded to the woods, +could do that, but to the credit of the camp it +will go down that the chief was the only man in +the outfit who failed to feel her presence. As +for Jaquis, the alloyed Siwash, he carried the +scar of that first meeting for six months, and +may, for aught I know, take it with him to his +little swinging grave. Even Smith remembers +to this day how she looked, standing there on +her two trim ankles, that disappeared into her +hand-turned sandals or faded in the flute and +fringe of her fawn skin skirt. Her full bosom +rose and fell, and you could count the beat of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> +her wild heart in the throb of her throat. Her +cheeks showed a faint flush of red through the +dark olive,—the flush of health and youth,—her +nostrils dilated, like those of an Ontario high-jumper, +as she drank life from the dewy morn, +while her eye danced with the joy of being alive. +Jaquis sized and summed her up in the one word +"magnific." But in that moment, when she +caught the keen, piercing eye of the engineer, +the Belle had a stroke that comes sooner or later +to all these wild creatures of the wilderness, but +comes to most people but once in a lifetime. +She never forgot the gleam of that one glance, +though the Silent one was innocent enough.</p> + +<p>It was during the days that followed, when +she sat and watched him at his work, or followed +him for hours in the mountain fastnesses, that +the Belle of Athabasca lost her heart.</p> + +<p>When he came upon a bit of wild scenery and +stopped to photograph it, the Belle stood back +of him, watching his every movement, and when +he passed on she followed, keeping always out +of sight.</p> + +<p>The Belle's mother haunted him. As often +as he broke camp and climbed a little higher<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> +upstream, the brown mother moved also, and +with her the Belle.</p> + +<p>"What does this old woman want?" asked +the engineer of Jaquis one evening when, returning +to his tent, he found the fat Cree and +her daughter camping on his trail.</p> + +<p>"She want that pot," said Jaquis.</p> + +<p>"Then for the love of We-sec-e-gea, god of +the Crees," said Smith, "give it into her hands +and bid her begone."</p> + +<p>Jaquis did as directed, and the old Indian +went away, but she left the girl.</p> + +<p>The next day Smith started on a reconnoissance +that would occupy three or four days. As +he never knew himself when he would return, he +never took the trouble to inform Jaquis, the tail +of the family.</p> + +<p>After breakfast the Belle went over to her +mother's. She would have lunched with her +mother from the much coveted kettle, but the +Belle's mother told her that she should return +to the camp of the white man, who was now her +lord and master. So the Belle went back and +lunched with Jaquis, who otherwise must have +lunched alone. Jaquis tried to keep her, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> +wooed her in his half-wild way; but to her +sensitive soul he was repulsive. Moreover, she +felt that in some mysterious manner her mother +had transferred her, together with her love and +allegiance, to Smith the Silent, and to him she +must be true. Therefore she returned to the +Cree camp.</p> + +<p>As the sinking sun neared the crest of the +Rockies, the young Indian walked back to the +engineer's camp. As she strode along the new +trail she plucked wildflowers by the wayside +and gathered leaves and wove them into vari-colored +wreaths, swinging along with the easy +grace of a wild deer.</p> + +<p>Now some women would say she had not +much to make her happy, but she was happy +nevertheless. She loved a man—to her the +noblest, most god-like creature of his kind,—and +she was happy in abandoning herself to him. +She had lived in this love so long, had felt and +seen it grow from nothing to something formidable, +then to something fine, until now it filled her +and thrilled her; it overspread everything, outran +her thoughts, brought the far-off mountains +nearer, shortened the trail between her camp<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +and his, gave a new glow to the sunset, a new +glory to the dawn and a fresher fragrance to the +wildflowers; the leaves whispered to her, the +birds came, nearer and sang sweeter; in short it +was her life—the sunshine of her soul. And +that's the way a wild woman loves.</p> + +<p>And she was to see him soon. Perhaps he +would speak to her, or smile on her. If only he +gave a passing glance she would be glad and +content to know that he was near. Alas, he +came not at all. She watched with the stars +through the short night, slept at dawn, and woke +to find Jaquis preparing the morning meal. She +thought to question Jaquis, but her interest in +the engineer, and the growing conviction that +his own star sank as his master's rose, rendered +him unsafe as a companion to a young bride +whose husband was in the hills and unconscious +of the fact that he was wedded to anything save +the wilderness and his work.</p> + +<p>Jaquis not only refused to tell her where the +engineer was operating, but promised to strangle +her if she mentioned his master's name again.</p> + +<p>At last the long day died, the sunset was less +golden, and the stars sang sadder than they sang<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +the day before. She watched the west, into +which he had gone and out of which she hoped +he might return to her. Another round of dusk +and dawn and there came another day, with its +hours that hung like ages. When she sighed +her mother scolded and Jaquis swore. When at +last night came to curtain the hills, she stole out +under the stars and walked and walked until the +next day dawned. A lone wolf howled to his +kith, but they were not hungry and refused to +answer his call. Often, in the dark, she fancied +she heard faint, feline footsteps behind her. +Once a big black bear blocked her trail, staring +at her with lifted muzzle wet with dew and +stained with berry juice. She did not faint nor +scream nor stay her steps, but strode on. Now +nearer and nearer came the muffled footsteps +behind her. The black bear backed from the +trail and kept backing, pivoting slowly, like a +locomotive on a turntable, and as she passed +on, stood staring after her, his small eyes blinking +in babylike bewilderment. And so through +the dusk and dark and dawn this love-mad +maiden walked the wilderness, innocent of arms, +and with no one near to protect her save the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +little barefooted bowman whom the white man +calls the God of Love.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile away to the west, high in the hills, +where the Findlay flowing into the Pine makes +the Peace, then cutting through the crest of the +continent makes a path for the Peace, Smith +and his little army, isolated, remote, with no +cable connecting them with the great cities of +civilization, out of touch with the telegraph, away +from the war correspondent, with only the music +of God's rills for a regimental band, were battling +bravely in a war that can end only with the +conquest of a wilderness. Ah, these be the +great generals—these unheralded heroes who, +while the smoke of slaughter smudges the skies +and shadows the sun, wage a war in which they +kill only time and space, and in the end, without +despoiling the rest of the world, win homes for +the homeless. These are the heroes of the +Anglo-Saxon race.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Finding no trace of the trail-makers, the Belle +faced the rising sun and sought the camp of the +Crees.</p> + +<p>The mysterious shadow with the muffled tread,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> +that had followed her from the engineer's camp, +shrank back into the bush as she passed down +the trail. That was Jaquis. He watched her +as she strode by him, uncertain as to whether he +loved or hated her, for well he knew why she +walked the wilderness all night alone. Now +the Gitche in his unhappy heart made him long +to lift her in his arms and carry her to camp, +and then the bad god, Mitche, would assert +himself and say to the savage that was in him, +"Go, kill her. She despises her race and flings +herself at the white man's feet." And so, impelled +by passion and stayed by love, he followed +her. The white man within him made him +ashamed of his skulking, and the Indian that was +in him guided him around her and home by a +shorter trail.</p> + +<p>That night the engineers returned, and when +Smith saw the Cree in the camp he jumped on +Jaquis furiously.</p> + +<p>"Why do you keep this woman here?" he +demanded.</p> + +<p>"I—keep? Me?" quoth Jaquis, blinking +as bewildered as the black bear had blinked at +the Belle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Who but you?—you heathen!" hissed the +engineer.</p> + +<p>Now Jaquis, calling up the ghosts of his dead +sires, asserted that it was the engineer himself +who was "keeping" the Cree. "You bought +her—she's yours," said Jaquis, in the presence +of the company.</p> + +<p>"You ill-bred ——" Smith choked, and +reached for a tent prop. The next moment his +hand was at the Indian's throat. With a quick +twist of his collar band he shut off the Siwash's +wind, choking him to the earth.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean?" he demanded, and +Jaquis, coughing, put up his hands. "I meant +no lie," said he. "Did you not give to her +mother the camp kettle? She has it, marked +G.T.P."</p> + +<p>"And what of that?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Voilà</i>," said Jaquis, "because of that she +gave to you the Belle of Athabasca."</p> + +<p>Smith dropped his stick, releasing the Indian.</p> + +<p>"I did not mean she is sold to you. She is +trade—trade for the empty pot, the Belle—the +beautiful. From yesterday to this day she followed +you, far, very far, to the foot of the Grande<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> +Côte, and nothing harmed her. The mountain +lion looked on her in terror, the timber wolf took +to the hills, the black bear backed from the trail +and let her pass in peace," said Jaquis, with glowing +enthusiasm. It was the first time he had +talked of her, save to the stars and to We-sec-e-gea, +and he glowed and grew eloquent in praise +of her.</p> + +<p>"You take her," said Smith, with one finger +levelled at the head of the cook, "to the camp +of the Crees. Say to her mother that your +master is much obliged for the beautiful gift, but +he's too busy to get married and too poor to +support a wife."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>From the uttermost rim of the ring of light +that came from the flickering fire la Belle the +beautiful heard and saw all that had passed between +the two men. She did not throw herself +at the feet of the white man. Being a wild +woman she did not weep nor cry out with the +pain of his words, that cut like cold steel into her +heart. She leaned against an aspen tree, stroking +her throat with her left hand, swallowing with +difficulty. Slowly from her girdle she drew a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +tiny hunting-knife, her one weapon, and toyed +with it. She put the hilt to the tree, the point +to her bare breast, and breathed a prayer to We-sec-e-gea, +god of the Crees. She had only to +throw the weight of her beautiful body on the +blade, sink without a moan to the moss, and pass, +leaving the camp undisturbed.</p> + +<p>Smith marked the faintest hint of sarcasm in +the half smile of the Indian as he turned away.</p> + +<p>"Come here," he cried. Jaquis approached +cautiously. "Now, you skulking son of a Siwash, +this is to be skin for skin. If any harm +comes to that young Cree you go to your little +hammock in the hemlocks—you understand?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Oui, Monsieur</i>," said Jaquis.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then; remember—skin for skin."</p> + +<p>Now to the Belle, watching from her shelter +in the darkness, there was something splendid in +this. To hear her praises sung by the Siwash, +then to have the fair god, who had heard that +story, champion her, to take the place of her protector, +was all new to her. "Ah, good God," +she sighed; "it is better, a thousand times +better, to love and lose him than to waste one's +life, never knowing this sweet agony."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> + +<p>She felt in a vague way that she was soaring +above the world and its woes. At times, in the +wild tumult of her tempestuous soul, she seemed +to be borne beyond it all, through beautiful +worlds. Love, for her, had taken on great white +wings, and as he wafted her out of the wilderness +and into her heaven, his talons tore into +her heart and hurt like hell, yet she could rejoice +because of the exquisite pleasure that surpassed +the pain.</p> + +<p>"Sweet We-sec-e-gea," she sighed, "good +god of my dead, I thank thee for the gift of this +great love that stays the steel when my aching +heart yearns for it. I shall not destroy myself +and distress him, disturbing him in his great +work, whatever it is; but live—live and love +him, even though he send me away."</p> + +<p>She kissed the burnished blade and returned +it to her belt.</p> + +<p>When Jaquis, circling the camp, failed to find +her, he guessed that she was gone, and hurried +after her along the dim, starlit trail. When he +had overtaken her, they walked on together. +Jaquis tried now to renew his acquaintance with +the handsome Cree and to make love to her.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +She heard him in absolute silence. Finally, as +they were nearing the Cree camp, he taunted +her with having been rejected by the white man.</p> + +<p>"And my shame is yours," said she softly. +"I love him; he sends me away. You love me; +I send you from me—it is the same."</p> + +<p>Jaquis, quieted by this simple statement, said +good-night and returned to the tents, where the +pathfinders were sleeping peacefully under the +stars.</p> + +<p>And over in the Cree camp the Belle of Athabasca, +upon her bed of boughs, slept the sleep +of the innocent, dreaming sweet dreams of her +fair god, and through them ran a low, weird +song of love, and in her dream Love came down +like a beautiful bird and bore her out of this life +and its littleness, and though his talons tore +at her heart and hurt, yet was she happy because +of the exquisite pleasure that surpassed +all pain.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="PATHFINDING_IN_THE_NORTHWEST" id="PATHFINDING_IN_THE_NORTHWEST"></a>PATHFINDING IN THE NORTHWEST</h2> + + +<p>It was summer when my friend Smith, whose +real name is Jones, heard that the new +transcontinental line would build by the way of +Peace River Pass to the Pacific. He immediately +applied, counting something, no doubt, on +his ten years of field work in Washington, Oregon, +and other western states, and five years +pathfinding in Canada.</p> + +<p>The summer died; the hills and rills and the +rivers slept, but while they slept word came to +my friend Smith the Silent, and he hurriedly +packed his sleds and set out.</p> + +<p>His orders were, like the orders of Admiral +Dewey, to do certain things—not merely to +try. He was to go out into the northern night +called winter, feel his way up the Athabasca, +over the Smoky, follow the Peace River, and +find the pass through the Rockies.</p> + +<p>If the simple story of that winter campaign +could be written out it would be finer than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +fiction. But it will never be. Only Smith the +Silent knows, and he won't tell.</p> + +<p>Sometimes, over the pipe, he forgets and +gives me glimpses into the winter camp, with +the sun going out like a candle: the hastily +made camp with the half-breed spotting the dry +wood against the coming moment when night +would drop over the forest like a curtain over a +stage; the "lean-to" between the burning logs, +where he dozes or dreams, barely beyond the +reach of the flames; the silence all about, Jaquis +pulling at his pipe, and the huskies sleeping in +the snow like German babies under the eiderdown. +Sometimes, out of the love of bygone +days, he tells of long toilsome journeys with the +sun hiding behind clouds out of which an avalanche +of snow falls, with nothing but the needle +to tell where he hides; of hungry dogs and half +starved horses, and lakes and rivers fifty and a +hundred miles out of the way.</p> + +<p>Once, he told me, he sent an engineer over +a low range to spy out a pass. By the maps +and other data they figured that he would be gone +three days, but a week went by and no word +from the pathfinder. Ten days and no news.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +On the thirteenth day, when Smith was preparing +to go in search of the wanderer, the running +gear of the man and the framework of the +dogs came into camp. He was able to smile +and say to Smith that he had been ten days +without food, save a little tea. For the dogs he +had had nothing.</p> + +<p>A few days rest and they were on the trail +again, or on the "go" rather; and you might +know that disciple of Smith the Silent six +months or six years before he would, unless you +worked him, refer to that ten days' fast. They +think no more of that than a Jap does of dying. +It's all in the day's work.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, Smith said, the sun swung north, +the days grew longer. The sun grew hot and the +snow melted on the south hills; the hushed rivers, +rending their icy bonds, went roaring down to +the Lakes and out towards the Arctic Ocean. +And lo, suddenly, like the falling of an Arctic +night, the momentary spring passed and it was +summer time.</p> + +<p>Then it was that Smith came into Edmonton +to make his first report, and here we met for the +first time for many snows.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + +<p>Joyously, as a boy kicks the cover off on circus +morning, this Northland flings aside her +winter wraps and stands forth in her glorious +garb of summer. The brooklets murmur, the +rivers sing, and by their banks and along the +lakes waterfowl frolic, and overhead glad birds, +that seem to have dropped from the sky, sing +joyfully the almost endless song of summer. At +the end of the long day, when the sun, as if to +make up for its absence, lingers, loath to leave +us in the twilight, beneath their wings the song-birds +hide their heads, then wake and sing, for +the sun is swinging up over the horizon where +the pink sky, for an hour, has shown the narrow +door through which the day is dawning.</p> + +<p>The dogs and sleds have been left behind and +now, with Jaquis the half-breed "boy" leading, +followed closely by Smith the Silent, we go +deeper and deeper each day into the pathless +wilderness.</p> + +<p>To be sure it is not all bush, all forest. At +times we cross wide reaches of wild prairie lands. +Sometimes great lakes lie immediately in front of +us, compelling us to change our course. Now +we come to a wide river and raft our outfit over,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +swimming our horses. Weeks go by and we +begin to get glimpses of the Rockies rising above +the forest, and we push on. The streams become +narrower as we ascend, but swifter and +more dangerous.</p> + +<p>We do not travel constantly now, as we have +been doing. Sometimes we keep our camp for +two or three days. The climbing is hard, for +Smith must get to the top of every peak in sight, +and so I find it "good hunting" about the +camp.</p> + +<p>Jaquis is a fairly good cook, and what he lacks +we make up with good appetites, for we live almost +constantly out under the sun and stars.</p> + +<p>Pathfinders always lay up on Sunday, and +sometimes, the day being long, Smith steals out +to the river and comes back with a mountain +trout as long as a yardstick.</p> + +<p>The scenery is beyond description. Now we +pass over the shoulder of a mountain with a river +a thousand feet below. Sometimes we trail for +hours along the shore of a limpid lake that seems +to run away to the foot of the Rockies.</p> + +<p>Far away we get glimpses of the crest of +the continent, where the Peace River gashes it<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +as if it had been cleft by the sword of the +Almighty; and near the Rockies, on either bank, +grand battlements rise that seem to guard the +pass as the Sultan's fortresses frown down on the +Dardanelles.</p> + +<p>Now we follow a narrow trail that was not a +trail until we passed. A careless pack-horse, +carrying our blankets, slips from the path and +goes rolling and tumbling down the mountain +side. A thousand feet below lies an arm of the +Athabasca. Down, down, and over and over +the pack-horse goes, and finally fetches up on a +ledge five hundred feet below the trail. "By +damn," says Jaquis, "dere is won bronco bust, +eh?"</p> + +<p>Smith and Jaquis go down to cut the cinches +and save the pack, and lo, up jumps our cayuse, +and when he is repacked he takes the trail as +good as new. The pack and the low bush save +his life.</p> + +<p>In any other country, to other men, this would +be exciting, but it's all in the day's work with +Smith and Jaquis.</p> + +<p>The pack-pony that had been down the mountain +is put in the lead now—that is, in the lead<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> +of the pack animals; for he has learned his lesson, +he will be careful. And yet we are to have +other experiences along this same river.</p> + +<p>Suddenly, down a side cañon, a mountain +stream rushes, plunging into the Athabasca, joyfully, +like a sea-bather into the surf. Jaquis calls +this side-stream "the mill-tail o' hell." Smith +the Silent prepares to cross. It's all very simple. +All you need is a stout pole, a steady nerve, and +an utter disregard for the hereafter.</p> + +<p>When Smith is safe on the other shore we +drive the horses into the stream. They shudder +and shrink from the ice-cold water, but Jaquis +and I urge them, and in they plunge. My, +what a struggle! Their wet feet on the slippery +boulders in the bottom of the stream, the swift +current constantly tripping them—it was thrilling +to see and must have been agony for the +animals.</p> + +<p>Midway, where the current was strongest, a +mouse-colored cayuse carrying a tent lost his +feet. The turbulent tide slammed him up on +top of a great rock, barely hidden beneath the +water, and he got to his feet like a cat that has +fallen upon the edge of an eave-trough. Trembling,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> +the cayuse called to Smith, and Smith, +running downstream, called back, urging the +animal to leave the refuge and swim for it. +The pack-horse perched on the rock gazes +wistfully at the shore. The waters, breaking +against his resting-place, wash up to his trembling +knees. About him the wild river roars, +and just below leaps over a ten-foot fall into +the Athabasca.</p> + +<p>All the other horses, having crossed safely, +shake the water from their dripping sides and +begin cropping the tender grass. We could +have heard that horse's heart beat if we could +have hushed the river's roar.</p> + +<p>Smith called again, the cayuse turned slightly, +and whether he leaped deliberately or his feet +slipped on the slippery stones, forcing him to +leap, we could not say, but he plunged suddenly +into the stream, uttering a cry that echoed up the +cañon and over the river like the cry of a lost +soul.</p> + +<p>The cruel current caught him, lifted him, +and plunged him over the drop, and he was +lost instantly in the froth and foam of the +falls.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>Far down, at a bend of the Athabasca, something +white could be seen drifting towards the +shore. That night Smith the Silent made an +entry in his little red book marked "Grand +Trunk Pacific," and tented under the stars.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CURES_CHRISTMAS_GIFT" id="THE_CURES_CHRISTMAS_GIFT"></a>THE CURÉ'S CHRISTMAS GIFT</h2> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">"A country that is bad or good,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Precisely as your claim pans out;<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A land that's much misunderstood,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Misjudged, maligned and lied about."<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<p>When the pathfinders for the New National +Highway pushed open the side door and +peeped through to the Pacific they not only discovered +a short cut to Yokohama, but opened to +the world a new country, revealing the last +remnant of the Last West.</p> + +<p>Edmonton is the outfiling point, of course, +but Little Slave Lake is the real gateway to the +wilderness. Here we were to make our first +stop (we were merely exploring), and from this +point our first portage was to the Peace River, +at Chinook, where we would get into touch once +more with the Hudson's Bay Company.</p> + +<p>Jim Cromwell, the free trader who was in +command of Little Slave, made us welcome, introducing +us <i>ensemble</i> to his friend, a former<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +H.B. factor, to the Yankee who was looking for +a timber limit, to the "Literary Cuss," as he +called the young man in corduroys and a wide +white hat, who was endeavoring to get past +"tradition," that has damned this Dominion +both in fiction and in fact for two hundred years, +and do something that had in it the real color of +the country.</p> + +<p>At this point the free trader paused to assemble +the Missourian. This iron-gray individual shook +himself out, came forward, and gripped our +hands, one after another.</p> + +<p>The free trader would not allow us to make +camp that night. We were sentenced to sup +and lodge with him, furnishing our own bedding, +of course, but baking his bread.</p> + +<p>The smell of cooking coffee and the odor of +frying fish came to us from the kitchen, and +floating over from somewhere the low, musical, +well modulated voice of Cromwell, conversing +in Cree, as he moved about among his mute +and apparently inoffensive camp servants.</p> + +<p>The day died hard. The sun was still shining +at 9 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span> At ten it was twilight, and in the +dusk we sat listening to tales of the far North,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> +totally unlike the tales we read in the story-books. +Smith the Silent, who was in charge of +our party, was interested in the country, of +course, its physical condition, its timber, its +coal, and its mineral possibilities. He asked +about its mountains and streams, its possible and +impossible passes; but the "Literary Cuss" and +I were drinking deeply of weird stories that were +being told quite incautiously by the free trader, +the old factor, and by the Missourian. We were +like children, this young author and I, sitting +for the first time in a theatre. The flickering +camp fire that we had kindled in the open served +as a footlight, while the Gitch Lamp, still gleaming +in the west, glanced through the trees and +lit up the faces of the three great actors who +were entertaining us without money and without +price. The Missourian was the star. He had +been reared in the lap of luxury, had run away +from college where he had been installed by a +rich uncle, his guardian, and jumped down to +South America. He had ridden with the Texas +Rangers and with President Diaz's Regulators, +had served as a scout on the plains and worked +with the Mounted Police, but was now "retired."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span></p> + +<p>All of which we learned not from him directly, +but from the stories he told and from his bosom +friend, the free trader, whose guests we were, +and whose word, for the moment at least, we +respected.</p> + +<p>The camp fire burned down to a bed of coals, +the Gitch Lamp went out. In the west, now, +there was only a glow of gold, but no man +moved.</p> + +<p>Smith the Pathfinder and our host the free +trader bent over a map. "But isn't this map +correct?" Smith would ask, and when in doubt +Jim would call the Missourian. "No," said the +latter, "you can't float down that river because +it flows the other way, and that range of mountains +is two hundred miles out."</p> + +<p>Gradually we became aware that all this vast +wilderness, to the world unknown, was an open +book to this quiet man who had followed the +buffalo from the Rio Grande to the Athabasca +where he turned, made a last stand, and then +went down.</p> + +<p>When the rest had retired the free trader +and I sat talking of the Last West, of the new +trail my friends were blazing, and of the wonderfully<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> +interesting individual whom we called the +Missourian.</p> + +<p>"He had a prospecting pard," said Jim, +"whom he idolized. This man, whose name +was Ramsey, Jack Ramsey, went out in '97 +between the Coast Range and the Rockies, and +now this sentimental old pioneer says he will +never leave the Peace River until he finds +Ramsey's bones.</p> + +<p>"You see," Cromwell continued, "friendship +here and what goes for friendship outside are +vastly different. The matter of devoting one's +life to a friend or to a duty, real or fancied, is +only a trifle to these men who abide in the +wilderness. I know of a Chinaman and a Cree +who lived and died the most devoted friends. +You see the Missourian hovering about the +last camping-place of his companion. Behold +the factor! He has left the Hudson Bay Company +after thirty years because he has lost his +life's best friend, a man who spoke another +language, whose religion was not the brand upon +which the factor had been brought up in England; +yet they were friends."</p> + +<p>The camp fire had gone out. In the south<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +we saw the first faint flush of dawn as Cromwell, +knocking the ashes from his pipe, advised me to +go to bed. "You get the old factor to tell you +the story of his friend the curé, and of the +curé's Christmas gift," Cromwell called back, +and I made a point of getting the story, bit by +bit, from the florid factor himself, and you shall +read it as it has lingered in my memory.</p> + +<p>When the new curé came to Chinook on the +Upper Peace River, he carried a small hand-satchel, +his blankets, and a crucifix. His face +was drawn, his eyes hungry, his frame wasted, +but his smile was the smile of a man at peace +with the world. The West—the vast, undiscovered +Canadian West—jarred on the sensitive +nerves of this Paris-bred priest. And yet, when +he crossed the line that marks what we are pleased +to call "civilization," and had reached the heart +of the real Northwest, where the people were +unspoiled, natural, and honest, where a handful +of Royal Northwest Mounted Police kept +order in an empire that covers a quarter of a +continent, he became deeply interested in this +new world, in the people, in the imperial +prairies, the mountains, and the great wide<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +rivers that were racing down to the northern +sea.</p> + +<p>The factor at the Hudson's Bay post, whose +whole life since he had left college in England had +been passed on the Peace River, at York Factory, +and other far northern stations over which +waved the Hudson's Bay banner, warmed to the +new curé from their first meeting, and the curé +warmed to him. Each seemed to find in the +other a companion that neither had been able to +find among the few friends of his own faith.</p> + +<p>And so, through the long evenings of the +northern winter, they sat in the curé's cabin +study or by the factor's fire, and talked of the +things which they found interesting, including +politics, literature, art, and Indians. Despite the +great gulf that rolled between the two creeds in +which they had been cradled, they found that +they were in accord three times in five—a fair +average for men of strong minds and inherent +prejudices. At first the curé was anxious to +get at the real work of "civilizing" the natives.</p> + +<p>"Yes," the factor would say, blowing the +smoke upward, "the Indian should be civilized—slowly—the +slower the better."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>The curé would pretend to look surprised +as he relit his pipe. Once the curé asked +the factor why he was so indifferent to the welfare +of the Crees, who were the real producers, +without whose furs there would be no trade, no +post, no job for the ruddy-faced factor. The +priest was surprised that the factor should appear +to fail to appreciate the importance of the +trapper.</p> + +<p>"I do," said the factor.</p> + +<p>"Then why do you not help us to lift him to +the light?"</p> + +<p>"I like him," was the laconic reply.</p> + +<p>"Then why don't you talk to him of his +soul?"</p> + +<p>"Haven't the nerve," said the factor, shaking +his head and blowing more smoke.</p> + +<p>The curé shrugged his shoulders.</p> + +<p>"I say," said the florid factor, facing the pale +priest. "Did you see me decorating the old +chief, Dunraven, yesterday?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I presume you were giving him a <i>pour +boire</i> in advance to secure the greater catch of +furs next season," said the priest, with his usual +sad yet always pleasant smile.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span></p> + +<p>"A very poor guess for one so wise," said +the factor. "<i>Attendez</i>," he continued. "This +post used to be closed always in winter. The +tent doors were tied fast on the inside, after +which the man who tied them would crawl out +under the edge of the canvas. When winter +came, the snow, banked about, held the tent +tightly down, and the Hudson's Bay business +was bottled at this point until the springless summer +came to wake the sleeping world.</p> + +<p>"Last winter was a hard winter. The snow +was deep and game scarce. One day a Cree +Indian found himself in need of tea and tobacco, +and more in need of a new pair of trousers. +Passing the main tent one day, he was sorely +tempted. Dimly, through the parchment pane, +he could see great stacks of English tweeds, piles +of tobacco, and boxes of tea, but the tent was +closed. He was sorely tried. He was hungry—hungry +for a horn of tea and a twist of the +weed, and cold, too. Ah, <i>bon père</i>, it is hard +to withstand cold and hunger with only a canvas +between one and the comforts of life!"</p> + +<p>"<i>Oui, Monsieur!</i>" said the curé, warmly, +touched by the pathos of the tale.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> + +<p>"The Indian walked away (we know that by +his footprints), but returned to the tent. The +hunger and the cold had conquered. He took +his hunting-knife and slit the deerskin window +and stepped inside. Then he approached the +pile of tweed trousers and selected a large pair, +putting down from the bunch of furs he had on +his arms to the value of eight skins—the price +his father and grandfather had paid. He visited +the tobacco pile and helped himself, leaving four +skins on the tobacco. When he had taken tea +he had all his heart desired, and having still a +number of skins left, he hung them upon a hook +overhead and went away.</p> + +<p>"When summer dawned and a clerk came to +open the post, he saw the slit in the window, +and upon entering the tent saw the eight skins +on the stack of tweeds, the four skins on the +tobacco, and the others on the chest, and understood.</p> + +<p>"Presently he saw the skins which the Indian +had hung upon the hook, took them down, +counted them carefully, appraised them, and +made an entry in the Receiving Book, in which +he credited 'Indian-cut-the-window, 37 skins.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Yesterday Dunraven came to the post and +confessed.</p> + +<p>"It was to reward him for his honesty that I +gave him the fur coat and looped the big brass +baggage check in his buttonhole. <i>Voilà!</i>"</p> + +<p>The curé crossed his legs and then recrossed +them, tossed his head from side to side, drummed +upon the closed book which lay in his lap, and +showed in any number of ways, peculiar to nervous +people, his amazement at the story and his +admiration for the Indian.</p> + +<p>"Little things like that," said the factor, filling +his pipe, "make me timid when talking to a +Cree about 'being good.'"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When summer came, and with it the smell +of flowers and the music of running streams, +the factor and his friend the curé used to take +long tramps up into the highlands, but the +curé's state of health was a handicap to him. +The factor saw the telltale flush in the priest's +face and knew that the "White Plague" had +marked him; yet he never allowed the curé to +know that he knew. That summer a little river +steamer was sent up from Athabasca Lake by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +the Chief Commissioner who sat in the big office +at Winnipeg, and upon this the factor and his +friend took many an excursion up and down the +Peace. The friendship that had grown up between +the factor and the new curé formed +the one slender bridge that connected the Anglican +and the Catholic camps. Even the +"heathen Crees" marvelled that these white +men, praying to the same God, should dwell so +far apart. Wing You, who had wandered over +from Ramsay's Camp on the Pine River, explained +it all to Dunraven: "Flenchman and +Englishman," said Wing. "No ketchem same +Glod. You—Clee," continued the wise Oriental, +"an' Englishman good flend—ketchem +same Josh; you call 'im We-sec-e-gea, white man +call 'im God."</p> + +<p>And so, having the same God, only called by +different names, the Crees trusted the factor, and +the factor trusted the Crees. Their business intercourse +was on the basis of skin for skin, furs +being the recognized coin of the country.</p> + +<p>"Why do you not pay them in cash, take +cash in turn, and let them have something to +rattle?" asked the curé one day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span></p> + +<p>"They won't have it," said the factor. "Silver +Skin, brother to Dunraven, followed a party of +prospectors out to Edmonton last fall and tried +it. He bought a pair of gloves, a red handkerchief, +and a pound of tobacco, and emptied his +pockets on the counter, so that the clerk in the +shop might take out the price of the goods. +According to his own statement, the Indian +put down $37.80. He took up just six-thirty-five. +When the Cree came back to God's +country he showed me what he had left and +asked me to check him up. When I had told +him the truth, he walked to the edge of the river +and sowed the six-thirty-five broadcast on the +broad bosom of the Peace."</p> + +<p>And so, little by little, the patient priest got +the factor's view-point, and learned the great +secret of the centuries of success that has attended +the Hudson's Bay Company in the far +North.</p> + +<p>And little by little the two men, without +preaching, revealed to the Indians and the Oriental +the mystery of Life—vegetable life at first—of +death and life beyond. They showed +them the miracle of the wheat.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> + +<p>On the first day of June they put into a tiny +grave a grain of wheat. They told the Blind +Ones that the berry would suffer death, decay, +but out of that grave would spring fresh new +flags that would grow and blow, fanned by the +balmy chinook winds, and wet by the dews of +heaven.</p> + +<p>On the first day of September they harvested +seventy-two stalks and threshed from the seventy-two +stalks seven thousand two hundred grains +of wheat. They showed all this to the Blind +Ones and they saw. The curé explained that +we, too, would go down and die, but live again +in another life, in a fairer world.</p> + +<p>The Cree accepted it all in absolute silence, +but the Oriental, with his large imagination, exclaimed, +pointing to the tiny heap of golden +grain: "Me ketchem die, me sleep, byme by +me wake up in China—seven thousand—heap +good." The curé was about to explain when +the factor put up a warning finger. "Don't cut +it too fine, father," said he. "They're getting +on very well."</p> + +<p>That was a happy summer for the two men, +working together in the garden in the cool dawn<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +and chatting in the long twilight that lingers on +the Peace until 11 <span class="smcap">p.m.</span> Alas! as the summer +waned the factor saw that his friend was +failing fast. He could walk but a short distance +now without resting, and when the red rose of +the Upper Athabasca caught the first cold kiss +of Jack Frost, the good priest took to his bed. +Wing You, the accomplished cook, did all he +could to tempt him to eat and grow strong again. +Dunraven watched from day to day for an opportunity +to "do something"; but in vain. The +faithful factor made daily visits to the bedside +of his sick friend. As the priest, who was still +in the springtime of his life, drew nearer to the +door of death, he talked constantly of his beloved +mother in far-off France—a thing unusual for a +priest, who is supposed to burn his bridges when +he leaves the world for the church.</p> + +<p>Often when he talked thus, the factor wanted +to ask his mother's name and learn where she +lived, but always refrained.</p> + +<p>Late in the autumn the factor was called to +Edmonton for a general conference of all the +factors in the employ of the Honorable Company +of gentlemen adventurers trading into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +Hudson's Bay. With a heavy heart he said +good-bye to the failing priest.</p> + +<p>When he had come within fifty miles of +Chinook, on the return trip, he was wakened +at midnight by Dunraven, who had come out to +ask him to hurry up as the curé was dying, but +wanted to speak to the factor first.</p> + +<p>Without a word the Englishman got up and +started forward, Dunraven leading on the second +lap of his "century."</p> + +<p>It was past midnight again when the <i>voyageurs</i> +arrived at the river. There was a dim light in +the curé's cabin, to which Dunraven led them, +and where the Catholic bishop and an Irish +priest were on watch. "So glad to see you," +said the bishop. "There is something he wants +from your place, but he will not tell Wing. +Speak to him, please."</p> + +<p>"Ah, <i>Monsieur</i>, I'm glad that you are come—I'm +weary and want to be off."</p> + +<p>"The long <i>traverse</i>, eh?"</p> + +<p>"<i>Oui, Monsieur</i>—<i>le grand voyage</i>."</p> + +<p>"Is there anything I can do for you?" asked +the Englishman. The dying priest made a +movement as if hunting for something. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +bishop, to assist, stepped quickly to his side. +The patient gave up the quest of whatever he +was after and looked languidly at the factor. +"What is it, my son?" asked the bishop, bending +low. "What would you have the factor +fetch from his house?"</p> + +<p>"Just a small bit of cheese," said the sick +man, sighing wearily.</p> + +<p>"Now, that's odd," mused the factor, as he +went off on his strange errand.</p> + +<p>When the Englishman returned to the cabin, +the bishop and the priest stepped outside for a +breath of fresh air. Upon a bench on the narrow +veranda Dunraven sat, resting after his hundred-mile +tramp, and on the opposite side of the +threshold Wing You lay sleeping in his blankets, +so as to be in easy call if he were wanted.</p> + +<p>When the two friends were alone, the sick +man signalled, and the factor drew near.</p> + +<p>"I have a great favor—a very great favor to +ask of you," the priest began, "and then I'm +off. Ah, <i>mon Dieu!</i>" he panted. "It has been +hard to hold out. Jesus has been kind."</p> + +<p>"It's damned tough at your time, old fellow," +said the factor, huskily.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It's not my time, but His."</p> + +<p>"Yes—well I shall be over by and by."</p> + +<p>"And those faithful dogs—Dunraven and +Wing—thank them for—"</p> + +<p>"Sure! If <i>I</i> can pass," the factor broke in, +a little confused.</p> + +<p>"Thank them for me—for their kindnesses—and +care. Tell them to remember the sermon +of the wheat. And now, good friend," +said the priest, summoning all his strength, +"<i>attendez</i>!"</p> + +<p>He drew a thin, white hand from beneath the +cover, carrying a tiny crucifix. "I want you to +send this to my beloved mother by registered +post; send it yourself, please, so that she may +have it before the end of the year. This will be +my last Christmas gift to her. And the one +that comes from her to me—that is for you, to +keep in remembrance of me. And write to her—oh, +so gently tell her—Jesus—help me," he +gasped, sitting upright. "She lives in Rue —— +O Mary, Mother of Jesus," he cried, clutching +at the collar of his gown; and then he fell back +upon his bed, and his soul swept skyward like a +toy balloon when the thin thread snaps.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the autumn sun smiled down on Chinook +and the autumn wind sighed in by the +door and out by the open window where +the dead priest lay, Wing and Dunraven sat on +the rude bench in the little veranda, going over +it all, each in his own tongue, but uttering never +a word, yet each to the other expressing the +silence of his soul.</p> + +<p>The factor, in the seclusion of his bachelor +home, held the little cross up and examined it +critically. "To be sent to his mother, she lives +in Rue —— Ah, if I could have been but a day +sooner; yet the bishop must know," he added, +putting the crucifix carefully away.</p> + +<p>The good people in the other world, beyond +the high wall that separated the two Christian +Tribes, had been having shivers over the factor +and his fondness for the Romans; but when he +volunteered to assist at the funeral of his dead +friend, <i>his</i> people were shocked. In that scant +settlement there were not nearly enough priests +to perform, properly, the funeral services, so the +factor fell in, mingling his deep full voice with +the voices of the bishop and the Irish brother, +and grieving even as they grieved.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>And the Blind Ones, Wing and Dunraven, +came also, paying a last tearless tribute to the +noble dead.</p> + +<p>When it was all over and the post had settled +down to routine, the factor found in his mail, +one morning, a long letter from the Chief +Commissioner at Winnipeg. It told the factor +that he was in bad repute, that the English +Church bishop had been grieved, shocked, and +scandalized through seeing the hitherto respectable +factor going over to the Catholics. +Not only had he fraternized with them, but +had actually taken part in their religious ceremonies. +And to crown it all, he had carried, a +respectable Cree and the Chinese cook along +with him.</p> + +<p>The factor's placid face took on a deep hue, +but only for a moment. He filled his pipe, +poking the tobacco down hard with his thumb. +Then he took the Commissioner's letter, twisted +it up, touched it to the tiny fire that blazed in +the grate, and lighted his pipe. He smoked in +silence for a few moments and then said to +himself, being alone, "Huh!"</p> + +<p>"Ah, that from the bishop reminds me," said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +the factor. "I must run over and see the other +one."</p> + +<p>When the factor had related to the French-Canadian +bishop what had passed between the +dead curé and himself, the bishop seemed +greatly annoyed. "Why, man, he had no +mother!"</p> + +<p>"The devil he didn't—I beg pardon—I say +he asked me to send this to his mother. He +started to tell me where she lived and then the call +came. It was the dying request of a dear friend. +I beg of you tell me his mother's name, that +I may keep my word."</p> + +<p>"It is impossible, my son. When he came +into the church he left the world. He was +bound by the law of the church to give up father, +mother, sister, brother—all."</p> + +<p>"The church be—do you mean to say—"</p> + +<p>"Peace, my son, you do not understand," +said the bishop, lifting the little cross which he +had taken gently from the factor at the beginning +of the interview.</p> + +<p>Now the factor was not in the habit of having +his requests ignored and his judgment +questioned.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Do you mean to say you will <i>not</i> give me the +name and address of the dead man's mother?"</p> + +<p>"It's absolutely impossible. Moreover, I am +shocked to learn that our late brother could so +far forget his duty at the very door of death. +No, son, a thousand times no," said the bishop.</p> + +<p>"Then give me the crucifix!" demanded the +factor, fiercely.</p> + +<p>"That, too, is impossible; that is the property +of the church."</p> + +<p>"Well," said the factor, filling his pipe again +and gazing into the flickering fire, "they're +all about the same. And they're all right, too, +I presume—all but Wing and Dunraven and +me."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MYSTERIOUS_SIGNAL" id="THE_MYSTERIOUS_SIGNAL"></a>THE MYSTERIOUS SIGNAL</h2> + + +<p>As Waterloo lingered in the memory of the +conquered Corsican, so Ashtabula was +burned into the brain of Bradish. Out of that +awful wreck he crawled, widowed and childless. +For a long time he did not realize, for his head +was hurt in that frightful crash.</p> + +<p>By the time he was fit to leave the hospital +they had told him, little by little, that all his +people had perished.</p> + +<p>He made his way to the West, where he had a +good home and houses to rent and a hole in the +hillside that was just then being changed from +a prospect to a mine.</p> + +<p>The townspeople, who had heard of the disaster, +waited for him to speak of it—but he +never did. The neighbors nodded, and he nodded +to them and passed on about his business. +The old servant came and asked if she should +open the house, and he nodded. The man-servant—the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +woman's husband—came also, +and to him Bradish nodded; and at noon he +had luncheon alone in the fine new house that +had just been completed a year before the +catastrophe.</p> + +<p>About once a week Bradish would board the +midnight express, ride down the line for a few +hundred miles, and double back.</p> + +<p>When he went away they knew he had gone, +and when he came back they knew he had returned +and that was as much as his house-keeper, +his agent, or the foreman at the mines +could tell you.</p> + +<p>One would have thought that the haunting +memory of Ashtabula would have kept him at +home for the rest of his life; but he seemed to +travel for the sake of the ride only, or for no +reason, as a deaf man walks on the railroad-track.</p> + +<p>Gradually he extended his trips, taking the +Midland over into Utah; and once or twice he +had been seen on the rear end of the California +Limited as it dropped down the western water-shed +of Raton Range.</p> + +<p>One night, when the Limited was lapping up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +the landscape and the Desert was rushing in +under her pilot and streaking out below the last +sleeper like tape from a ticker, the danger signal +sounded in the engine cab, the air went on +full, the passengers braced themselves against +the seats in front of them, or held their breath +in their berths as the train came to a dead +stop.</p> + +<p>The conductor and the head man hurried forward +shouting, "What's the matter?" to the +engineer.</p> + +<p>The driver, leaning from his lofty window, +asked angrily, "What in thunder's the matter +with you? I got a stop signal from behind."</p> + +<p>"You'd better lay off and have a good sleep," +said the conductor.</p> + +<p>"I'll put you to sleep for a minute if you ever +hint that I was not awake coming down Cañon +Diablo," shouted the engineer, releasing his +brakes. As the long, heavy train glided by, the +trainmen swung up like sailors, and away went +the Limited over the long bridge, five minutes +to the bad.</p> + +<p>A month later the same thing happened on +the East end. The engineer was signalled and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +stopped on a curve with the point of his pilot on +a high bridge.</p> + +<p>This time the captain and the engineer were +not so brittle of temper. They discussed the +matter, calling on the fireman, who had heard +nothing, being busy in the coal-tank.</p> + +<p>The head brakeman, crossing himself, said it +was the "unseen hand" that had been stopping +the Limited on the Desert. It might be a +warning, he said, and walked briskly out on the +bridge looking for dynamite, ghosts, and things.</p> + +<p>When he had reached the other end of the +bridge, he gave the go-ahead signal and the train +pulled out. As they had lost seven minutes, it +was necessary for the conductor to report "cause +of delay;" and that was the first hint the officials +of any of the Western lines had of the "unseen +hand."</p> + +<p>Presently trainmen, swapping yarns at division +stations, heard of the mysterious signal on other +roads.</p> + +<p>The Columbia Limited, over on the Short +Line, was choked with her head over Snake River, +at the very edge of Pendleton. When they had +pulled in and a fresh crew had taken the train<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +on, the in-coming captain and his daring driver +argued over the incident and they each got ten +days,—not for the delay, but because they could +not see to sign the call-book next morning and +were not fit to be seen by other people.</p> + +<p>The next train stopped was the International +Limited on the Grand Trunk, then the Sunset +by the South Coast.</p> + +<p>The strange phenomenon became so general +that officials lost patience. One road issued an +order to the effect that any engineer who heard +signals when there were no signals should get +thirty days for the first and his time for the +second offence.</p> + +<p>Within a week from the appearance of the unusual +and unusually offensive bulletin, "Baldy" +Hooten heard the stop signal as he neared a +little Junction town where his line crossed another +on an overhead bridge.</p> + +<p>When the signal sounded, the fireman glanced +over at the driver, who dived through the window +up to his hip pockets.</p> + +<p>When the engine had crashed over the bridge, +the driver pulled himself into the cab again, and +once more the signal. The fireman, amazed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +stared at the engineer. The latter jerked the +throttle wide open; seeing which, the stoker +dropped to the deck and began feeding the +hungry furnace. Ten minutes later the Limited +screamed for a regular stop, ten miles down the +line. As the driver dropped to the ground and +began touching the pins and links with the back +of his bare hand, to see if they were all cool, +the head brakeman trotted forward whispering +hoarsely, "The ol' man's aboard."</p> + +<p>The driver waved him aside with his flaring +torch, and up trotted the blue-and-gold conductor +with his little silver white-light with a +frosted flue. "Why didn't you stop at Pee-Wee +Junction?" he hissed.</p> + +<p>"Is Pee-Wee a stop station?"</p> + +<p>"On signal."</p> + +<p>"I didn't see no sign."</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> pulled the bell."</p> + +<p>"Go on now, you ghost-dancer," said the +engineer.</p> + +<p>"You idiot!" gasped the exasperated conductor. +"Don't you know the old man's on, +that he wanted to stop at Pee-Wee to meet the +G.M. this morning, that a whole engineering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> +outfit will be idle there for half a day, and you'll +get the guillotine?"</p> + +<p>"Whew, you have <i>shore</i> got 'em."</p> + +<p>"Isn't your bell working?" asked a big man +who had joined the group under the cab window.</p> + +<p>"I think so, sir," said the driver, as he recognized +the superintendent. "Johnny, try that +cab bell," he shouted, and the fire-boy sounded +the big brass gong.</p> + +<p>"Why didn't you take it at Pee-Wee?" asked +the old man, holding his temper beautifully.</p> + +<p>The driver lifted his torch and stared almost +rudely into the face of the official in front of him. +"Why, Mr. Skidum," said he slowly, "I didn't +hear no signal."</p> + +<p>The superintendent was blocked.</p> + +<p>As he turned and followed the conductor into +the telegraph office, the driver, gloating in his +high tower of a cab, watched him.</p> + +<p>"He's an old darling," said he to the fire-boy, +"and I'm ready to die for him any day; but I +can't stop for him in the face of bulletin 13. +Thirty days for the first offence, and then fire," +he quoted, as he opened the throttle and steamed +away, four minutes late.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old man drummed on the counter-top in +the telegraph office, and then picked up a pad +and wrote a wire to his assistant:—</p> + +<p>"Cancel general order No. 13."</p> + +<p>The night man slipped out in the dawn and +called the day man who was the station master, +explaining that the old man was at the station +and evidently unhappy.</p> + +<p>The agent came on unusually early and endeavored +to arrange for a light engine to carry +the superintendent back to the Junction.</p> + +<p>At the end of three hours they had a freight +engine that had left its train on a siding thirty +miles away and rolled up to rescue the stranded +superintendent.</p> + +<p>Now, every railway man knows that when one +thing goes wrong on a railroad, two more mishaps +are sure to follow; so, when the rescuing crew +heard over the wire that the train they had left +on a siding, having been butted by another train +heading in, had started back down grade, spilled +over at the lower switch, and blocked the main +line, they began to expect something to happen +at home.</p> + +<p>However, the driver had to go when the old<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> +man was in the cab and the G.M. with a whole +army of engineers and workmen waiting for him +at Pee-Wee; so he rattled over the switches and +swung out on the main line like a man who was +not afraid.</p> + +<p>Two miles up the road the light engine, +screaming through a cut, encountered a flock of +sheep, wallowed through them, left the track, +and slammed the four men on board up against +the side of the cut.</p> + +<p>Not a bone was broken, though all of them +were sore shaken, the engineer being unconscious +when picked up.</p> + +<p>"Go back and report," said the old man to +the conductor. "You look after the engineer," +to the fireman.</p> + +<p>"Will you flag west, sir?" asked the conductor.</p> + +<p>"Yes,—I'll flag into Pee-Wee," said the old +man, limping down the line.</p> + +<p>To be sure, the superintendent was an intelligent +man and not the least bit superstitious; but +he couldn't help, as he limped along, connecting +these disasters, remotely at least, with general +order No. 13.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + +<p>In time the "unseen signal" came to be talked +of by the officials as well as by train and enginemen. +It came up finally at the annual convention +of General Passenger Agents at Chicago +and was discussed by the engineers at Atlanta, +but was always ridiculed by the eastern element.</p> + +<p>"I helped build the U.P.," said a Buffalo +man, "and I want to tell you high-liners you +can't drink squirrel-whiskey at timber-line without +seein' things nights."</p> + +<p>That ended the discussion.</p> + +<p>Probably no road in the country suffered from +the evil effects of the mysterious signal as did +the Inter-Mountain Air Line.</p> + +<p>The regular spotters failed to find out, and the +management sent to Chicago for a real live detective +who would not be predisposed to accept +the "mystery" as such, but would do his utmost +to find the cause of a phenomenon that +was not only interrupting traffic but demoralizing +the whole service.</p> + +<p>As the express trains were almost invariably +stopped at night, the expert travelled at night +and slept by day. Months passed with only two +or three "signals." These happened to be on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +the train opposed to the one in which the detective +was travelling at that moment. They +brought out another man, and on his first trip, +taken merely to "learn the road," the train was +stopped in broad daylight. This time the stop +proved to be a lucky one; for, as the engineer let +off the air and slipped round a curve in a cañon, +he found a rock as big as a box car resting on +the track.</p> + +<p>The detective was unable to say who sounded +the signal. The train crew were overawed. +They would not even discuss the matter.</p> + +<p>With a watchman, unknown to the trainmen, +on every train, the officials hoped now to solve +the mystery in a very short time.</p> + +<p>The old engineer, McNally, who had found +the rock in the cañon, had boasted in the lodge-room, +in the round-house and out, that if ever +he got the "ghost-sign," he'd let her go. Of +course he was off his guard this time. He had +not expected the "spook-stop" in open day. +And right glad he was, too, that he stopped +<i>that</i> day.</p> + +<p>A fortnight later McNally, on the night run, +was going down Crooked Creek Cañon watching<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +the fireworks in the heavens. A black cloud +hung on a high peak, and where its sable skirts +trailed along the range the lightning leaped and +flashed in sheets and chains. Above the roar +of wheels he could hear the splash, and once +in a while he could feel the spray, of new-made +cataracts as the water rushed down the mountain +side, choking the culverts.</p> + +<p>At Crag View there was, at that time, a high +wooden trestle stilted up on spliced spruce piles +with the bark on.</p> + +<p>It used to creak and crack under the engine +when it was new. McNally was nearing it now. +It lay, however, just below a deep rock cut +that had been made in a mountain crag and +beyond a sharp curve.</p> + +<p>McNally leaned from his cab window, and +when the lightning flashed, saw that the cut +was clear of rock and released the brakes slightly +to allow the long train to slip through the reverse +curve at the bridge. Curves cramp a train, +and a smooth runner likes to feel them glide +smoothly.</p> + +<p>As the black locomotive poked her nose +through the cut, the engineer leaned out again;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +but the after-effect of the flash of lightning left +the world in inky blackness.</p> + +<p>Back in a darkened corner of the drawing-room +of the rearmost sleeper the sleuth snored +with both eyes and ears open.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he saw a man, fully dressed, leap +from a lower berth in the last section and make +a grab for the bell-rope. The man missed the +rope; and before he could leap again the detective +landed on the back of his neck, bearing him +down. At that moment the conductor came +through; and when he saw the detective pull a +pair of bracelets from his hip-pocket, he guessed +that the man underneath must be wanted, and +joined in the scuffle. In a moment the man +was handcuffed, for he really offered no resistance. +As they released him he rose, and they +squashed him into a seat opposite the section +from which he had leaped a moment before. +The man looked not at his captors, who still held +him, but pressed his face against the window. +He saw the posts of the snow-shed passing, +sprang up, flung the two men from him as a +Newfoundland would free himself from a couple +of kittens, lifted his manacled hands, leaped<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +toward the ceiling, and bore down on the signal-rope.</p> + +<p>The conductor, in the excitement, yelled at +the man, bringing the rear brakeman from the +smoking-room, followed by the black boy bearing +a shoe-brush.</p> + +<p>Once more they bore the bad man down, and +then the conductor grabbed the rope and signalled +the engineer ahead.</p> + +<p>Men leaped from their berths, and women +showed white faces between the closely drawn +curtains.</p> + +<p>Once more the conductor pulled the bell, but +the train stood still.</p> + +<p>One of the passengers picked up the man's +hand-grip that had fallen from his berth, and +found that the card held in the leather tag read:</p> + +<p> + "<span class="smcap">John Bradish</span>."<br /> +</p> + +<p>"Go forward," shouted the conductor to the +rear brakeman, "and get 'em out of here,—tell +McNally we've got the ghost."</p> + +<p>The detective released his hold on his captive, +and the man sank limp in the corner seat.</p> + +<p>The company's surgeon, who happened to be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +on the car, came over and examined the prisoner. +The man had collapsed completely.</p> + +<p>When the doctor had revived the handcuffed +passenger and got him to sit up and speak, the +porter, wild-eyed, burst in and shouted: "De +bridge is gone."</p> + +<p>A death-like hush held the occupants of the +car.</p> + +<p>"De hangin' bridge is sho' gone," repeated +the panting porter, "an' de engine, wi' McNally +in de cab's crouchin' on de bank, like a black +cat on a well-cu'b. De watah's roahin' in de +deep gorge, and if she drap she gwine drag—"</p> + +<p>The doctor clapped his hand over the frightened +darky's mouth, and the detective butted +him out to the smoking-room.</p> + +<p>The conductor explained that the porter was +crazy, and so averted a panic.</p> + +<p>The detective came back and faced the doctor. +"Take off the irons," said the surgeon, +and the detective unlocked the handcuffs.</p> + +<p>Now the doctor, in his suave, sympathetic +way, began to question Bradish; and Bradish began +to unravel the mystery, pausing now and +again to rest, for the ordeal through which he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +had just passed had been a great mental and +nervous strain.</p> + +<p>He began by relating the Ashtabula accident +that had left him wifeless and childless, and, as +the story progressed, seemed to find infinite relief +in relating the sad tale of his lonely life. It +was like a confession. Moreover, he had kept +the secret so long locked in his troubled breast +that it was good to pour it out.</p> + +<p>The doctor sat directly in front of the narrator, +the detective beside him, while interested +passengers hung over the backs of seats and +blocked the narrow aisle. Women, with faces +still blanched, sat up in bed listening breathlessly +to the strange story of John Bradish.</p> + +<p>Shortly after returning to their old home, he +related, he was awakened one night by the voice +of his wife calling in agonized tones, "John! +John!" precisely as she had cried to him through +the smoke and steam and twisted débris at Ashtabula. +He leaped from his bed, heard a mighty +roar, saw a great light flash on his window, and +the midnight express crashed by.</p> + +<p>To be sure it was only a dream, he said to +himself, intensified by the roar of the approaching<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +train; and yet he could sleep no more +that night. Try as he would, he could not forget +it; and soon he realized that a growing desire to +travel was coming upon him. In two or three +days' time this desire had become irresistible. +He boarded the midnight train and took a ride. +But this did not cure him. In fact, the more he +travelled the more he wanted to travel. Soon +after this he discovered that he had acquired +another habit. He wanted to stop the train. +Against these inclinations he had struggled, but +to no purpose. Once, when he felt that he +must take a trip, he undressed and went to bed. +He fell asleep, and slept soundly until he heard +the whistle of the midnight train. Instantly he +was out of bed, and by the time they had changed +engines he was at the station ready to go.</p> + +<p>The mania for stopping trains had been equally +irresistible. He would bite his lips, his fingers, +but he would also stop the train.</p> + +<p>The moment the mischief (for such it was, in +nearly every instance) was done, he would suffer +greatly in dread of being found out. But to-night, +as on the occasion of the daylight stop in +the cañon, he had no warning, no opportunity<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +to check himself, nor any desire to do so. In +each instance he had heard, dozing in the day-coach +and sleeping soundly in his berth, the +voice cry: "John! John!" and instantly his brain +was ablaze with the light of burning wreckage. +In the cañon he had only felt, indefinitely, the +danger ahead; but to-night he saw the bridge +swept away, and the dark gorge that yawned in +front of them. Instantly upon hearing the cry +that woke him, he saw it all.</p> + +<p>"When I realized that the train was still moving, +that my first effort to stop had failed, I flung +these strong men from me with the greatest ease. +I'm sure I should have burst those steel bands +that bound my wrists if it had been necessary.</p> + +<p>"Thank God it's all over. I feel now that I +am cured,—that I can settle down contented."</p> + +<p>The man drew a handkerchief from his pocket +and wiped his forehead, keeping his face to the +window for a long time.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When the conductor went forward, he found +that it was as the porter had pictured. The high +bridge had been carried away by a water-spout; +and on the edge of the opening the engine<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +trembled, her pilot pointing out over the black +abyss.</p> + +<p>McNally, having driven his fireman from the +deck, stood in the cab gripping the air-lever and +watching the pump. At that time we used what +is technically known as "straight air"; so that if +the pump stopped the air played out.</p> + +<p>The conductor ordered the passengers to leave +the train.</p> + +<p>The rain had ceased, but the lightning was +still playing about the summit of the range, and +when it flashed, those who had gone forward +saw McNally standing at his open window, looking +as grand and heroic as the captain on the +bridge of his sinking ship.</p> + +<p>A nervous and somewhat thoughtless person +came close under the cab to ask the engineer +why he didn't back up.</p> + +<p>There was no answer. McNally thought it +must be obvious to a man with the intelligence +of an oyster, that to release the brakes would be +to let the heavy train shove him over the bank, +even if his engine had the power to back up, +which she had not.</p> + +<p>The trainmen were working quietly, but very<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +effectively, unloading. The day coaches had +been emptied, the hand-brakes set, and all the +wheels blocked with links and pins and stones, +when the link between the engine and the mail-car +snapped and the engine moved forward.</p> + +<p>McNally heard the snap and felt her going, +leaped from the window, caught and held a scrub +cedar that grew in a rock crevice, and saw his +black steed plunge down the dark cañon, a sheer +two thousand feet.</p> + +<p>McNally had been holding her in the back +motion with steam in her cylinders; and now, +when she leaped out into space, her throttle flew +wide, a knot in the whistle-rope caught in the +throttle, opening the whistle-valve as well. Down, +down she plunged,—her wheels whirling in mid-air, +a solid stream of fire escaping from her +quivering stack, and from her throat a shriek +that almost froze the blood in the veins of the +onlookers. Fainter and farther came the cry, +until at last the wild waters caught her, held her, +hushed her, and smothered out her life.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHASING_THE_WHITE_MAIL" id="CHASING_THE_WHITE_MAIL"></a>CHASING THE WHITE MAIL</h2> + + +<p>Over the walnuts and wine, as they say in +Fifth Avenue, the gray-haired gentleman +and I lingered long after the last of the diners +had left the café car. One by one the lights +were lowered. Some of the table-stewards had +removed their duck and donned their street +clothes. The shades were closely drawn, so that +people could not peep in when the train was +standing. The chief steward was swinging his +punch on his finger and yawning. My venerable +friend, who was a veritable author's angel, was a +retired railway president with plenty of time to +talk.</p> + +<p>"We had, on the Vandalia," he began after +lighting a fresh cigar, "a dare-devil driver named +Hubbard—'Yank' Hubbard they called him. +He was a first-class mechanic, sober and industrious, +but notoriously reckless, though he had +never had a wreck. The Superintendent of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +Motive Power had selected him for the post of +master-mechanic at Effingham, but I had held +him up on account of his bad reputation as a +wild rider.</p> + +<p>"We had been having a lot of trouble with California +fruit trains,—delays, wrecks, cars looted +while in the ditch,—and I had made the delay +of a fruit train almost a capital offence. The +bulletin was, I presume, rather severe, and the +enginemen and conductors were not taking it +very well.</p> + +<p>"One night the White Mail was standing at +the station at East St. Louis (that was before the +first bridge was built) loading to leave. My car +was on behind, and I was walking up and down +having a good smoke. As I turned near the engine, +I stopped to watch the driver of the White +Mail pour oil in the shallow holes on the link-lifters +without wasting a drop. He was on the +opposite side of the engine, and I could see only +his flitting, flickering torch and the dipping, +bobbing spout of his oiler.</p> + +<p>"A man, manifestly another engineer, came +up. The Mail driver lifted his torch and said, +'Hello, Yank,' to which the new-comer made<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> +no direct response. He seemed to have something +on his mind. 'What are you out on?' +asked the engineer, glancing at the other's overalls. +'Fast freight—perishable—must make +time—no excuse will be taken,' he snapped, +quoting and misquoting from my severe circular. +'Who's in that Kaskaskia?' he asked, stepping +up close to the man with the torch.</p> + +<p>"'The ol' man,' said the engineer.</p> + +<p>"'No! ol' man, eh? Well! I'll give him a +canter for his currency this trip,' said Yank, +gloating. 'I'll follow him like a scandal; I'll +stay with him this night like the odor of a hot +box. Say, Jimmie,' he laughed, 'when that +tintype of yours begins to lay down on you, +just bear in mind that my pilot is under the ol' +man's rear brake-beam, and that the headlight of +the 99 is haunting him.'</p> + +<p>"'Don't get gay, now,' said the engineer of +the White Mail.</p> + +<p>"'Oh, I'll make him think California fruit is +not all that's perishable on the road to-night,' +said Yank, hurrying away to the round-house.</p> + +<p>"Just as we were about to pull out, our engineer, +who was brother to Yank, found a broken<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> +frame and was obliged to go to the house for +another locomotive. We were an hour late +when we left that night, carrying signals for the +fast freight. As we left the limits of the yard, +Hubbard's headlight swung out on the main line, +picked up two slender shafts of silver, and shot +them under our rear end. The first eight or ten +miles were nearly level. I sat and watched the +headlight of the fast freight. He seemed to be +keeping his interval until we hit the hill at +Collinsville. There was hard pounding then for +him for five or six miles. Just as the Kaskaskia +dropped from the ridge between the east and +west Silver Creek, the haunting light swept round +the curve at Hagler's tank. I thought he must +surely take water here; but he plunged on down +the hill, coming to the surface a few minutes +later on the high prairie east of Saint Jacobs.</p> + +<p>"Highland, thirty miles out, was our first +stop. We took water there; and before we could +get away from the tank, Hubbard had his twin +shafts of silver under my car. We got a good +start here, but our catch engine proved to be +badly coaled and a poor steamer. Up to this +time she had done fairly well, but after the first<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +two hours she began to lose. Seeing no more +of the freight train, I turned in, not a little pleased +to think that Mr. Yank's headlight would not +haunt me again that trip. I fell asleep, but woke +again when the train stopped, probably at Vandalia. +I had just begun to doze again when our +engine let out a frightful scream for brakes. I +knew what that meant,—Hubbard was behind +us. I let my shade go up, and saw the light of +the freight train shining past me and lighting up +the water-tank. I was getting a bit nervous, +when I felt our train pulling out.</p> + +<p>"Of course Hubbard had to water again; but +as he had only fifteen loads, and a bigger tank, +he could go as far as the Mail could without +stopping. Moreover, we were bound to stop at +county seats; and as often as we did so we had +the life scared out of us, for there was not an +air-brake freight car on the system at that time. +What a night that must have been for the freight +crew! They were on top constantly, but I +believe the beggars enjoyed it all. Any conductor +but Jim Lawn would have stopped and +reported the engineer at the first telegraph +station. Still, I have always had an idea that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +the train-master was tacitly in the conspiracy, +for his bulletin had been a hot one delivered +orally by the Superintendent, whom I had +seen personally.</p> + +<p>"Well, along about midnight Hubbard's headlight +got so close, and kept so close, that I could +not sleep. His brother, who was pulling the +Mail, avoided whistling him down; for when he +did he only showed that there <i>was</i> danger, and +published his bad brother's recklessness. The +result was that when the Mail screamed I invariably +braced myself. I don't believe I should +have stood it, only I felt it would all be over +in another hour; for we should lose Yank at +Effingham, the end of the freight's division. It +happened, however, that there was no one to +relieve him, or no engine rather; and Yank went +through to Terre Haute. I was sorry, but I +hated to show the white feather. I knew our +fresh engine would lose him, with his tired fireman +and dirty fire. Once or twice I saw his +lamp, but at Longpoint we lost him for good. +I went to bed again, but I could not sleep. I +used to boast that I could sleep in a boiler-maker's +shop; but the long dread of that fellow's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +pilot had unnerved me. I had wild, distressing +dreams.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"The next morning, when I got to my office, +I found a column of news cut from a morning +paper. It had the usual scare-head, and began +by announcing that the White Mail, with General +Manager Blank's car Kaskaskia, came in on +time, carrying signals for a freight train. The second +section had not arrived, 'as we go to press.' +I think I swore softly at that point. Then I +read on, for there was a lot more. It seemed, +the paper stated, that a gang of highwaymen +had planned to rob the Mail at Longpoint, +which had come to be regarded as a regular +robber station. One of the robbers, being +familiar with train rules, saw the signal lights +on the Mail and mistook it for a special, which +is often run as first section of a fast train, and +they let it pass. They flagged the freight train, +and one of the robbers, who was doubtless new +at the business, caught the passing engine and +climbed into the cab. The engineer, seeing +the man's masked face at his elbow, struck it a +fearful blow with his great fist. The amateur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +desperado sank to the floor, his big, murderous +gun rattling on the iron plate of the coal-deck. +Yank, the engineer, grabbed the gun, whistled +off-brakes, and opened the throttle. The sudden +lurch forward proved too much for a weak link, +and the train parted, leaving the rest of the +robbers and the train crew to fight it out. As +soon as the engineer discovered that the train +had parted, he slowed down and stopped.</p> + +<p>"When he had picketed the highwayman out +on the tank-deck with a piece of bell-cord, one +end of which was fixed to the fellow's left foot +and the other to the whistle lever, Yank set his +fireman, with a white light and the robber's gun, +on the rear car and flagged back to the rescue. +The robbers, seeing the blunder they had made, +took a few parting shots at the trainmen on the +top of the train, mounted their horses, and rode +away.</p> + +<p>"When the train had coupled up again, they +pulled on up to the next station, where the conductor +reported the cause of delay, and from +which station the account of the attempted robbery +had been wired.</p> + +<p>"I put the paper down and walked over to a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> +window that overlooked the yards. The second +section of the White Mail was coming in. As +the engine rolled past, Yank looked up; and there +was a devilish grin on his black face. The fireman +was sitting on the fireman's seat, the gun +across his lap. A young fellow, wearing a long +black coat, a bell-rope, and a scared look, was +sweeping up the deck.</p> + +<p>"When I returned to my desk, the Superintendent +of Motive Power was standing near it. +When I sat down, he spread a paper before me. +I glanced at it and recognized Yank Hubbard's +appointment to the post of master-mechanic at +Effingham.</p> + +<p>"I dipped a pen in the ink-well and wrote +across it in red, 'O—K.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="OPPRESSING_THE_OPPRESSOR" id="OPPRESSING_THE_OPPRESSOR"></a>OPPRESSING THE OPPRESSOR</h2> + + +<p>"Is this the President's office?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"Can I see the President?"</p> + +<p>"Yes,—I'm the President."</p> + +<p>The visitor placed one big boot in a chair, +hung his soft hat on his knee, dropped his elbow +on the hat, let his chin fall in the hollow of his +hand, and waited.</p> + +<p>The President of the Santa Fé, leaning over a +flat-topped table, wrote leisurely. When he had +finished, he turned a kindly face to the visitor +and asked what could be done.</p> + +<p>"My name's Jones."</p> + +<p>"Yes?"</p> + +<p>"I presume you know about me,—Buffalo +Jones, of Garden City."</p> + +<p>"Well," began the President, "I know a lot +of Joneses, but where is Garden City?"</p> + +<p>"Down the road a piece, 'bout half-way between +Wakefield and Turner's Tank. I want<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> +you folks to put in a switch there,—that's what +I've come about. I'd like to have it in this +week."</p> + +<p>"Anybody living at Garden City?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, all that's there's livin'."</p> + +<p>"About how many?"</p> + +<p>"One and a half when I'm away,—Swede +and Injin."</p> + +<p>The President of the Santa Fé smiled and +rolled his lead pencil between the palms of his +hands. Mr. Jones watched him and pitied him, +as one watches and pities a child who is fooling +with firearms. "He don't know I'm loaded," +thought Jones.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the President, "when you get +your town started so that there will be some +prospect of getting a little business, we shall be +only too glad to put in a spur for you."</p> + +<p>Jones had been looking out through an open +window, watching the law-makers of Kansas +going up the wide steps of the State House. The +fellows from the farm climbed, the town fellows +ran up the steps.</p> + +<p>"Spur!" said Jones, wheeling around from +the window and walking toward the President's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> +desk, "I don't want no spur; I want a side +track that'll hold fifty cars, and I want it this +week,—see?"</p> + +<p>"Now look here, Mr. Jones, this is sheer +nonsense. We get wind at Wakefield and water +at Turner's Tank; now, what excuse is there +for putting in a siding half-way between these +places?"</p> + +<p>Again Mr. Jones, rubbing the point of his +chin with the ball of his thumb, gave the President +a pitying glance.</p> + +<p>"Say!" said Jones, resting the points of his +long fingers on the table, "I'm goin' to build a +town. You're goin' to build a side track. I've +already set aside ten acres of land for you, for +depot and yards. This land will cost you fifty +dollars per, <i>now</i>. If I have to come back about +this side track, it'll cost you a hundred. Now, +Mr. President, I wish you good-mornin'."</p> + +<p>At the door Jones paused and looked back. +"Any time this week will do; good-mornin'."</p> + +<p>The President smiled and turned to his desk. +Presently he smiled again; then he forgot all +about Mr. Jones and the new town, and went on +with his work.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> + +<p>Mr. Jones went down and out and over to the +House to watch the men make laws.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>In nearly every community, about every +capital, State or National, you will find men who +are capable of being influenced. This is especially +true of new communities through which a +railway is being built. It has always been so, +and will be, so long as time expires. I mean +the time of an annual pass. It is not surprising, +then, that in Kansas at that time, the Grasshopper +period,—before prohibition, Mrs. Nation, +and religious dailies,—the company had its +friends, and that Mr. Jones, an honest farmer +with money to spend, had his.</p> + +<p>Two or three days after the interview with Mr. +Jones, the President's "friend" came over to +the railroad building. He came in quietly and +seated himself near the President, as a doctor +enters a sick-room or a lawyer a prison cell. "I +know you don't want me," he seemed to say, +"but you need me."</p> + +<p>When his victim had put down his pen, +the politician asked, "Have you seen Buffalo +Jones?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> + +<p>The President said he had seen the gentleman.</p> + +<p>"I think it would be a good scheme to give +him what he wants," said the Honorable member +of the State legislature.</p> + +<p>But the President could not agree with his +friend; and at the end of half an hour, the +Honorable member went away not altogether +satisfied. He did not relish the idea of the +President trying to run the road without his +assistance. One of the chief excuses for his +presence on earth and in the State legislature +was "to take care of the road." Now, he had +gotten up early in order to see the President +without being seen, and the President had +waved him aside. "Well," he said, "I'll let +Jones have the field to-day."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Two days later, when the President opened +his desk, he found a brief note from his confidential +assistant,—not the Honorable one, but +an ordinary man who worked for the company +for a stated salary. The note read:—</p> + +<p>"If Buffalo Jones calls to-day please see him.—I +am leaving town. G.O.M."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p> + +<p>But Buffalo did not call.</p> + +<p>Presently the General Manager came in, and +when he was leaving the room he turned and +asked, "Have you seen Jones?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the President of the Santa Fé, +"I've seen Jones."</p> + +<p>The General Manager was glad, for that took +the matter from his hands and took the responsibility +from his drooping shoulders.</p> + +<p>About the time the President got his mind +fixed upon the affairs of the road again, Colonel +Holiday came in. Like the Honorable gentleman, +he too entered by the private door unannounced; +for he was the Father of the Santa +Fé. Placing his high hat top side down on +the table, the Colonel folded his hands over the +golden head of his cane and inquired of the +President if he had seen Jones.</p> + +<p>The President assured the Colonel, who in +addition to being the Father of the road was a +director.</p> + +<p>The Colonel picked up his hat and went out, +feeling considerable relief: for <i>his</i> friend in the +State Senate had informed him at the Ananias +Club on the previous evening, that Jones was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +going to make trouble for the road. The Colonel +knew that a good, virtuous man with money +to spend could make trouble for anything or anybody, +working quietly and unobtrusively among +the equally virtuous members of the State legislature. +The Colonel had been a member of +that august body.</p> + +<p>In a little while the General Manager came +back; and with him came O'Marity, the road-master.</p> + +<p>"I thought you said you had seen Jones," the +General Manager began.</p> + +<p>Now the President, who was never known to +be really angry, wheeled on his revolving chair.</p> + +<p>"I—<i>have</i>—seen Jones."</p> + +<p>"Well, O'Marity says Jones has not been +'seen.' His friend, who comes down from Atchison +every Sunday night on O'Marity's hand-car, +has been good enough to tell O'Marity just what +has been going on in the House. There must +be some mistake. It seems to me that if this +man Jones had been seen properly, he would +subside. What's the matter with your friend—Ah, +here comes the Honorable gentleman now."</p> + +<p>The President beckoned with his index finger<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> +and his friend came in. Looking him in the eye, +the President asked in a stage whisper: "Have +you—seen—Jones?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir," said the Honorable gentleman. +"I had no authority to see him."</p> + +<p>"It's damphunny," said O'Marity, "if the +President 'ave seen 'im, 'e don't quit."</p> + +<p>"I certainly saw a man called Jones,—Buffalo +Jones of Garden City. He wanted a side track +put in half-way between Wakefield and Turner's +Tank."</p> + +<p>"And you told him, 'Certainly, we'll do it at +once,'" said the General Manager.</p> + +<p>"No," the President replied, "I told him we +would not do it at once, because there was no +business or prospect of business to justify the +expense."</p> + +<p>"Ah—h," said the Manager.</p> + +<p>O'Marity whistled softly.</p> + +<p>The Honorable gentleman smiled, and looked +out through the open window to where the +members of the State legislature were going up +the broad steps to the State House.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Rong," the Manager began, "it is all +a horrible mistake. You have never 'seen'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> +Jones. Not in the sense that we mean. When +you see a politician or a man who herds with politicians, +he is supposed to be yours,—you are +supposed to have acquired a sort of interest in +him,—an interest that is valued so long as the +individual is in sight. You are entitled to his +support and influence, up to, and including +the date on which your influence expires." All +the time the Manager kept jerking his thumb +toward the window that held the Honorable +gentleman, using the President's friend as a living +example of what he was trying to explain.</p> + +<p>"Is Jones a member?"</p> + +<p>"No, Mr. Rong, but he controls a few members. +It is easier, you understand, to acquire +a drove of steers by buying a bunch than by +picking them up here and there, one at a +time."</p> + +<p>"I protest," said the Honorable member, +"against the reference to members of the legislature +as 'cattle.'"</p> + +<p>Neither of the railway men appeared to hear +the protest.</p> + +<p>"I think I understand now," said the President. +"And I wish, Robson, you would take<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> +this matter in hand. I confess that I have no +stomach for such work."</p> + +<p>"Very well," said the Manager. "Please instruct +your—your—" and he jerked his thumb +toward the Honorable gentleman—"your <i>friend</i> +to send Jones to my office."</p> + +<p>The Honorable gentleman went white and +then flushed red, but he waited for no further +orders. As he strode towards the door, Robson, +with a smooth, unruffled brow, but with +a cold smile playing over his handsome face, +with mock courtesy and a wide sweep of his +open hand, waved the visitor through the open +door.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"Mr. Jones wishes to see you," said the chief +clerk.</p> + +<p>"Oh, certainly—show Mr. Jones—Ah, good-morning, +Mr. Jones, glad to see you. How's +Garden City? Going to let us in on the ground +floor, Mr. Rong tells me. Here, now, fire up; +take this big chair and tell me all about your new +town."</p> + +<p>Jones took a cigar cautiously from the box. +When the Manager offered him a match he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> +lighted up gingerly, as though he expected the +thing to blow up.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Jones, as I understand it, you want +a side track put in at once. The matter of +depot and other buildings will wait, but I want +you to promise to let us have at least ten acres +of ground. Perhaps it would be better to transfer +that to us at once. I'll see" (the Manager +pressed a button). "Send the chief engineer to +me, George," as the chief clerk looked in.</p> + +<p>All this time Jones smoked little short puffs, +eyeing the Manager and his own cigar. When +the chief engineer came in he was introduced +to Mr. Jones, the man who was going to give +Kansas the highest boom she had ever had.</p> + +<p>While Jones stood in open-mouthed amazement, +the Manager instructed the engineer to go +to Garden City when it would suit Mr. Jones, +lay out a siding that would hold fifty loads, +and complete the job at the earliest possible +moment.</p> + +<p>"By the way, Mr. Jones, have you got transportation +over our line?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Jones managed to gasp the one word, +"No."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Buz-z-zz," went the bell. "George, make +out an annual for Mr. Jones,—Comp. G.M."</p> + +<p>Jones steadied himself by resting an elbow on +the top of the Manager's desk. The chief engineer +was writing in a little note-book.</p> + +<p>"Now, Mr. Jones—ah, your cigar's out!—how +much is this ten acres to cost us?—a thousand +dollars, I believe you told Mr. Rong."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I did tell him that; but if this is straight +and no jolly, it ain't goin' to cost you a cent."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's a <i>great</i> deal better than most +towns treat us," said the Manager. "Now, Mr. +Jones, you will have to excuse me; I have some +business with the President. Don't fail to look +in on me when you come to town; and rest +assured that the Santa Fé will leave nothing +undone that might help your enterprise."</p> + +<p>With a hearty handshake the Manager, usually +a little frigid and remote, passed out, leaving +Mr. Jones to the tender mercies of the chief +engineer.</p> + +<p>Up to this point there is nothing unusual in +this story. The remarkable part is the fact that +the building of a side track in an open plain +turned out to be good business. In a year's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +time there was a neat station and more sidings. +The town boomed with a rapidity that amazed +even the boomers. To be sure, it had its relapses; +but still, if you look from the window as +the California Limited crashes by, you will see a +pretty little town when you reach the point on +the time-table called</p> + +<p> +<span style="margin-left: 8.5em;">"Garden City."</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_IRON_HORSE_AND_THE_TROLLEY" id="THE_IRON_HORSE_AND_THE_TROLLEY"></a>THE IRON HORSE AND THE TROLLEY</h2> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<p>Two prospectors had three claims in a new +camp in British Columbia, but they had +not the $7.50 to pay for having them recorded. +They told their story to Colonel Topping, author +of "The Yellowstone Park," and the Colonel +advanced the necessary amount. In time the +prospectors returned $5.00 of the loan, and gave +the Colonel one of the claims for the balance, +but more for his kindness to them; for they +reckoned it a bully good prospect. Because +they considered it the best claim in the camp, +they called it Le Roi. Subsequently the Colonel +sold this "King," that had cost him $2.50, +for $30,000.00.</p> + +<p>The new owners of Le Roi stocked the claim; +and for the following two or three years, when +a man owed a debt that he was unwilling to +pay, he paid it in Le Roi stock. If he felt like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> +backing a doubtful horse, he put up a handful of +mining stock to punish the winner. There is in +the history of this interesting mine a story of a +man swapping a lot of Le Roi stock for a burro. +The former owner of the donkey took the stock +and the man it came from into court, declaring +that the paper was worthless, and that he had +been buncoed. As late as 1894, a man who ran +a restaurant offered 40,000 shares of Le Roi +stock for four barrels of Canadian whiskey; but +the whiskey man would not trade that way.</p> + +<p>In the meantime, however, men were working +in the mine; and now they began to ship ore. It +was worth $27.00 a ton, and the stock became +valuable. Scattered over the Northwest were +500,000 shares that were worth $500,000.00. +Nearly all the men who had put money into the +enterprise were Yankees,—mining men from +Spokane, just over the border. These men +began now to pick up all the stray shares that +could be found; and in a little while eight-tenths +of the shares were held by men living south of +the line. At Northport, in Washington, they +built one of the finest smelters in the Northwest, +hauled their ore over there, and smelted it. The<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> +ore was rich in gold and copper. They put in +a 300 horse-power hoisting-engine and a 40-drill +air-compressor,—the largest in Canada,—taking +all the money for these improvements out of the +mine. The thing was a success, and news of it +ran down to Chicago. A party of men with +money started for the new gold fields, but as +they were buying tickets three men rushed in +and took tickets for Seattle. These were mining +men; and those who had bought only to +British Columbia cashed in, asked for transportation +to the coast, and followed the crowd +to the Klondike.</p> + +<p>In that way Le Roi for the moment was +forgotten.</p> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<p>The Lieutenant-Governor of the Northwest +Territories, who had been a journalist and had a +nose for news, heard of the new camp. All the +while men were rushing to the Klondike, for it +is the nature of man to go from home for a +thing that he might secure under his own vine.</p> + +<p>The Governor visited the new camp. A man +named Ross Thompson had staked out a town<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> +at the foot of Le Roi dump and called it Rossland. +The Governor put men to work quietly +in the mine and then went back to his plank +palace at Regina, capital of the Northwest Territories,—to +a capital that looked for all the world +like a Kansas frontier town that had just ceased +to be the county seat. Here for months he +waited, watching the "Imperial Limited" cross +the prairie, receiving delegations of half-breeds +and an occasional report from one of the common +miners in Le Roi. If a capitalist came +seeking a soft place to invest, the Governor +pointed to the West-bound Limited and whispered +in the stranger's ear. To all letters of inquiry +coming from Ottawa or England,—letters +from men who wanted to be told where to dig +for gold,—he answered, "Klondike."</p> + +<p>By and by the Governor went to Rossland +again. The mine, of which he owned not a +single share of stock, was still producing. +When he left Rossland he knew all about the +lower workings, the value and extent of the ore +body.</p> + +<p>By this time nearly all the Le Roi shares were +held by Spokane people. The Governor, having<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> +arranged with a wealthy English syndicate, was +in a position to buy the mine; but the owners +did not seem anxious to sell. Eventually, however, +when he was able to offer them an average +of $7.50 for shares that had cost the holders but +from ten to sixty cents a share, about half of +them were willing to sell; the balance were not. +Now the Governor cared nothing for this "balance" +so long as he could secure a majority,—a +controlling interest in the mine,—for the +English would have it in no other way. A few +thousand scattering shares he had already picked +up, and now, from the faction who were willing +to sell, he secured an option on 242,000 shares, +which, together with the odd shares already +secured, would put his friends in control of the +property.</p> + +<p>As news of the proposed sale got out, the +gorge that was yawning between the two factions +grew wider.</p> + +<p>Finally, when the day arrived for the transfer +to be made, the faction opposed to the sale prepared +to make trouble for those who were selling, +to prevent the moving of the seal of the +company to Canada—in short, to stop the sale.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> +They did not go with guns to the secretary and +keeper of the seal and say, "Bide where ye +be"; but they went into court and swore out +warrants for the arrest of the secretary and those +of the directors who favored the sale, charging +them with conspiracy.</p> + +<p>It was midnight in Spokane.</p> + +<p>A black locomotive, hitched to a dark day-coach, +stood in front of the Great Northern +station. The dim light of the gauge lamp +showed two nodding figures in the cab. Out +on the platform a man walked up and down, +keeping an eye on the engine, that was to cost +him a cool $1000.00 for a hundred-mile run. +Presently a man with his coat-collar about his +ears stepped up into the gangway, shook the +driver, and asked him where he was going.</p> + +<p>"Goin' to sleep."</p> + +<p>The man would not be denied, however, and +when he became too pressing, the driver got up +and explained that the cab of his engine was his +castle, and made a move with his right foot.</p> + +<p>"Hold," cried his tormentor, "do you know +that you are about to lay violent hands upon an +officer o' the law?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," said the engineer, "but I'll lay a violent +foot up agin the crown-sheet o' your trousers +if you don't jump."</p> + +<p>The man jumped.</p> + +<p>Now the chief despatcher came from the +station, stole along the shadow side of the car, +and spoke to the man who had ordered the +train.</p> + +<p>A deputy sheriff climbed up on the rear end +of the special, tried the door, shaded his eyes, +and endeavored to look into the car.</p> + +<p>"Have you the running orders?" asked the +man who was paying for the entertainment.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"Let her go, then."</p> + +<p>All this was in a low whisper; and now the +despatcher climbed up on the fireman's side and +pressed a bit of crumpled tissue-paper into the +driver's hand.</p> + +<p>"Pull out over the switches slowly, and when +you are clear of the yards read your orders +an' fly."</p> + +<p>The driver opened the throttle gently, the big +wheels began to revolve, and the next moment +the sheriff and one of his deputies boarded the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> +engine. They demanded to know where that +train was bound for.</p> + +<p>"The train," said the driver, tugging at the +throttle, "is back there at the station. I'm +goin' to the round-house."</p> + +<p>When the sheriff, glancing back, saw that the +coach had been cut off, he swung himself +down.</p> + +<p>"They've gi'n it up," said the deputy.</p> + +<p>"I reckon—what's that?" said the sheriff. +It was the wild, long whistle of the lone black +engine just leaving the yards. The two officers +faced each other and stood listening to the +flutter of the straight stack of the black racer as +she responded to the touch of the erstwhile +drowsy driver, who was at that moment laughing +at the high sheriff, and who would return to tell +of it, and gloat in the streets of Spokane.</p> + +<p>The sheriff knew that three of the men for +whom he held warrants were at Hillier, seven +miles on the way to Canada. This engine, +then, had been sent to pick them up and bear +them away over the border. An electric line +paralleled the steam way to Hillier, and now the +sheriff boarded a trolley and set sail to capture<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> +the engine, leaving one deputy to guard the +special car.</p> + +<p>By the time the engineer got the water worked +out of his cylinders, the trolley was creeping up +beside his tank. He saw the flash from the wire +above as the car, nodding and dipping like a +light boat in the wake of a ferry, shot beneath +the cross-wires, and knew instantly that she was +after him.</p> + +<p>An electric car would not be ploughing through +the gloom at that rate, without a ray of light, +merely for the fun of the thing. A smile of contempt +curled the lip of the driver as he cut the +reverse-lever back to the first notch, put on the +injector, and opened the throttle yet a little wider.</p> + +<p>The two machines were running almost neck +and neck now. The trolley cried, hissed, and +spat fire in her mad effort to pass the locomotive. +A few stray sparks went out of the engine-stack, +and fell upon the roof of the racing car. At intervals +of half a minute the fireman opened the +furnace door; and by the flare of light from +the white-hot fire-box the engine-driver could see +the men on the teetering trolley,—the motor-man, +the conductor, the sheriff, and his deputy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span></p> + +<p>Slowly now the black flier began to slip away +from the electric machine.</p> + +<p>The driver, smiling across the glare of the furnace +door at his silent, sooty companion, touched +the throttle again; and the great engine drew +away from the trolley, as a jack-rabbit who has +been fooling with a yellow dog passes swiftly out +of reach of his silly yelp.</p> + +<p>Now the men on the trolley heard the wild, +triumphant scream of the iron horse whistling +for Hillier. The three directors of Le Roi had +been warned by wire, and were waiting, ready to +board the engine.</p> + +<p>The big wheels had scarcely stopped revolving +when the men began to get on. They had +barely begun to turn again when the trolley +dashed into Hillier. The sheriff leaped to the +ground and came running for the engine. The +wheels slipped; and each passing second brought +the mighty hand of the law, now outstretched, +still nearer to the tail of the tank. She was +moving now, but the sheriff was doing better. +Ten feet separated the pursued and the pursuer. +She slipped again, and the sheriff caught the +corner of the engine-tank. By this time the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> +driver had got the sand running; and now, as +the wheels held the rail, the big engine bounded +forward, almost shaking the sheriff loose. With +each turn of the wheels the speed was increasing. +The sheriff held on; and in three or four seconds +he was taking only about two steps between telegraph +poles, and then—he let go.</p> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<p>While the locomotive and the trolley were +racing across the country the Governor, who was +engineering it all, invested another thousand. +He ordered another engine, and when she backed +onto the coach the deputy sheriff told the driver +that he must not leave the station. The engineer +held his torch high above his head, looked +the deputy over, and then went on oiling his engine. +In the meantime the Governor had stored +his friends away in the dark coach, including the +secretary with the company's great seal. Now +the deputy became uneasy.</p> + +<p>He dared not leave the train to send a wire +to his chief at Hillier, for the sheriff had said, +"Keep your eye on the car."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p> + +<p>The despatcher, whose only interest in the +matter was to run the trains and earn money for +his employer, having given written and verbal +orders to the engineer, watched his chance and, +when the sheriff was pounding on the rear door, +dodged in at the front, signalling with the bell-rope +to the driver to go. Frantically now the +deputy beat upon the rear door of the car, but +the men within only laughed as the wheels rattled +over the last switch and left the lights of Spokane +far behind.</p> + +<p>Away they went over a new and crooked track, +the sand and cinders sucking in round the tail +of the train to torment the luckless deputy. +Away over hills and rills, past Hillier, where +the sheriff still stood staring down the darkness +after the vanishing engine; over switches and +through the Seven Devils, while the unhappy +deputy hung to the rear railing with one hand +and crossed himself.</p> + +<p>Each passing moment brought the racing train +still nearer the border,—to that invisible line +that marks the end of Yankeeland and the beginning +of the British possessions. The sheriff +knew this and beat loudly upon the car door with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> +an iron gun. The Governor let the sash fall at +the top of the door and spoke, or rather yelled, +to the deputy.</p> + +<p>To the Governor's amazement, the sheriff +pushed the bottle aside. Dry and dusty as he +was, he would not drink. He was too mad to +swallow. He poked his head into the dark coach +and ordered the whole party to surrender.</p> + +<p>"Just say what you want," said a voice in +the gloom, "and we'll pass it out to you."</p> + +<p>The sheriff became busy with some curves +and reverse curves now, and made no reply.</p> + +<p>Presently the Governor came to the window +in the rear door again and called up the sheriff.</p> + +<p>"We are now nearing the border," he said to +the man on the platform. "They won't know +you over there. Here you stand for law and +order, and I respect you, though I don't care +to meet you personally; but over the border +you'll only stand for your sentence,—two years +for carrying a cannon on your hip,—and then +they'll take you away to prison."</p> + +<p>The sheriff made no answer.</p> + +<p>"Now we're going to slow down at the line +to about twenty miles an hour, more or less;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> +and if you'll take a little friendly advice, you'll +fall off."</p> + +<p>The train was still running at a furious pace. +The whistle sounded,—one long, wild scream,—and +the speed of the train slackened.</p> + +<p>"Here you are," the Governor called, and the +sheriff stood on the lower step.</p> + +<p>The door opened and the Governor stepped +out on the platform, followed by his companions.</p> + +<p>"I arrest you," the sheriff shouted, "all of +you."</p> + +<p>"But you can't,—you're in British Columbia," +the men laughed.</p> + +<p>"Let go, now," said the Governor, and a +moment later the deputy picked himself up and +limped back over the border.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="IN_THE_BLACK_CANON" id="IN_THE_BLACK_CANON"></a>IN THE BLACK CAÑON</h2> + + +<p>One Christmas, at least, will live long in the +memory of the men and women who +hung up their stockings at La Veta Hotel in +Gunnison in 18—. Ah, those were the best +days of Colorado. Then folks were brave and +true to the traditions of Red Hoss Mountain, +when "money flowed like liquor," and coal +strikes didn't matter, for the people all had +something to burn.</p> + +<p>The Yankee proprietor of the dining-stations +on this mountain line had made them as famous +almost as the Harvey houses on the Santa Fé +were; which praise is pardonable, since the +Limited train with its café car has closed them +all.</p> + +<p>But the best of the bunch was La Veta, and +the presiding genius was Nora O'Neal, the lady +manager. Many an R. & W. excursionist reading +this story will recall her smile, her great<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> +gray eyes, her heaps of dark brown hair, and +the mountain trout that her tables held.</p> + +<p>It will be remembered that at that time the +main lines of the Rio Grande lay by the banks +of the Gunnison, through the Black Cañon, over +Cerro Summit, and down the Uncompaghre +and the Grande to Grand Junction, the gate of +the Utah Desert.</p> + +<p>John Cassidy was an express messenger whose +run was over this route and whose heart and its +secret were in the keeping of Nora O'Neal.</p> + +<p>From day to day, from week to week, he had +waited her answer, which was to come to him +"by Christmas."</p> + +<p>And now, as only two days remained, he +dreaded it, as he had hoped and prayed for it +since the aspen leaves began to gather their +gold. He knew by the troubled look she wore +when off her guard that Nora was thinking.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Most of the men who were gunning in Gunnison +in the early 80's were fearless men, who, +when a difference of opinion arose, faced each +other and fought it out; but there had come to +live at La Veta a thin, quiet, handsome fellow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> +who moved mysteriously in and out of the camp, +slept a lot by day, and showed a fondness for +faro by night. When a name was needed he +signed "Buckingham." His icy hand was soft +and white, and his clothes fitted him faultlessly. +He was handsome, and when he paid his bill at +the end of the fourth week he proposed to Nora +O'Neal. He was so fairer, physically, than +Cassidy and so darker, morally, that Nora could +not make up her mind at all, at all.</p> + +<p>In the shadow time, between sunset and gas-light, +on the afternoon of the last day but one +before Christmas, Buck, as he came to be called, +leaned over the office counter and put a folded +bit of white paper in Nora's hand, saying, as he +closed her fingers over it: "Put this powder in +Cassidy's cup." He knew Cassidy merely as +the messenger whose freight he coveted, and +not as a contestant for Nora's heart and hand,—a +hand he prized, however, as he would a +bob-tailed flush, but no more.</p> + +<p>As for Cassidy, he would be glad, waking, to +find himself alive; and if this plan miscarried, +Buck should be able to side-step the gallows. +Anyway, dope was preferable to death.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span></p> + +<p>Nora opened her hand, and in utter amazement +looked at the paper. Some one interrupted +them. Buck turned away, and Nora +shoved the powder down deep into her jacket +pocket, feeling vaguely guilty.</p> + +<p>No. 7, the Salt Lake Limited, was an hour +late that night. The regular dinner (we called it +supper then) was over when Shanley whistled +in.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>As the headlight of the Rockaway engine +gleamed along the hotel windows, Nora went +back to see that everything was ready.</p> + +<p>In the narrow passage between the kitchen +and the dining-room she met Buckingham. +"What are you doing here?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>"Now, my beauty," said Buck, laying a cold +hand on her arm, "don't be excited."</p> + +<p>She turned her honest eyes to him and he +almost visibly shrank from them, as she had +shuddered at the strange, cold touch of his +hand.</p> + +<p>"Put that powder in Cassidy's cup," he said, +and in the half-light of the little hallway she saw +his cruel smile.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + +<p>"And kill Cassidy, the best friend I have on +earth?"</p> + +<p>"It will not kill him, but it may save his life. +I shall be in his car to-night. Sabe? Do as I +tell you. He will only fall asleep for a little +while, otherwise—well, he may oversleep himself." +She would have passed on, but he stayed +her. "Where is it?" he demanded, with a +meaning glance.</p> + +<p>She touched her jacket pocket, and he released +his hold on her arm.</p> + +<p>The shuffle and scuffle of the feet of hungry +travellers who were piling into the dining-room +had disturbed them. Nora passed on to the rear, +Buck out to sit down and dine with the passengers, +who always had a shade the best of the bill.</p> + +<p>From his favorite seat, facing the audience, he +watched the trainmen tumbling into the alcove +off the west wing, in one corner of which a couple +of Pullman porters in blue and gold sat at a small +table, feeding with their forks and behaving better +than some of their white comrades behaved.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Cassidy came in a moment later, sat down, +and looked over to see if his rival was in his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> +accustomed place. The big messenger looked +steadily at the other man, who had never guessed +the messenger's secret, and the other man +looked down.</p> + +<p>Already his supper, steaming hot, stood before +him, while the table-girl danced attendance for +the tip she was always sure of at the finish. She +studied his tastes and knew his wants, from rare +roast down to the small, black coffee with which +he invariably concluded his meal.</p> + +<p>When Buck looked up again he saw Nora +approach the table, smile at Cassidy, and put a +cup of coffee down by his plate.</p> + +<p>The trainmen were soon through with their +supper, being notoriously rapid feeders,—which +disastrous habit they acquire while on freight, +when they are expected to eat dinner and do +an hour's switching in twenty minutes.</p> + +<p>Unusually early for him, Buck passed out. +Nora purposely avoided him, but watched him +from the unlighted little private office. She saw +him light a cigar and stroll down the long platform. +At the rear of the last Pullman he threw +his cigar away and crossed quickly to the +shadow side of the train. She saw him pass<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> +along, for there were no vestibules then, and +made no doubt he was climbing into Cassidy's +car. As the messenger reached for his change, +the cashier-manager caught his hand, drew it +across the counter, leaned toward him, saying +excitedly: "Be careful to-night, John; don't +fall asleep or nod for a moment. Oh, be careful!" +she repeated, with ever-increasing intensity, +her hot hand trembling on his great wrist; +"be careful, come back safe, and you shall have +your answer."</p> + +<p>When Cassidy came back to earth he was +surrounded by half a dozen good-natured passengers, +men and women, who had come out of +the dining-room during the ten or fifteen seconds +he had spent in Paradise.</p> + +<p>A swift glance at the faces about told him that +they had seen, another at Nora that she was +embarrassed; but in two ticks of the office clock +he protected her, as he would his safe; for his +work and time had trained him to be ready +instantly for any emergency.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, sister," he called cheerily, as he +hurried toward the door.</p> + +<p>"Good-night, John," said Nora, glancing up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> +from the till, radiant with the excitement of her +"sweet distress."</p> + +<p>"Oh, by Jove!" said a man.</p> + +<p>"Huh!" said a woman, and they looked like +people who had just missed a boat.</p> + +<p>With her face against the window, Nora +watched the red lights on the rear of No. 7 +swing out to the main line.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Closing the desk, she climbed to her room on +the third floor and knelt by the window. Away +out on the shrouded vale she saw the dark train +creeping, a solid stream of fire flowing from the +short stack of the "shotgun"; for Peasley was +pounding her for all she was worth in an honest +effort to make up the hour that Shanley had +lost in the snowdrifts of Marshall Pass. Presently +she heard the muffled roar of the train on +a trestle, and a moment later saw the Salt Lake +Limited swallowed by the Black Cañon, in whose +sunless gorges many a driver died before the +scenery settled after having been disturbed by +the builders of the road.</p> + +<p>Over ahead in his quiet car Cassidy sat +musing, smoking, and wondering why Nora<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> +should seem so anxious about him. Turning, +he glanced about. Everything looked right, but +the girl's anxiety bothered him.</p> + +<p>Picking up a bundle of way-bills, he began +checking up. The engine screamed for Sapinero, +and a moment later he felt the list as they +rounded Dead Man's Curve.</p> + +<p>Unless they were flagged, the next stop would +be at Cimarron, at the other end of the cañon.</p> + +<p>His work done, the messenger lighted his +pipe, settled himself in his high-backed canvas +camp-chair, and put his feet up on his box for a +good smoke. He tried to think of a number of +things that had nothing whatever to do with +Nora, but somehow she invariably elbowed into +his thoughts.</p> + +<p>He leaned over and opened his box—not +the strong-box, but the wooden, trunk-like box +that holds the messenger's street-coat when he's +on duty and his jumper when he's off. On the +under side of the lifted lid he had fixed a large +panel picture of Nora O'Neal.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Buckingham, peering over a piano-box, behind +which he had hidden at Gunnison, saw and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> +recognized the photograph; for the messenger's +white light stood on the little safe near the +picture. For half an hour he had been watching +Cassidy, wondering why he did not fall asleep. +He had seen Nora put the cup down with her +own hand, to guard, as he thought, against the +possibility of a mistake. What will a woman not +dare and do for the man she loves? He sighed +softly. He recalled now that he had always +exercised a powerful influence over women,—that +is, the few he had known,—but he was surprised +that this consistent Catholic girl should +be so "dead easy."</p> + +<p>"And now look at this one hundred and +ninety-eight pounds of egotism sitting here smiling +on the likeness of the lady who has just +dropped bug-dust in his coffee. It's positively +funny."</p> + +<p>Such were the half-whispered musings of the +would-be robber.</p> + +<p>He actually grew drowsy waiting for Cassidy +to go to sleep. The car lurched on a sharp +curve, dislodging some boxes. Buck felt a +strange, tingling sensation in his fingers and +toes. Presently he nodded.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>Cassidy sat gazing on the pictured face that +had hovered over him in all his dreams for +months, and as he gazed, seemed to feel her +living presence. He rose as if to greet her, but +kept his eyes upon the picture.</p> + +<p>Suddenly realizing that something was wrong +in his end of the car, Buck stood up, gripping +the top of the piano-box. The scream of the +engine startled him. The car crashed over the +switch-frog at Curecanti, and Curecanti's Needle +stabbed the starry vault above. The car swayed +strangely and the lights grew dim.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the awful truth flashed through his +bewildered brain.</p> + +<p>"O-o-o-oh, the wench!" he hissed, pulling +his guns.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Cassidy, absorbed in the photo, heard a door +slam; and it came to him instantly that Nora had +boarded the train at Gunnison, and that some +one was showing her over to the head end. As +he turned to meet her, he saw Buck staggering +toward him, holding a murderous gun in each +hand. Instantly he reached for his revolver, but +a double flash from the guns of the enemy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> +blinded him and put out the bracket-lamps. As +the messenger sprang forward to find his foe, the +desperado lunged against him. Cassidy grabbed +him, lifted him bodily, and smashed him to the +floor of the car; but with the amazing tenacity +and wonderful agility of the trained gun-fighter, +Buck managed to fire as he fell. The big bullet +grazed the top of Cassidy's head, and he fell unconscious +across the half-dead desperado.</p> + +<p>Buck felt about for his gun, which had fallen +from his hand; but already the "bug-dust" was +getting in its work. Sighing heavily, he joined +the messenger in a quiet sleep.</p> + +<p>At Cimarron they broke the car open, revived +the sleepers, restored the outlaw to the Ohio +State Prison, from which he had escaped, and +the messenger to Nora O'Neal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="JACK_RAMSEYS_REASON" id="JACK_RAMSEYS_REASON"></a>JACK RAMSEY'S REASON</h2> + + +<p>When Bill Ross romped up over the range +and blew into Edmonton in the wake of +a warm chinook, bought tobacco at the Hudson's +Bay store, and began to regale the gang +with weird tales of true fissures, paying placers, +and rich loads lying "virgin," as he said, in +Northern British Columbia, the gang accepted +his tobacco and stories for what they were worth; +for it is a tradition up there that all men who +come in with the Mudjekeewis are liars.</p> + +<p>That was thirty years ago.</p> + +<p>The same chinook winds that wafted Bill Ross +and his rose-hued romances into town have +winged them, and the memory of them, away.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Ross reformed, forgot, the +people forgave and made him Mayor of Edmonton.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>When Jack Ramsey called at the capital of +British Columbia and told of a territory in that +great Province where the winter winds blew warm,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> +where snow fell only once in a while and was +gone again with the first peep of the sun; of a +mountain-walled wonderland between the Coast +Range and the Rockies, where flowers bloomed +nine months in the year and gold could be panned +on almost any of the countless rivers, men said he +had come down from Alaska, and that he lied.</p> + +<p>To be sure, they did not say that to Jack,—they +only telegraphed it one to another over +their cigars in the club. Some of them actually +believed it, and one man who had made money in +California and later in Leadville said he <i>knew</i> it +was so; for, said he, "Jack Ramsey never says +or does a thing without a 'reason.'"</p> + +<p>At the end of a week this English-bred Yankee +had organized the "Chinook Mining and Milling +Company, Limited."</p> + +<p>This man was at the head of the scheme, with +Jack Ramsey as Managing Director.</p> + +<p>Ramsey was a prospector by nature made +proficient by practice. He had prospected in +every mining camp from Mexico to Moose +Factory. If he were to find a real bonanza, +his English-American friend used to say, he +would be miserable for the balance of his days,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> +or rather his to-morrows. He lived in his to-morrows,—in +these and in dreams. He loved +women, wine, and music, and the laughter of +little children; but better than all these he +loved the wilderness and the wildflowers and +the soft, low singing of mountain rills. He loved +the flowers of the North, for they were all sweet +and innocent. On all the two thousand five hundred +miles of the Yukon, he used to say, there +is not one poisonous plant; and he reasoned +that the plants of the Peace and the Pine and +the red roses of the Upper Athabasca would be +the same.</p> + +<p>And so, one March morning, he sailed up the +Sound to enter his mountain-walled wonderland +by the portal of Port Simpson, which opens on +the Pacific. His English-American friend went +up as far as Simpson, and when the little coast +steamer poked her prow into Work Channel he +touched the President of the Chinook Mining +and Milling Company and said, "The Gateway +to God's world."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The head of the C.M. & M. Company was +not surprised when Christmas came ahead of Jack<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> +Ramsey's preliminary report. Jack was a careful, +conservative prospector, and would not send +a report unless there was a good and substantial +reason for writing it out.</p> + +<p>In the following summer a letter came,—an +extremely short one, considering what it contained; +for it told, tersely, of great prospects in +the wonderland. It closed with a request for a +new rifle, some garden-seeds, and an H.B. letter +of credit for five hundred dollars.</p> + +<p>After a warm debate among the directors it +was agreed the goods should go.</p> + +<p>The following summer—that is, the second +summer in the life of the Chinook Company—Dawson +dawned on the world. That year about +half the floating population of the Republic went +to Cuba and the other half to the Klondike.</p> + +<p>As the stream swelled and the channel between +Vancouver Island and the mainland grew +black with boats, the President of the C.M. & M. +Company began to pant for Ramsey, that he +might join the rush to the North. That exciting +summer died and another dawned, with no news +from Ramsey.</p> + +<p>When the adventurous English-American could<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> +withstand the strain no longer, he shipped for +Skagway himself. He dropped off at Port +Simpson and inquired about Ramsey.</p> + +<p>Yes, the Hudson people said, it was quite +probable that Ramsey had passed in that way. +Some hundreds of prospectors had gone in +during the past three years, but the current +created by the Klondike rush had drawn most +of them out and up the Sound.</p> + +<p>One man declared that he had seen Ramsey +ship for Skagway on the "Dirigo," and, after a +little help and a few more drinks, gave a minute +description of a famous nugget pin which the +passing pilgrim said the prospector wore.</p> + +<p>And so the capitalist took the next boat for +Skagway.</p> + +<p>By the time he reached Dawson the death-rattle +had begun to assert itself in the bosom of +the boom. The most diligent inquiry failed to +reveal the presence of the noted prospector. On +the contrary, many old-timers from Colorado +and California declared that Ramsey had never +reached the Dike—that is, not since the boom. +In a walled tent on a shimmering sand-bar at +the mouth of the crystal Klondike, Captain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> +Jack Crawford, the "Poet Scout," severely sober +in that land of large thirsts, wearing his old-time +halo of lady-like behavior and hair, was conducting +an "Ice Cream Emporium and Soft-drink +Saloon."</p> + +<p>"No," said the scout, with the tips of his +tapered fingers trembling on an empty table, +straining forward and staring into the stranger's +face; "no, Jack Ramsey has not been here; +and if what you say be true—he sleeps alone +in yonder fastness. Alas, poor Ramsey!—Ah +knew 'im well"; and he sank on a seat, shaking +with sobs.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The English-American, on his way out, stopped +at Simpson again. From a half-breed trapper he +heard of a white man who had crossed the +Coast Range three grasses ago. This white man +had three or four head of cattle, a Cree servant, +and a queer-looking cayuse with long ears and a +mournful, melancholy cry. This latter member +of the gang carried the outfit.</p> + +<p>Taking this half-caste Cree to guide him, the +mining man set out in search of the long-lost +Ramsey. They crossed the first range and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> +searched the streams north of the Peace River +pass, almost to the crest of the continent, but +found no trace of the prospector.</p> + +<p>When the summer died and the wilderness +was darkened by the Northern night, the search +was abandoned.</p> + +<p>The years drifted into the past, and finally the +Chinook Mining and Milling Company went +to the wall. The English-American promoter, +smarting under criticism, reimbursed each of his +associates and took over the office, empty ink-stands +and blotting paper, and so blotted out all +records of the one business failure of his life.</p> + +<p>But he could not blot out Jack Ramsey from +his memory. There was a "reason," he would +say, for Ramsey's silence.</p> + +<p>One day, when in Edmonton, he met Mayor +Ross, who had come into the country by the +back door some thirty years ago. The tales +coaxed from the Mayor's memory corresponded +with Ramsey's report; and having nothing but +time and money, the ex-President of the C.M. +& M. Company determined to go in <i>via</i> the +Peace River pass and see for himself. He made +the acquaintance of Smith "The Silent," as he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> +was called, who was at that time pathfinding for +the Grand Trunk Pacific, and secured permission +to go in with the engineers.</p> + +<p>At Little Slave Lake he picked up Jim +Cromwell, a free-trader, who engaged to guide +the mining man into the wonderland he had +described.</p> + +<p>The story of Ramsey and his rambles appealed +to Cromwell, who talked tirelessly, and to the +engineer, who listened long; and in time the +habitants of Cromwell's domains, which covered +a country some seven hundred miles square, all +knew the story and all joined in the search.</p> + +<p>Beyond the pass of the Peace an old Cree +caught up with them and made signs, for he was +deaf and dumb. But strange as it may seem, +somehow, somewhere, he had heard the story of +the lost miner and knew that this strange white +man was the miner's friend.</p> + +<p>Long he sat by the camp fire, when the camp +was asleep, trying, by counting on his fingers +and with sticks, to make Cromwell understand +what was on his mind.</p> + +<p>When day dawned, he plucked Cromwells' +sleeve, then walked away fifteen or twenty steps,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> +stopped, unrolled his blankets, and lay down, +closing his eyes as if asleep. Presently he got +up, rubbed his eyes, lighted his pipe, smoked +for awhile, then knocked the fire out on a stone. +Then he got up, stamped the fire out as though +it had been a camp fire, rolled up his blankets, +and travelled on down the slope some twenty +feet and repeated the performance. On the +next march he made but ten feet. He stopped, +put his pack down, seated himself on the trunk +of a fallen tree and, with his back to Cromwell, +began gesticulating, as if talking to some one, +nodding and shaking his head. Then he got a +pick and began digging.</p> + +<p>At the end of an hour Cromwell and the +engineer had agreed that these stations were +day's marches and the rests camping places. In +short, it was two and a half "sleeps" to what he +wanted to show them,—a prospect, a gold mine +maybe,—and so Cromwell and the English-American +detached themselves and set out at the +heels of the mute Cree in search of something.</p> + +<p>On the morning of the third day the old +Indian could scarcely control himself, so eager +was he to be off.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p>All through the morning the white men followed +him in silence. Noon came, and still the +Indian pushed on.</p> + +<p>At two in the afternoon, rounding the shoulder +of a bit of highland overlooking a beautiful +valley, they came suddenly upon a half-breed +boy playing with a wild goose that had been +tamed.</p> + +<p>Down in the valley a cabin stood, and over +the valley a small drove of cattle were grazing.</p> + +<p>Suddenly from behind the hogan came the +weird wail of a Colorado canary, who would +have been an ass in Absalom's time.</p> + +<p>They asked the half-breed boy his name, and +he shook his head. They asked for his father, +and he frowned.</p> + +<p>The mute old Indian took up a pick, and they +followed him up the slope. Presently he stopped +at a stake upon which they could <b>still</b> read the +faint pencil-marks:—</p> + +<p class="center"> +C.M.<br /> +M. Co.<br /> +<span class="smcap">L't'd</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>The old Indian pointed to the ground with an +expression which looked to the white men like<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> +an interrogation. Cromwell nodded, and the +Indian began to dig. Cromwell brought a +shovel, and they began sinking a shaft.</p> + +<p>The English-American, with a sickening, sinking +sensation, turned toward the cabin. The +boy preceded him and stood in the door. The +man put his hand on the boy's head and was +about to enter when he caught sight of a nugget +at the boy's neck. He stooped and lifted it. +The boy shrank back, but the man, going deadly +pale, clutched the child, dragging the nugget +from his neck.</p> + +<p>Now all the Indian in the boy's savage soul +asserted itself, and he fought like a little demon. +Pitying the child in its impotent rage, the man +gave him the nugget and turned away.</p> + +<p>Across the valley an Indian woman came +walking rapidly, her arms full of turnips and +onions and other garden-truck. The white man +looked and loathed her; for he felt confident that +Ramsey had been murdered, his trinkets distributed, +and his carcass cast to the wolves.</p> + +<p>When the boy ran to meet the woman, the +white man knew by his behavior that he was +her child. When the boy had told his mother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> +how the white man had behaved, she flew into +a rage, dropped her vegetables, dived into the +cabin, and came out with a rifle in her hands. +To her evident surprise the man seemed not +to dread death, but stood staring at the rifle, +which he recognized as the rifle he had sent to +Ramsey. To his surprise she did not shoot, but +uttering a strange cry, started up the slope, taking +the gun with her. With rifle raised and flashing +eyes she ordered the two men out of the +prospect hole. Warlike as she seemed, she was +more than welcome, for she was a woman and +could talk. She talked Cree, of course, but it +sounded good to Cromwell. Side by side the +handsome young athlete and the Cree woman +sat and exchanged stories.</p> + +<p>Half an hour later the Englishman came up +and asked what the prospect promised.</p> + +<p>"Ah," said Cromwell, sadly, "this is another +story. There is no gold in this vale, though +from what this woman tells me the hills are full +of it. However," he added, "I believe we have +found your friend."</p> + +<p>"Yes?" queried the capitalist.</p> + +<p>"Yes," echoed Cromwell, "here are his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> +wife and his child; and here, where we're +grubbing, his grave."</p> + +<p>"Quite so, quite so," said the big, warm-hearted +English-American, glaring at the ground; +"and that was Ramsey's 'reason' for not +writing."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_GREAT_WRECK_ON_THE_PERE" id="THE_GREAT_WRECK_ON_THE_PERE"></a>THE GREAT WRECK ON THE PÈRE MARQUETTE</h2> + +<p>The reader is not expected to believe this +red tale; but if he will take the trouble to +write the General Manager of the Père Marquette +Railroad, State of Michigan, U.S.A. +enclosing stamped envelope for answer, I make +no doubt that good man, having by this time +recovered from the dreadful shock occasioned +by the wreck, will cheerfully verify the story even +to the minutest detail.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Of course Kelly, being Irish, should have been +a Democrat; but he was not. He was not boisterously +or offensively Republican, but he was +going to vote the prosperity ticket. He had +tried it four years ago, and business had never +been better on the Père Marquette. Moreover, +he had a new hand-car.</p> + +<p>The management had issued orders to the effect +that there must be no coercion of employees.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> +It was pretty well understood among the men +that the higher officials would vote the Republican +ticket and leave the little fellows free to do +the same. So Kelly, being boss of the gang, +could not, with "ju" respect to the order of +the Superintendent, enter into the argument +going on constantly between Burke and Shea +on one side and Lucien Boseaux, the French-Canadian-Anglo-Saxon-Foreign-American +Citizen, +on the other. This argument always reached +its height at noon-time, and had never been +more heated than now, it being the day before +election. "Here is prosper tee," laughed +Lucien, holding up a half-pint bottle of <i>vin +rouge</i>.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Burke retorted, "an' ye have four +pound of cotton waste in the bottom o' that +bucket to trow the grub t' the top. Begad, I'd +vote for O'Bryan wid an empty pail—er none +at all—before I'd be humbugged."</p> + +<p>"Un I," said Lucien, "would pour Messieur +Rousveau vote if my baskett shall all the way +up be cotton."</p> + +<p>"Sure ye would," said Shea, "and ate the +cotton too, ef your masther told ye to. 'Tis<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> +the likes of ye, ye bloomin' furreighner, that +kapes the thrust alive in this country."</p> + +<p>When they were like to come to blows, Kelly, +with a mild show of superiority, which is +second nature to a section boss, would interfere +and restore order. All day they worked and +argued, lifting low joints and lowering high +centres; and when the red sun sank in the tree-tops, +filtering its gold through the golden leaves, +they lifted the car onto the rails and started +home.</p> + +<p>When the men had mounted, Lucien at the +forward handle and Burke and Shea side by +side on the rear bar, they waited impatiently for +Kelly to light his pipe and seat himself comfortably +on the front of the car, his heels hanging +near to the ties.</p> + +<p>There was no more talk now. The men +were busy pumping, the "management" inspecting +the fish-plates, the culverts, and, incidentally, +watching the red sun slide down behind +the trees.</p> + +<p>At the foot of a long slope, down which the +men had been pumping with all their might, +there was a short bridge. The forest was heavy<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> +here, and already the shadow of the woods +lay over the right-of-way. As the car reached +the farther end of the culvert, the men were +startled by a great explosion. The hand-car was +lifted bodily and thrown from the track.</p> + +<p>The next thing Lucien remembers is that he +woke from a fevered sleep, fraught with bad +dreams, and felt warm water running over his +chest. He put his hand to his shirt-collar, removed +it, and found it red with blood. Thoroughly +alarmed, he got to his feet and looked, +or rather felt, himself over. His fingers found +an ugly ragged gash in the side of his neck, and +the fear and horror of it all dazed him.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>He reeled and fell again, but this time did +not lose consciousness.</p> + +<p>Finally, when he was able to drag himself up +the embankment to where the car hung crosswise +on the track, the sight he saw was so appalling +he forgot his own wounds.</p> + +<p>On the side opposite to where he had fallen, +Burke and Shea lay side by side, just as they had +walked and worked and fought for years, and +just as they would have voted on the morrow<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> +had they been spared. Immediately in front of +the car, his feet over one rail and his neck across +the other, lay the mortal remains of Kelly the +boss, the stub of his black pipe still sticking between +his teeth. As Lucien stooped to lift the +helpless head his own blood, spurting from the +wound in his neck, flooded the face and covered +the clothes of the limp foreman. Finding no +signs of life in the section boss, the wounded, +and by this time thoroughly frightened, French-Canadian +turned his attention to the other two +victims. Swiftly now the realization of the awful +tragedy came over the wounded man. His +first thought was of the express now nearly due. +With a great effort he succeeded in placing the +car on the rails, and then began the work of loading +the dead. Out of respect for the office so +lately filled by Kelly, he was lifted first and +placed on the front of the car, his head pillowed +on Lucien's coat. Next he put Burke aboard, +bleeding profusely the while; and then began the +greater task of loading Shea. Shea was a heavy +man, and by the time Lucien had him aboard he +was ready to faint from exhaustion and the loss +of blood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now he must pump up over the little hill; for +if the express should come round the curve and +fall down the grade, the hand-car would be in +greater danger than ever.</p> + +<p>After much hard work he gained the top of +the hill, the hot blood spurting from his neck at +each fall of the handle-bar, and went hurrying +down the long easy grade to Charlevoix.</p> + +<p>To show how the trifles of life will intrude at +the end, it is interesting to hear Lucien declare +that one of the first thoughts that came to him +on seeing the three prostrate figures was, that up +to that moment the wreck had worked a Republican +gain of one vote, with his own in doubt.</p> + +<p>But now he had more serious work for his +brain, already reeling from exhaustion. At the +end of fifteen minutes he found himself hanging +onto the handle, more to keep from falling than +for any help he was giving the car. The evening +breeze blowing down the slope helped him, +so that the car was really losing nothing in speed. +He dared not relax his hold; for if his strength +should give out and the car stop, the express +would come racing down through the twilight +and scoop him into eternity. So he toiled on,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> +dazed, stupefied, fighting for life, surrounded by +the dead.</p> + +<p>Presently above the singing of the wheels he +heard a low sound, like a single, smothered cough +of a yard engine suddenly reversed. Now he +had the feeling of a man flooded with ice-water, +so chilled was his blood. Turning his head to +learn the cause of delay (he had fancied the pilot +of an engine under his car), he saw Burke, one of +the dead men, leap up and glare into his face. +That was too much for Lucien, weak as he was, +and twisting slightly, he sank to the floor of the +car.</p> + +<p>Slowly Burke's wandering reason returned. +Seeing Shea at his feet, bloodless and apparently +unhurt, he kicked him, gently at first, and then +harder, and Shea stood up. Mechanically the +waking man took his place by Burke's side and +began pumping, Lucien lying limp between +them. Kelly, they reasoned, must have been +dead some time, by the way he was pillowed.</p> + +<p>When Shea was reasonably sure that he was +alive, he looked at his mate.</p> + +<p>"Phat way ar're ye feelin'?" asked Burke.</p> + +<p>"Purty good fur a corpse. How's yourself?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, so-so!"</p> + +<p>"Th' Lord is good to the Irish."</p> + +<p>"But luck ut poor Kelly."</p> + +<p>"'Tis too bad," said Shea, "an' him dyin' a +Republican."</p> + +<p>"'Tis the way a man lives he must die."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Shea, thoughtfully, "thim that +lives be the sword must go be the board."</p> + +<p>When they had pumped on silently for awhile, +Shea asked, "How did ye load thim, Burke?"</p> + +<p>"Why—I—I suppose I lifted them aboard. +I had no derrick."</p> + +<p>"Did ye lift me, Burke?"</p> + +<p>"I'm damned if I know, Shea," said Burke, +staring ahead, for Kelly had moved. "Keep +her goin'," he added, and then he bent over the +prostrate foreman. He lifted Kelly's head, and +the eyes opened. He raised the head a little +higher, and Kelly saw the blood upon his beard, +on his coat, on his hands.</p> + +<p>"Are yez hurted, Kelly?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Hurted! Man, I'm dyin'. Can't you see +me heart's blood ebbin' over me?" And then +Burke, crossing himself, laid the wounded head +gently down again.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p> + +<p>By this time they were nearing their destination. +Burke, seeing Lucien beyond human aid, +took hold again and helped pump, hoping to +reach Charlevoix in time to secure medical aid, +or a priest at least, for Kelly.</p> + +<p>When the hand-car stopped in front of the +station at Charlevoix, the employees watching, +and the prospective passengers waiting, for the +express train gathered about the car.</p> + +<p>"Get a docther!" shouted Burke, as the +crowd closed in on them.</p> + +<p>In a few moments a man with black whiskers, +a small hand-grip, and bicycle trousers panted up +to the crowd and pushed his way to the car.</p> + +<p>"What's up?" he asked; for he was the company's +surgeon.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's wan dead, wan dying, and +we're all more or less kilt," said Shea, pushing +the mob back to give the doctor room.</p> + +<p>Lifting Lucien's head, the doctor held a small +bottle under his nose, and the wounded man came +out. Strong, and the reporter would say "willing +hands," now lifted the car bodily from the +track and put it down on the platform near the +baggage-room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span></p> + +<p>When the doctor had revived the French-Canadian +and stopped the flow of blood, he took +the boss in hand. Opening the man's clothes, +he searched for the wound, but found none.</p> + +<p>They literally stripped Kelly to the waist; but +there was not a scratch to be found upon his +body. When the doctor declared it to be his +opinion that Kelly was not hurt at all, but had +merely fainted, Kelly was indignant.</p> + +<p>Of course the whole accident (Lucien being +seriously hurt) had to be investigated, and this +was the finding of the experts:—</p> + +<p>A tin torpedo left on the rail by a flagman +was exploded by the wheel of the hand-car. +A piece of tin flew up, caught Lucien in the +neck, making a nasty wound. Lucien was thrown +from the car, when it jumped the track, so +violently as to render him unconscious. Kelly +and Burke and Shea, picking themselves up, +one after the other, each fainted dead away at +the sight of so much blood.</p> + +<p>Lucien revived first, took in the situation, +loaded the limp bodies, and pulled for home, +and that is the true story of the awful wreck on +the Père Marquette.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_STORY_OF_AN_ENGLISHMAN" id="THE_STORY_OF_AN_ENGLISHMAN"></a>THE STORY OF AN ENGLISHMAN</h2> + + +<p>A young Englishman stood watching a +freight train pulling out of a new town, +over a new track. A pinch-bar, left carelessly +by a section gang, caught in the cylinder-cock +rigging and tore it off.</p> + +<p>Swearing softly, the driver climbed down and +began the nasty work of disconnecting the disabled +machinery. He was not a machinist. +Not all engine-drivers can put a locomotive together. +In fact the best runners are just runners. +The Englishman stood by and, when he saw +the man fumble his wrench, offered a hand. The +driver, with some hesitation, gave him the tools, +and in a few minutes the crippled rigging was +taken down, nuts replaced, and the rigging passed +by the Englishman to the fireman, who threw it +up on the rear of the tank.</p> + +<p>"Are you a mechanic?" asked the driver.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," said the Englishman, standing at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> +least a foot above the engineer. "There's a job +for me up the road, if I can get there."</p> + +<p>"And you're out of tallow?"</p> + +<p>The Englishman was not quite sure; but +he guessed "tallow" was United States for +"money," and said he was short.</p> + +<p>"All right," said the engine-driver; "climb +on."</p> + +<p>The fireman was a Dutchman named Martin, +and he made the Englishman comfortable; but +the Englishman wanted to work. He wanted to +help fire the engine, and Martin showed him how +to do it, taking her himself on the hills. When +they pulled into the town of E., the Englishman +went over to the round-house and the foreman +asked him if he had ever "railroaded." He +said No, but he was a machinist. "Well, I don't +want you," said the foreman, and the Englishman +went across to the little eating-stand where +the trainmen were having dinner. Martin moved +over and made room for the stranger between +himself and his engineer.</p> + +<p>"What luck?" asked the latter.</p> + +<p>"Hard luck," was the answer, and without +more talk the men hurried on through the meal.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> + +<p>They had to eat dinner and do an hour's +switching in twenty minutes. That is an easy +trick when nobody is looking. You arrive, eat +dinner, then register in. That is the first the +despatcher hears of you at E. You switch +twenty minutes and register out. That is the +last the despatcher hears of you at E. You +switch another twenty minutes and go. That is +called stealing time; and may the Manager have +mercy on you if you're caught at it, for you've +got to make up that last twenty minutes before +you hit the next station.</p> + +<p>As the engineer dropped a little oil here and +there for another dash, the Englishman came up to +the engine. He could not bring himself to ask the +driver for another ride, and he didn't need to.</p> + +<p>"You don't get de jobs?" asked Martin.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Vell, dat's all right; you run his railroad +some day."</p> + +<p>"I don't like the agent here," said the driver; +"but if you were up at the other end of the yard, +over on the left-hand side, he couldn't see you, +and I couldn't see you for the steam from that +broken cylinder-cock."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></p> + +<p>Now they say an Englishman is slow to catch +on, but this one was not; and as the engine +rattled over the last switch, he climbed into the +cab in a cloud of steam. Martin made him +welcome again, pointing to a seat on the waste-box. +The dead-head took off his coat, folded +it carefully, laid it on the box, and reached for +the shovel. "Not yet," said Martin, "dare is +holes already in de fire; I must get dose yello +smoke from de shtack off."</p> + +<p>The dead-head leaned from the window, +watching the stack burn clear, then Martin gave +him the shovel. Half-way up a long, hard hill +the pointer on the steam-gauge began to go back. +The driver glanced over at Martin, and Martin +took the shovel. The dead-head climbed up on +the tank and shovelled the coal down into the +pit, that was now nearly empty. In a little while +they pulled into the town of M.C., Iowa, at the +crossing of the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. +Paul. Here the Englishman had to change cars. +His destination was on the cross-road, still one +hundred and eighteen miles away. The engine-driver +took the joint agent to one side, the agent +wrote on a small piece of paper, folded it carefully,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> +and gave it to the Englishman. "This may +help you," said he; "be quick—they're just +pulling out—run!"</p> + +<p>Panting, the Englishman threw himself into a +way-car that was already making ten miles an +hour. The train official unfolded the paper, +read it, looked the Englishman over, and said, +"All right."</p> + +<p>It was nearly night when the train arrived at +W., and the dead-head followed the train crew +into an unpainted pine hotel, where all hands fell +eagerly to work. A man stood behind a little +high desk at the door taking money; but when +the Englishman offered to pay he said, "Yours +is paid fer."</p> + +<p>"Not mine; nobody knows me here."</p> + +<p>"Then, 'f the devil don't know you better +than I do you're lost, young man," said the +landlord. "But some one p'inted to you and +said, 'I pay fer him.' It ain't a thing to make a +noise about. It don't make no difference to me +whether it's Tom or Jerry that pays, so long as +everybody represents."</p> + +<p>"Well, this is a funny country," mused the +Englishman, as he strolled over to the shop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> +Now when he heard the voice of the foreman, +with its musical burr, which stamped the man +as a Briton from the Highlands, his heart grew +glad. The Scotchman listened to the stranger's +story without any sign of emotion or even interest; +and when he learned that the man had +"never railroaded," but had been all his life in +the British Government service, he said he could +do nothing for him, and walked away.</p> + +<p>The young man sat and thought it over, and +concluded he would see the master-mechanic. +On the following morning he found that official +at his desk and told his story. He had just +arrived from England with a wife and three children +and a few dollars. "That's all right," +said the master-mechanic; "I'll give you a job +on Monday morning."</p> + +<p>This was Saturday, and during the day the +first foreman with whom the Englishman had +talked wired that if he would return to E. he +could find work. The young man showed this +wire to the master-mechanic. "I should like +to work for you," said he; "you have been +very kind to give me employment after the foreman +had refused, but my family is near this<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> +place. They are two hundred miles or more +from here."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said the kind-hearted official, +"and you'd better go back to E."</p> + +<p>The Englishman rubbed his chin and looked +out of the window. The train standing at the +station and about to pull out would carry him +back to the junction, but he made no effort to +catch it, and the master-mechanic, seeing this, +caught the drift of the young man's mind. +"Have you transportation?" he asked. The +stranger, smiling, shook his head. Turning to +his desk, the master-mechanic wrote a pass to +the junction and a telegram requesting transportation +over the Iowa Central from the junction +to the town of E.</p> + +<p>That Sunday the young man told his young +wife that the new country was "all right." +Everybody trusted everybody else. An official +would give a stranger free transportation; a +station agent could give you a pass, and even +an engine-driver could carry a man without +asking permission.</p> + +<p>He didn't know that all these men save the +master-mechanic had violated the rules of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> +road and endangered their own positions and +the chance of promotion by helping him; but +he felt he was among good, kind people, and +thanked them just the same.</p> + +<p>On Monday morning he went to work in the +little shop. In a little while he was one of the +trustworthy men employed in the place. "How +do you square a locomotive?" he asked the +foreman. "Here," said the foreman; "from +this point to that."</p> + +<p>That was all the Englishman asked. He +stretched a line between the given points and +went to work.</p> + +<p>Two years from this the town of M. offered to +donate to the railroad company $47,000 if the +new machine shop could be located there, steam +up and machinery running, on the first day of +January of the following year.</p> + +<p>The general master-mechanic entrusted the +work of putting in the machinery, after the walls +had been built and the place roofed over, to the +division master-mechanic, who looked to the +local foreman to finish the job in time to win +the subsidy.</p> + +<p>The best months of the year went by before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> +work was begun. Frost came, and the few men +tinkering about were chilled by the autumn +winds that were wailing through the shutterless +doors and glassless windows. Finally the foreman +sent the Englishman to M. to help put up +the machinery. He was a new man, and therefore +was expected to take signals from the oldest +man on the job,—a sort of straw-boss.</p> + +<p>The bridge boss—the local head of the wood-workers—found +the Englishman gazing about, +and the two men talked together. There was no +foreman there, but the Englishman thought he +ought to work anyway; so he and the wood +boss stretched a line for a line-shaft, and while +the carpenter's gang put up braces and brackets +the Englishman coupled the shaft together, and +in a few days it was ready to go up. As the +young man worked and whistled away one +morning, the boss carpenter came in with a +military-looking gentleman, who seemed to own +the place. "Where did you come from?" asked +the new-comer of the machinist.</p> + +<p>"From England, sir."</p> + +<p>"Well, anybody could tell that. Where did +you come from when you came here?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p> + +<p>"From E."</p> + +<p>"Well, sir, can you finish this job and have +steam up here on the first of January?"</p> + +<p>The Englishman blushed, for he was embarrassed, +and glanced at the wood boss. Then, +sweeping the almost empty shop with his eye, +he said something about a foreman who was in +charge of the work. "Damn the foreman," said +the stranger; "I'm talking to you."</p> + +<p>The young man blushed again, and said he +could work twelve or fourteen hours a day for a +time if it were necessary, but he didn't like to +make any rash promises about the general result.</p> + +<p>"Now look here," said the well-dressed man, +"I want you to take charge of this job and finish +it; employ as many men as you can handle, and +blow a whistle here on New Year's morning—do +you understand?"</p> + +<p>The Englishman thought he did, but he could +hardly believe it. He glanced at the wood boss, +and the wood boss nodded his head.</p> + +<p>"I shall do my best," said the Englishman, +taking courage, "but I should like to know who +gives these orders."</p> + +<p>"I'm the General Manager," said the man;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> +"now get a move on you," and he turned and +walked out.</p> + +<p>It is not to be supposed that the General +Manager saw anything remarkable about the +young man, save that he was six feet and had +a good face. The fact is, the wood foreman had +boomed the Englishman's stock before the Manager +saw him.</p> + +<p>The path of the Englishman was not strewn +with flowers for the next few months. Any number +of men who had been on the road when he was +in the English navy-yards felt that they ought +to have had this little promotion. The local +foremen along the line saw in the young Englishman +the future foreman of the new shops, and +no man went out of his way to help the stranger. +But in spite of all obstacles, the shop grew from +day to day, from week to week; so that as the +old year drew to a close the machinery was getting +into place. The young foreman, while a +hard worker, was always pleasant in his intercourse +with the employees, and in a little while +he had hosts of friends. There is always a lot +of extra work at the end of a big job, and now +when Christmas came there was still much to do.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> +The men worked night and day. The boiler +that was to come from Chicago had been expected +for some time. Everything was in readiness, +and it could be set up in a day; but it did +not come. Tracer-letters that had gone after it +were followed by telegrams; finally it was located +in a wreck out in a cornfield in Illinois on the +last day of the year.</p> + +<p>A great many of the officials were away, and +the service was generally demoralized during the +holidays, so that the appropriation for which +the Englishman was working at M. had for the +moment been forgotten; the shops were completed, +the machinery was in, but there was no +boiler to boil water to make steam.</p> + +<p>That night, when the people of M. were watching +the old year out and the new year in, the +young Englishman with a force of men was +wrecking the pump-house down by the station. +The little upright boiler was torn out and placed +in the machine shops, and with it a little engine +was driven that turned the long line-shaft.</p> + +<p>At dawn they ran a long pipe through the roof, +screwed a locomotive whistle on the top of it, and +at six o'clock on New Year's morning the new<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> +whistle on the new shops at M. in Iowa, blew in +the new year. Incidentally, it blew the town in +for $47,000.</p> + +<p>This would be a good place to end this story, +but the temptation is great to tell the rest.</p> + +<p>When the shops were opened, the young +Englishman was foreman. This was only about +twenty-five years ago. In a little while they promoted +him.</p> + +<p>In 1887 he went to the Wisconsin Central. +In 1890 he was made Superintendent of machinery +of the Santa Fé route,—one of the longest +roads on earth. It begins at Chicago, strong like +a man's wrist, with a finger each on Sacramento, +San Francisco, San Diego, and El Paso, and a +thumb touching the Gulf at Galveston.</p> + +<p>The mileage of the system, at that time, was +equal to one-half that of Great Britain; and upon +the companies' payrolls were ten thousand more +men than were then in the army of the United +States. Fifteen hundred men and boys walk +into the main shops at Topeka every morning. +They work four hours, eat luncheon, listen to +a lecture or short sermon in the meeting-place +above the shops, work another four hours, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> +walk out three thousand dollars better off than +they would have been if they had not worked.</p> + +<p>These shops make a little city of themselves. +There is a perfect water system, fire-brigade with +fire stations where the firemen sleep, police, and +a dog-catcher.</p> + +<p>Here they build anything of wood, iron, brass, +or steel that the company needs, from a ninety-ton +locomotive to a single-barrelled mouse-trap, +all under the eye of the Englishman who came to +America with a good wife and three babies, a good +head and two hands. This man's name is John +Player. He is the inventor of the Player truck, +the Player hand-car, the Player frog, and many +other useful appliances.</p> + +<p>This simple story of an unpretentious man +came out in broken sections as the special sped +along the smooth track, while the General +Manager talked with the resident director and +the General Superintendent talked with his assistant, +who, not long ago, was the conductor of +a work-train upon which the G.S. was employed +as brakeman. I was two days stealing this +story, between the blushes of the mechanical +Superintendent.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p> + +<p>He related, also, that a man wearing high-cut +trousers and milk on his boot had entered his +office when he had got to his first position as +master-mechanic and held out a hand, smiling, +"Vell, you don't know me yet, ain't it? I'm +Martin the fireman; I quit ranchin' already, an' +I want a jobs."</p> + +<p>Martin got a job at once. He got killed, also, +in a little while; but that is part of the business +on a new road.</p> + +<p>Near the shops at Topeka stands the railroad +Young Men's Christian Association building. +They were enlarging it when I was there. +There are no "saloons" in Kansas, so Player +and his company help the men to provide other +amusements.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="ON_THE_LIMITED" id="ON_THE_LIMITED"></a>ON THE LIMITED</h2> + + +<p>One Sabbath evening, not long ago, I went +down to the depot in an Ontario town to +take the International Limited for Montreal. +She was on the blackboard five minutes in disgrace. +"Huh!" grunted a commercial traveller. +It was Sunday in the aforesaid Ontario town, +and would be Sunday in Toronto, toward which +he was travelling. Even if we were on time we +should not arrive until 9.30—too late for church, +too early to go to bed, and the saloons all closed +and barred. And yet this restless traveller fretted +and grieved because we promised to get into +Toronto five minutes late. Alas for the calculation +of the train despatchers, she was seven +minutes overdue when she swept in and stood +for us to mount. The get-away was good, but +at the eastern yard limits we lost again. The +people from the Pullmans piled into the café car +and overflowed into the library and parlor cars.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> +The restless traveller snapped his watch again, +caught the sleeve of a passing trainman, and +asked "'S matter?" and the conductor answered, +"Waiting for No. 5." Five minutes passed and +not a wheel turned; six, eight, ten minutes, and +no sound of the coming west-bound express. +Up ahead we could hear the flutter and flap of +the blow-off; for the black flier was as restless +as the fat drummer who was snapping his watch, +grunting "Huh," and washing suppressed profanity +down with <i>café noir</i>.</p> + +<p>Eighteen minutes and No. 5 passed. When +the great black steed of steam got them swinging +again we were twenty-five minutes to the +bad. And how that driver did hit the curves! +The impatient traveller snapped his watch again +and said, refusing to be comforted, "She'll +never make it."</p> + +<p>Mayhap the fat and fretful drummer managed +to communicate with the engine-driver, or +maybe the latter was unhappily married or had an +insurance policy; and it is also possible that he +is just the devil to drive. Anyway, he whipped +that fine train of Pullmans, café, and parlor cars +through those peaceful, lamplighted, Sabbath-keeping<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> +Ontario towns as though the whole +show had cost not more than seven dollars, and +his own life less.</p> + +<p>On a long lounge in the library car a well-nourished +lawyer lay sleeping in a way that I had +not dreamed a political lawyer could sleep. +One gamey M.P.—double P, I was told—had +been robbing this same lawyer of a good +deal of rest recently, and he was trying at a +mile a minute to catch up with his sleep. I +could feel the sleeper slam her flanges against +the ball of the rail as we rounded the perfectly +pitched curves, and the little semi-quaver that +tells the trained traveller that the man up ahead +is moving the mile-posts, at least one every +minute. At the first stop, twenty-five miles out, +the fat drummer snapped his watch again, but +he did not say, "Huh." We had made up five +minutes.</p> + +<p>A few passengers swung down here, and a few +others swung up; and off we dashed, drilling the +darkness. I looked in on the lawyer again, for +I would have speech with him; but he was +still sleeping the sleep of the virtuous, with the +electric light full on his upturned baby face,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> +that reminds me constantly of the late Tom +Reed.</p> + +<p>A woman I know was putting one of her +babies to bed in lower 2, when we wiggled +through a reverse curve that was like shooting +White Horse Rapids in a Peterboro. The child +intended for lower 2 went over into 4. +"Never mind," said its mother, "we have +enough to go around;" and so she left that one +in 4 and put the next one in 2, and so on.</p> + +<p>At the next stop where you "Y" and back +into the town, the people, impatient, were lined +up, ready to board the Limited. When we +swung over the switches again, we were only +ten minutes late.</p> + +<p>As often as the daring driver eased off for a +down grade I could hear the hiss of steam +through the safety-valve above the back of the +black flier, and I could feel the flanges against +the ball of the rail, and the little tell-tale semi-quaver +of the car.</p> + +<p>By now the babies were all abed; and from +bunk to bunk she tucked them in, kissed them +good-night, and then cuddled down beside the +last one, a fair-haired girl who seemed to have<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> +caught and kept, in her hair and in her eyes, +the sunshine of the three short summers through +which she had passed.</p> + +<p>Once more I went and stood by the lounge +where the lawyer lay, but I had not the nerve to +wake him.</p> + +<p>The silver moon rose and lit the ripples on +the lake that lay below my window as the last +of the diners came from the café car. Along +the shore of the sleeping lake our engine swept +like a great, black, wingless bird of night. Presently +I felt the frogs of South Parkdale; and +when, from her hot throat she called "Toronto," +the fat and fretful traveller opened his great gold +watch. He did not snap it now, but looked +into its open face and almost smiled; for we +were touching Toronto on the tick of time.</p> + +<p>I stepped from the car, for I was interested +in the fat drummer. I wanted to see him meet +her, and hold her hand, and tell her what a +really, truly, good husband he had been, and +how he had hurried home. As he came down +the short stair a friend faced him and said +"Good-night," where we say "Good-evening." +"Hello, Bill," said the fat drummer. They<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> +shook hands languidly. The fat man yawned +and asked, "Anything doing?" "Not the +littlest," said Bill. "Then," said Jim (the fat +man), "let us go up to the King Edward, sit +down, and have a good, quiet smoke."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_CONQUEST_OF_ALASKA" id="THE_CONQUEST_OF_ALASKA"></a>THE CONQUEST OF ALASKA</h2> + + +<p>Immediately under the man with the +money, who lived in London, there was the +President in Chicago; then came the chief +engineer in Seattle, the locating engineer in +Skagway, the contractor in the grading camp, +and Hugh Foy, the "boss" of the builders. +Yet in spite of all this overhanging stratification, +Foy was a big man. To be sure, none of +these men had happened to get their positions +by mere chance. They were men of character +and fortitude, capable of great sacrifice.</p> + +<p>Mr. Close, in London, knew that his partner, +Mr. Graves, in Chicago, would be a good man +at the head of so cold and hopeless an enterprise +as a Klondike Railway; and Mr. Graves +knew that Erastus Corning Hawkins, who had +put through some of the biggest engineering +schemes in the West, was the man to build the +road. The latter selected, as locating engineer,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> +John Hislop, the hero, one of the few survivors +of that wild and daring expedition that undertook, +some twenty years ago, to survey a route +for a railroad whose trains were to traverse the +Grand Cañon of Colorado, where, save for the +song of the cataract, there is only shade and +silence and perpetual starlight. Heney, a wiry, +compact, plucky Canadian contractor, made oral +agreement with the chief engineer and, with +Hugh Foy as his superintendent of construction, +began to grade what they called the White Pass +and Yukon Railway. Beginning where the bone-washing +Skagway tells her troubles to the tide-waters +at the elbow of that beautiful arm of the +Pacific Ocean called Lynn Canal, they graded +out through the scattered settlement where a +city stands to-day, cut through a dense forest of +spruce, and began to climb the hill.</p> + +<p>When the news of ground-breaking had gone +out to Seattle and Chicago, and thence to London, +conservative capitalists, who had suspected +Close Brothers and Company and all their +associates in this wild scheme of temporary insanity, +concluded that the sore affliction had +come to stay. But the dauntless builders on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> +the busy field where the grading camp was in +action kept grubbing and grading, climbing and +staking, blasting and building, undiscouraged +and undismayed. Under the eaves of a dripping +glacier, Hawkins, Hislop, and Heney crept; +and, as they measured off the miles and fixed +the grade by blue chalk-marks where stakes +could not be driven, Foy followed with his army +of blasters and builders. When the pathfinders +came to a deep side cañon, they tumbled down, +clambered up on the opposite side, found their +bearings, and began again. At one place the +main wall was so steep that the engineer was +compelled to climb to the top, let a man down +by a rope, so that he could mark the face of the +cliff for the blasters, and then haul him up again.</p> + +<p>It was springtime when they began, and +through the long days of that short summer the +engineers explored and mapped and located; +and ever, close behind them, they could hear +the steady roar of Foy's fireworks as the skilled +blasters burst big boulders or shattered the +shoulders of great crags that blocked the trail of +the iron horse. Ever and anon, when the climbers +and builders peered down into the ragged<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> +cañon, they saw a long line of pack-animals, +bipeds and quadrupeds,—some hoofed and +some horned, some bleeding, some blind,—stumbling +and staggering, fainting and falling, +the fittest fighting for the trail and gaining the +summit, whence the clear, green waters of the +mighty Yukon would carry them down to Dawson,—the +Mecca of all these gold-mad men. +As often as the road-makers glanced at the +pack-trains, they saw hundreds of thousands of +dollars' worth of traffic going past or waiting +transportation at Skagway, and each strained +every nerve to complete the work while the +sun shone.</p> + +<p>By midsummer they began to appreciate the +fact that this was to be a hard job. When the +flowers faded on the southern slopes, they were +not more than half-way up the hill. Each day +the sun swung lower across the canals, all the +to-morrows were shorter than the yesterdays, +and there was not a man among them with a +shade of sentiment, or a sense of the beautiful, +but sighed when the flowers died. Yes, they +had learned to love this maiden, Summer, that +had tripped up from the south, smiled on them,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> +sung for a season, sighed, smiled once more, +and then danced down the Lynn again.</p> + +<p>"I'll come back," she seemed to say, peeping +over the shoulder of a glacier that stood at +the stage entrance; "I'll come back, but ere +I come again there'll be strange scenes and +sounds on this rude stage so new to you. First, +you will have a short season of melodrama by +a melancholy chap called Autumn, gloriously +garbed in green and gold, with splashes and +dashes of lavender and lace, but sad, sweetly +sad, and sighing always, for life is such a little +while."</p> + +<p>With a sadder smile, she kissed her rosy +fingers and was gone,—gone with her gorgeous +garments, her ferns and flowers, her low, soft +sighs and sunny skies, and there was not a man +that was a man but missed her when she was +gone.</p> + +<p>The autumn scene, though sombre and sad, +was far from depressing, but they all felt the +change. John Hislop seemed to feel it more +than all the rest; for besides being deeply religious, +he was deeply in love. His nearest and +dearest friend, Heney—happy, hilarious Heney—knew,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> +and he swore softly whenever a steamer +landed without a message from Minneapolis,—the +long-looked-for letter that would make Hislop +better or worse. It came at length, and Hislop +was happy. With his horse, his dog, and a +sandwich,—but never a gun,—he would make +long excursions down toward Lake Linderman, +to Bennett, or over Atlin way. When the +country became too rough for the horse, he +would be left picketed near a stream with a faithful +dog to look after him while the pathfinder +climbed up among the eagles.</p> + +<p>In the meantime Foy kept pounding away. +Occasionally a soiled pedestrian would slide +down the slope, tell a wild tale of rich strikes, +and a hundred men would quit work and head +for the highlands. Foy would storm and swear +and coax by turns, but to no purpose; for they +were like so many steers, and as easily stampeded. +When the Atlin boom struck the camp, +Foy lost five hundred men in as many minutes. +Scores of graders dropped their tools and started +off on a trot. The prospector who had told the +fable had thrown his thumb over his shoulder +to indicate the general direction. Nobody had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> +thought to ask how far. Many forgot to let go; +and Heney's picks and shovels, worth over a +dollar apiece, went away with the stampeders. +As the wild mob swept on, the tethered blasters +cut the cables that guyed them to the hills, and +each loped away with a piece of rope around +one ankle.</p> + +<p>Panting, they passed over the range, these +gold-crazed Coxeys, without a bun or a blanket, +a crust or a crumb, many without a cent or even +a sweat-mark where a cent had slept in their +soiled overalls.</p> + +<p>When Foy had exhausted the English, Irish, +and Alaskan languages in wishing the men luck +in various degrees, he rounded up the remnant +of his army and began again. In a day or two +the stampeders began to limp back hungry and +weary, and every one who brought a pick or a +shovel was re-employed. But hundreds kept on +toward Lake Bennett, and thence by water up +Windy Arm to the Atlin country, and many of +them have not yet returned to claim their time-checks.</p> + +<p>The autumn waned. The happy wives of +young engineers, who had been tented along the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> +line during the summer, watched the wildflowers +fade with a feeling of loneliness and deep longing +for their stout-hearted, strong-limbed husbands, +who were away up in the cloud-veiled +hills; and they longed, too, for other loved ones +in the lowlands of their childhood. Foy's +blasters and builders buttoned their coats and +buckled down to keep warm. Below, they +could hear loud peals of profanity as the trailers, +packers, and pilgrims pounded their dumb +slaves over the trail. Above, the wind cried and +moaned among the crags, constantly reminding +them that winter was near at hand. The nights +were longer than the days. The working day +was cut from ten to eight hours, but the pay of +the men had been raised from thirty to thirty-five +cents an hour.</p> + +<p>One day a black cloud curtained the cañon, +and the workmen looked up from their picks +and drills to find that it was November and +night. The whole theatre, stage and all, had +grown suddenly dark; but they knew, by the +strange, weird noise in the wings, that the great +tragedy of winter was on. Hislop's horse and +dog went down the trail. Hawkins and Hislop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span> +and Heney walked up and down among the +men, as commanding officers show themselves +on the eve of battle. Foy chaffed the laborers +and gave them more rope; but no amount of +levity could prevail against the universal feeling +of dread that seemed to settle upon the whole +army. This weird Alaska, so wild and grand, +so cool and sweet and sunny in summer, so +strangely sad in autumn,—this many-mooded, +little known Alaska that seemed doomed ever to +be misunderstood, either over-lauded or lied +about,—what would she do to them? How +cruel, how cold, how weird, how wickedly wild +her winters must be! Most men are brave, and +an army of brave men will breast great peril when +God's lamp lights the field; but the stoutest +heart dreads the darkness. These men were +sore afraid, all of them; and yet no one was +willing to be the first to fall out, so they stood +their ground. They worked with a will born of +desperation.</p> + +<p>The wind moaned hoarsely. The temperature +dropped to thirty-five degrees below zero, +but the men, in sheltered places, kept pounding. +Sometimes they would work all day cleaning the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> +snow from the grade made the day before, and +the next day it would probably be drifted full +again. At times the task seemed hopeless; but +Heney had promised to build to the summit of +White Pass without a stop, and Foy had given +Heney his hand across a table at the Fifth +Avenue Hotel in Skagway.</p> + +<p>At times the wind blew so frightfully that the +men had to hold hands; but they kept pegging +away between blasts, and in a little while were +ready to begin bridging the gulches and deep +side-cañons. One day—or one night, rather, +for there were no days then—a camp cook, +crazed by the cold and the endless night, wandered +off to die. Hislop and Heney found him, +but he refused to be comforted. He wanted to +quit, but Heney said he could not be spared. +He begged to be left alone to sleep in the warm, +soft snow, but Heney brought him back to consciousness +and to camp.</p> + +<p>A premature blast blew a man into eternity. +The wind moaned still more drearily. The +snow drifted deeper and deeper, and one day +they found that, for days and days, they had +been blasting ice and snow when they thought<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> +they were drilling the rock. Heney and Foy +faced each other in the dim light of a tent lamp +that night. "Must we give up?" asked the +contractor.</p> + +<p>"No," said Foy, slowly, speaking in a +whisper; "we'll build on snow, for it's hard +and safe; and in the spring we'll ease it down +and make a road-bed."</p> + +<p>They did so. They built and bedded the +cross-ties on the snow, ballasted with snow, and +ran over that track until spring without an +accident.</p> + +<p>They were making mileage slowly, but the +awful strain was telling on the men and on the +bank account. The president of the company +was almost constantly travelling between Washington +and Ottawa, pausing now and again to +reach over to London for another bag of gold, +for they were melting it up there in the arctic +night—literally burning it up, were these dynamiters +of Foy's.</p> + +<p>To conceive this great project, to put it into +shape, present it in London, secure the funds +and the necessary concessions from two governments, +survey and build, and have a locomotive<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> +running in Alaska a year from the first whoop of +the happy Klondiker, had been a mighty achievement; +but it was what Heney would call "dead +easy" compared with the work that confronted +the President at this time. On July 20, 1897, +the first pick was driven into the ground at +White Pass; just a year later the pioneer locomotive +was run over the road. More than once +had the financial backers allowed their faith in +the enterprise and in the future of the country +beyond to slip away; but the President of the +company had always succeeded in building it +up again, for they had never lost faith in him, or +in his ability to see things that were to most +men invisible. In summer, when the weekly +reports showed a mile or more or less of track +laid, it was not so hard; but when days were +spent in placing a single bent in a bridge, and +weeks were consumed on a switch back in a +pinched-out cañon, it was hard to persuade sane +men that business sense demanded that they pile +on more fuel. But they did it; and, as the +work went on, it became apparent to those interested +in such undertakings that all the heroes +of the White Pass were not in the hills.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> + +<p>In addition to the elements, ever at war with +the builders, they had other worries that winter. +Hawkins had a fire that burned all the company's +offices and all his maps and notes and +records of surveys. Foy had a strike, incited +largely by jealous packers and freighters; and +there was hand-to-hand fighting between the +strikers and their abettors and the real builders, +who sympathized with the company.</p> + +<p>Brydone-Jack, a fine young fellow, who had +been sent out as consulting engineer to look +after the interests of the shareholders, clapped +his hands to his forehead and fell, face down, in +the snow. His comrades carried him to his +tent. He had been silent, had suffered, perhaps +for a day or two, but had said nothing. The +next night he passed away. His wife was waiting +at Vancouver until he could finish his work +in Alaska and go home to her.</p> + +<p>With sad and heavy hearts Hawkins and +Hislop and Heney climbed back to where Foy +and his men were keeping up the fight. Like +so many big lightning-bugs they seemed, with +their dim white lamps rattling around in the +storm. It was nearly all night then. God and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> +his sunlight seemed to have forsaken Alaska. +Once every twenty-four hours a little ball of fire, +red, round, and remote, swung across the cañon, +dimly lighted their lunch-tables, and then disappeared +behind the great glacier that guards +the gateway to the Klondike.</p> + +<p>As the road neared the summit, Heney observed +that Foy was growing nervous, and that +he coughed a great deal. He watched the old +fellow, and found that he was not eating well, +and that he slept very little. Heney asked Foy +to rest, but the latter shook his head. Hawkins +and Hislop and Heney talked the matter over +in Hislop's tent, called Foy in, and demanded +that he go down and out. Foy was coughing +constantly, but he choked it back long enough +to tell the three men what he thought of them. +He had worked hard and faithfully to complete +the job, and now that only one level mile remained +to be railed, would they send the old +man down the hill? "I will not budge," said +Foy, facing his friends; "an' when you gentlemen +ar-re silibratin' th' vict'ry at the top o' the +hill ahn Chuesday nixt, Hugh Foy'll be wood +ye. Do you moind that, now?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span></p> + +<p>Foy steadied himself by a tent-pole and +coughed violently. His eyes were glassy, and +his face flushed with the purplish flush that fever +gives.</p> + +<p>"Enough of this!" said the chief engineer, +trying to look severe. "Take this message, +sign it, and send it at once."</p> + +<p>Foy caught the bit of white clip and read:—</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">"Captain O'Brien,</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Skagway.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">"Save a berth for me on the 'Rosalie.'"</span><br /> +</p> + +<p>They thought, as they watched him, that the +old road-maker was about to crush the paper +in his rough right hand; but suddenly his face +brightened, he reached for a pencil, saying, "I'll +do it," and when he had added "next trip" to +the message, he signed it, folded it, and took it +over to the operator.</p> + +<p>So it happened that, when the last spike was +driven at the summit, on February 20, 1899, the +old foreman, who had driven the first, drove the +last, and it was <i>his</i> last spike as well. Doctor +Whiting guessed it was pneumonia.</p> + +<p>When the road had been completed to Lake<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> +Bennett, the owners came over to see it; and +when they saw what had been done, despite the +prediction that Dawson was dead and that the +Cape Nome boom would equal that of the Klondike, +they authorized the construction of another +hundred miles of road which would connect with +the Yukon below the dreaded White Horse +Rapids. Jack and Foy and Hislop are gone; +and when John Hislop passed away, the West +lost one of the most modest and unpretentious, +yet one of the best and bravest, one of the +purest minded men that ever saw the sun go +down behind a snowy range.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="NUMBER_THREE" id="NUMBER_THREE"></a>NUMBER THREE</h2> + + +<p>One winter night, as the west-bound express +was pulling out of Omaha, a drunken man +climbed aboard. The young Superintendent, +who stood on the rear platform, caught the man +by the collar and hauled him up the steps.</p> + +<p>The train, from the tank to the tail-lights, was +crammed full of passenger-people going home or +away to spend Christmas. Over in front the +express and baggage cars were piled full of baggage, +bundles, boxes, trinkets, and toys, each +intended to make some heart happier on the +morrow, for it was Christmas Eve. It was to +see that these passengers and their precious +freight, already a day late, got through that the +Superintendent was leaving his own fireside to +go over the road.</p> + +<p>The snow came swirling across the plain, cold +and wet, pasting the window and blurring the +headlight on the black locomotive that was climbing +laboriously over the kinks and curves of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> +new track. Here and there, in sheltered wimples, +bands of buffalo were bunched to shield +them from the storm. Now and then an antelope +left the rail or a lone coyote crouched in the +shadow of a telegraph-pole as the dim headlight +swept the right of way. At each stop the Superintendent +would jump down, look about, and +swing onto the rear car as the train pulled out +again. At one time he found that his seat had +been taken, also his overcoat, which had been +left hanging over the back. The thief was discovered +on the blind baggage and turned over +to the "city marshal" at the next stop.</p> + +<p>Upon entering the train again, the Superintendent +went forward to find a seat in the express +car. It was near midnight now. They +were coming into a settlement and passing +through prosperous new towns that were building +up near the end of the division. Near the +door the messenger had set a little green Christmas +tree, and grouped about it were a red sled, +a doll-carriage, some toys, and a few parcels. If +the blond doll in the little toy carriage toppled +over, the messenger would set it up again; and +when passing freight out he was careful not to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> +knock a twig from the tree. So intent was he +upon the task of taking care of this particular +shipment that he had forgotten the Superintendent, +and started and almost stared at him +when he shouted the observation that the messenger +was a little late with his tree.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't mine," he said sadly, shaking his +head. "B'longs to the fellow 't swiped your +coat."</p> + +<p>"No!" exclaimed the Superintendent, as he +went over to look at the toys.</p> + +<p>"If he'd only asked me," said the messenger, +more to himself than to the Superintendent, "he +could 'a' had mine and welcome."</p> + +<p>"Do you know the man?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes—he lives next door to me, and I'll +have to face his wife and lie to her, and then +face my own; but I can't lie to her. I'll tell her +the truth and get roasted for letting Downs get +away. I'll go to sleep by the sound of her sobs +and wake to find her crying in her coffee—that's +the kind of a Christmas I'll have. When he's +drunk he's disgusting, of course; but when +he's sober he's sorry. And Charley Downs is +honest."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Honest!" shouted the Superintendent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know he took your coat, but that +wasn't Charley Downs; it was the tarantula-juice +he'd been imbibing in Omaha. Left alone +he's as honest as I am; and here's a run that +would trip up a missionary. For instance, leaving +Loneville the other night, a man came running +alongside the car and threw in a bundle of bills +that looked like a bale of hay. Not a scrap of +paper or pencil-mark, just a wad o' winnings +with a wang around the middle. 'A Christmas +gift for my wife,' he yelled. 'How much?' +I shouted. 'Oh, I dunno—whole lot, but it's +tied good'; and then a cloud of steam from the +cylinder-cocks came between us, and I haven't +seen him since.</p> + +<p>"For the past six months Downs has tried +hard to be decent, and has succeeded some; +and this was to be the supreme test. For six +months his wife has been saving up to send him +to Omaha to buy things for Christmas. If he +could do that, she argued, and come back sober, +he'd be stronger to begin the New Year. Of +course they looked to me to keep him on the +rail, and I did. I shadowed him from shop to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> +shop until he bought all the toys and some little +trinkets for his wife. Always I found he had +paid and ordered the things to be sent to the +express office marked to me.</p> + +<p>"Well, finally I followed him to a clothing +store, where, according to a promise made to his +wife, he bought an overcoat, the first he had felt +on his back for years. This he put on, of +course, for it is cold in Omaha to-day; and I +left him and slipped away to grab a few hours' +sleep.</p> + +<p>"When I woke I went out to look for him, +but could not find him, though I tried hard, and +came to my car without supper. I found his +coat, however, hung up in a saloon, and redeemed +it, hoping still to find Charley before +train time. I watched for him until we were +signalled out, and then went back and looked +through the train, but failed to find him.</p> + +<p>"Of course I am sorry for Charley," the messenger +went on after a pause, "but more so for +the poor little woman. She's worked and +worked, and saved and saved, and hoped and +dreamed, until she actually believed he'd been +cured and that the sun would shine in her life<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> +again. Why, the neighbors have been talking +across the back fence about how well Mrs. +Downs was looking. My wife declared she +heard her laugh the other day clear over to our +house. Half the town knew about her dream. +The women folks have been carrying work to +her and then going over and helping her do it +as a sort of surprise party. And now it's all off. +To-morrow will be Christmas; and he'll be in +jail, his wife in despair, and I in disgrace. +Charley Downs a thief—in jail! It'll just +break her heart!"</p> + +<p>The whistle proclaimed a stop, and the Superintendent +swung out with a lump in his throat. +This was an important station, and the last one +before Loneville. Without looking to the right +or left, the Superintendent walked straight to the +telegraph office and sent the following message +to the agent at the place where Downs had been +ditched:—</p> + +<blockquote><p>"Turn that fellow loose and send him to Loneville +on three—all a joke.</p> + +<p> "W.C.V., Superintendent."</p></blockquote> + +<p>In a little while the train was rattling over +the road again; and when the engine screamed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> +for Loneville, the Superintendent stood up and +looked at the messenger.</p> + +<p>"What'll I tell her?" the latter asked.</p> + +<p>"Well, he got left at Cactus sure enough, +didn't he? If that doesn't satisfy her, tell her +that he may get over on No. 3."</p> + +<p>When the messenger had turned his freight over +to the driver of the Fargo wagon, he gathered up +the Christmas tree and the toys and trudged +homeward, looking like Santa Claus, so completely +hidden was he by the tree and the trinkets. +As he neared the Downs' home, the door +swung open, the lamplight shone out upon +him, and he saw two women smiling from the +open door. It took but one glance at the messenger's +face to show them that something was +wrong, and the smiles faded. Mrs. Downs received +the shock without a murmur, leaning on +her friend and leaving the marks of her fingers +on her friend's arm.</p> + +<p>The messenger put the toys down suddenly, +silently; and feeling that the unhappy woman +would be better alone, the neighbors departed, +leaving her seated by the window, peering into +the night, the lamp turned very low.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span></p> + +<p>The little clock on the shelf above the stove +ticked off the seconds, measured the minutes, +and marked the melancholy hours. The storm +ceased, the stars came out and showed the quiet +town asleep beneath its robe of white. The +clock was now striking four, and she had scarcely +stirred. She was thinking of the watchers of +Bethlehem, when suddenly a great light shone on +the eastern horizon. At last the freight was +coming. She had scarcely noticed the messenger's +suggestion that Charley might come in on +three. Now she waited, with just the faintest +ray of hope; and after a long while the deep +voice of the locomotive came to her, the long +black train crept past and stopped. Now her +heart beat wildly. Somebody was coming up +the road. A moment later she recognized her +erring husband, dressed exactly as he had been +when he left home, his short coat buttoned close +up under his chin. When she saw him approaching +slowly but steadily, she knew he was sober +and doubtless cold. She was about to fling the +door open to admit him when he stopped and +stood still. She watched him. He seemed to +be wringing his hands. An awful thought chilled<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> +her,—the thought that the cold and exposure +had unbalanced his mind. Suddenly he knelt +in the snow and turned his sad face up to the +quiet sky. He was praying, and with a sudden +impulse she fell upon her knees and they prayed +together with only the window-glass between +them.</p> + +<p>When the prodigal got to his feet, the door +stood open and his wife was waiting to receive +him. At sight of her, dressed as she had been +when he left her, a sudden flame of guilt and +shame burned through him; but it served only +to clear his brain and strengthen his will-power, +which all his life had been so weak, and lately +made weaker for want of exercise. He walked +almost hurriedly to the chair she set for him +near the stove, and sank into it with the weary +air of one who has been long in bed. She felt +of his hands and they were not cold. She +touched his face and found it warm. She +pushed the dark hair from his pale forehead and +kissed it. She knelt and prayed again, her head +upon his knee. He bowed above her while +she prayed, and stroked her hair. She felt his +tears falling upon her head. She stood up, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> +when he lifted his face to hers, looked into his +wide weeping eyes,—aye, into his very soul. +She liked to see the tears and the look of agony +on his face, for she knew by these signs how he +suffered, and she knew why.</p> + +<p>When he had grown calm she brought a cup +of coffee to him. He drank it, and then she led +him to the little dining-room, where a midnight +supper had been set for four, but, because of his +absence, had not been touched. He saw the +tree and the toys that the messenger had left, +and spoke for the first time. "Oh, wife dear, +have they all come? Are they all here? The +toys and all?" and then, seeing the overcoat that +the messenger had left on a chair near by, and +which his wife had not yet seen, he cried excitedly, +"Take that away—it isn't mine!"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes, dear," said his wife, "it must be +yours."</p> + +<p>"No, no," he said; "I bought a coat like +that, but I sold it. I drank a lot and only +climbed on the train as it was pulling out of +Omaha. In the warm car I fell asleep and +dreamed the sweetest dream I ever knew. I +had come home sober with all the things, you<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> +had kissed me, we had a great dinner here, and +there stood the Christmas tree, the children +were here, the messenger and his wife, and their +children. We were all so happy! I saw the +shadow fade from your face, saw you smile and +heard you laugh; saw the old love-light in your +eyes and the rose coming into your cheek. And +then—'Oh, bitterness of things too sweet!'—I +woke to find my own old trembling self again. +It was all a dream. Looking across the aisle, I +saw that coat on the back of an empty seat. I +knew it was not mine, for I had sold mine for +two miserable dollars. I knew, too, that the +man who gave them to me got them back again +before they were warm in my pocket. This +thought embittered me, and, picking up the coat, +I walked out and stood on the platform of the +baggage car. At the next stop they took me off +and turned me over to the city marshal,—for +the coat belonged to the Superintendent.</p> + +<p>"It is like mine, except that it is real, and +mine, of course, was only a good imitation. +Take it away, wife—do take it away—it +haunts me!"</p> + +<p>Pitying him, the wife put the coat out of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span> +sight; and immediately he grew calm, drank +freely of the strong coffee, but he could not eat. +Presently he went over and began to arrange +the little Christmas tree in the box his wife had +prepared for it during his absence. She began +opening the parcels, and when she could trust +herself, began to talk about the surprise they +would have for the children, and now and again +to express her appreciation of some dainty trifle +he had selected for her. She watched him +closely, noting that his hand was unsteady, and +that he was inclined to stagger after stooping for +a little while. Finally, when the tree had been +trimmed, and the sled for the boy and the doll-carriage +for the girl were placed beneath it, she +got him to lie down. When she had made him +comfortable she kissed him again, knelt by his +bed and prayed, or rather offered thanks, and +he was asleep.</p> + +<p>Two hours later the subdued shouts of her +babies, the exclamations of glad surprise that +came in stage whispers from the dining-room, +woke her, and she rose from the little couch +where she had fallen asleep, already dressed to +begin the day.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span></p> + +<p>It was four o'clock in the afternoon when she +called the prodigal. When he had bathed his +feverish face and put on the fresh clothes she +had brought in for him and come into the +dining-room, he saw his rosy dreams of the previous +night fulfilled. The messenger and his +wife shook hands with him and wished him a +Merry Christmas. His children, all the children, +came and kissed him. His wife was smiling, +and the warm blood leaping from her happy +heart actually put color in her cheeks.</p> + +<p>As Downs took the chair at the head of the +table he bowed his head, the rest did likewise, +and he gave thanks, fervently and without +embarrassment.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_STUFF_THAT_STANDS" id="THE_STUFF_THAT_STANDS"></a>THE STUFF THAT STANDS</h2> + + +<p>It was very late in the fifties, and Lincoln and +Douglas were engaged in animated discussion +of the burning questions of the time, when +Melvin Jewett journeyed to Bloomington, Illinois, +to learn telegraphy.</p> + +<p>It was then a new, weird business, and his +father advised him not to fool with it. His college +chum said to him, as they chatted together +for the last time before leaving school, that it +would be grewsomely lonely to sit in a dimly +lighted flag-station and have that inanimate machine +tick off its talk to him in the sable hush of +night; but Jewett was ambitious. Being earnest, +brave, and industrious, he learned rapidly, and +in a few months found himself in charge of a little +wooden way-station as agent, operator, yard-master, +and everything else. It was lonely, but +there was no night work. When the shadows +came and hung on the bare walls of his office the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> +spook pictures that had been painted by his +school chum, the young operator went over to +the little tavern for the night.</p> + +<p>True, Springdale at that time was not much +of a town; but the telegraph boy had the satisfaction +of feeling that he was, by common consent, +the biggest man in the place.</p> + +<p>Out in a hayfield, he could see from his window +a farmer gazing up at the humming wire, +and the farmer's boy holding his ear to the pole, +trying to understand. All this business that so +blinded and bewildered with its mystery, not +only the farmer, but the village folks as well, was +to him as simple as sunshine.</p> + +<p>In a little while he had learned to read a +newspaper with one eye and keep the other on +the narrow window that looked out along the +line; to mark with one ear the "down brakes" +signal of the north-bound freight, clear in the +siding, and with the other to catch the whistle +of the oncoming "cannon ball," faint and far +away.</p> + +<p>When Jewett had been at Springdale some six +or eight months, another young man dropped +from the local one morning, and said, "<i>Wie<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> +gehts</i>," and handed him a letter. The letter +was from the Superintendent, calling him back +to Bloomington to despatch trains. Being the +youngest of the despatchers, he had to take the +"death trick." The day man used to work +from eight o'clock in the morning until four +o'clock in the afternoon, the "split trick" man +from four until midnight, and the "death trick" +man from midnight until morning.</p> + +<p>We called it the "death trick" because, in +the early days of railroading, we had a lot of +wrecks about four o'clock in the morning. That +was before double tracks and safety inventions +had made travelling by rail safer than sleeping at +home, and before trainmen off duty had learned +to look not on liquor that was red. Jewett, +however, was not long on the night shift. He +was a good despatcher,—a bit risky at times, the +chief thought, but that was only when he knew +his man. He was a rusher and ran trains close, +but he was ever watchful and wide awake.</p> + +<p>In two years' time he had become chief despatcher. +During these years the country, so +quiet when he first went to Bloomington, had +been torn by the tumult of civil strife.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span></p> + +<p>With war news passing under his eye every +day, trains going south with soldiers, and cars +coming north with the wounded, it is not remarkable +that the fever should get into the +young despatcher's blood. He read of the great, +sad Lincoln, whom he had seen and heard and +known, calling for volunteers, and his blood +rushed red and hot through his veins. He +talked to the trainmen who came in to register, +to enginemen waiting for orders, to yardmen in +the yards, and to shopmen after hours; and +many of them, catching the contagion, urged +him to organize a company, and he did. He +continued to work days and to drill his men in +the twilight. He would have been up and +drilling at dawn if he could have gotten them +together. He inspired them with his quiet enthusiasm, +held them by personal magnetism, and +by unselfish patriotism kindled in the breast of +each of his fifty followers a desire to do something +for his country. Gradually the railroad, +so dear to him, slipped back to second place in +the affairs of the earth. His country was first. +To be sure, there was no shirking of responsibility +at the office, but the business of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span> +company was never allowed to overshadow the +cause in which he had silently but heartily enlisted. +"Abe" Lincoln was, to his way of +reasoning, a bigger man than the President of +the Chicago and Alton Railroad—which was +something to concede. The country must be +cared for first, he argued; for what good would +a road be with no country to run through?</p> + +<p>All day he would work at the despatcher's +office, flagging fast freights and "laying out" +local passenger trains, to the end that the soldiers +might be hurried south. He would pocket +the "cannon ball" and order the "thunderbolt" +held at Alton for the soldiers' special. "Take +siding at Sundance for troop train, south-bound," +he would flash out, and glory in his power to +help the government.</p> + +<p>All day he would work and scheme for the +company (and the Union), and at night, when +the silver moonlight lay on the lot back of the +machine shops, he would drill and drill as long +as he could hold the men together. They were +all stout and fearless young fellows, trained and +accustomed to danger by the hazard of their +daily toil. They knew something of discipline,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span> +were used to obeying orders, and to reading and +remembering regulations made for their guidance; +and Jewett reasoned that they would become, +in time, a crack company, and a credit +to the state.</p> + +<p>By the time he had his company properly +drilled, young Jewett was so perfectly saturated +with the subject of war that he was almost unfit +for duty as a despatcher. Only his anxiety about +south-bound troop trains held his mind to the +matter and his hand to the wheel. At night, +after a long evening in the drill field, he would +dream of great battles, and hear in his dreams +the ceaseless tramp, tramp of soldiers marching +down from the north to re-enforce the fellows in +the fight.</p> + +<p>Finally, when he felt that they were fit, he +called his company together for the election of +officers. Jewett was the unanimous choice for +captain, other officers were chosen, and the +captain at once applied for a commission.</p> + +<p>The Jewetts were an influential family, and no +one doubted the result of the young despatcher's +request. He waited anxiously for some time, +wrote a second letter, and waited again. "Any<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> +news from Springfield?" the conductor would +ask, leaving the register, and the chief despatcher +would shake his head.</p> + +<p>One morning, on entering his office, Jewett +found a letter on his desk. It was from the +Superintendent, and it stated bluntly that the +resignation of the chief despatcher would be +accepted, and named his successor.</p> + +<p>Jewett read it over a second time, then turned +and carried it into the office of his chief.</p> + +<p>"Why?" echoed the Superintendent; "you +ought to know why. For months you have neglected +your office, and have worked and schemed +and conspired to get trainmen and enginemen +to quit work and go to war. Every day women +who are not ready to be widowed come here +and cry on the carpet because their husbands +are going away with 'Captain' Jewett's company. +Only yesterday a schoolgirl came running after +me, begging me not to let her little brother, the +red-headed peanut on the local, go as drummer-boy +in 'Captain' Jewett's company.</p> + +<p>"And now, after demoralizing the service and +almost breaking up a half a hundred homes, you +ask, 'Why?' Is that all you have to say?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span></p> + +<p>"No," said the despatcher, lifting his head; +"I have to say to you, sir, that I have never knowingly +neglected my duty. I have not conspired. +I have been misjudged and misunderstood; and +in conclusion, I would say that my resignation +shall be written at once."</p> + +<p>Returning to his desk, Jewett found the long-looked-for +letter from Springfield. How his heart +beat as he broke the seal! How timely—just +as things come out in a play. He would not +interrupt traffic on the Alton, but with a commission +in his pocket would go elsewhere and +organize a new company. These things flashed +through his mind as he unfolded the letter. His +eye fell immediately on the signature at the end. +It was not the name of the Governor, who had +been a close friend of his father, but of the +Lieutenant-Governor. It was a short letter, but +plain; and it left no hope. His request had been +denied.</p> + +<p>This time he did not ask why. He knew why, +and knew that the influence of a great railway +company, with the best of the argument on its +side, would outweigh the influence of a train +despatcher and his friends.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span></p> + +<p>Reluctantly Jewett took leave of his old associates +in the office, went to his room in the hotel, +and sat for hours crushed and discouraged. +Presently he rose, kicked the kinks out of his +trousers, and walked out into the clear sunlight. +At the end of the street he stepped from the side-walk +to the sod path and kept walking. He +passed an orchard and plucked a ripe peach +from an overhanging bough. A yellow-breasted +lark stood in a stubble-field, chirped two or three +times, and soared, singing, toward the far blue +sky. A bare-armed man, with a muley cradle, +was cradling grain, and, far away, he heard the +hum of a horse-power threshing machine. It +had been months, it seemed years, since he had +been in the country, felt its cooling breeze, +smelled the fresh breath of the fields, or heard +the song of a lark; and it rested and refreshed +him.</p> + +<p>When young Jewett returned to the town he +was himself again. He had been guilty of no +wrong, but had been about what seemed to him +his duty to his country. Still, he remembered +with sadness the sharp rebuke of the Superintendent, +a feeling intensified by the recollection<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> +that it was the same official who had brought him +in from Springdale, made a train despatcher out +of him, and promoted him as often as he had +earned promotion. If he had seemed to be acting +in bad faith with the officials of the road, he +would make amends. That night he called his +company together, told them that he had been +unable to secure a commission, stated that he +had resigned and was going away, and advised +them to disband.</p> + +<p>The company forming at Lexington was called +"The Farmers," just as the Bloomington company +was known as the "Car-hands." "The +Farmers" was full, the captain said, when Jewett +offered his services. At the last moment one +of the boys had "heart failure," and Jewett was +taken in his place. His experience with the +disbanded "Car-hands" helped him and his +company immeasurably. It was only a few +days after his departure from Bloomington that +he again passed through, a private in "The +Farmers."</p> + +<p>Once in the South, the Lexington company +became a part of the 184th Illinois Infantry, and +almost immediately engaged in fighting. Jewett<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span> +panted to be on the firing-line, but that was not +to be. The regiment had just captured an important +railway which had to be manned and +operated at once. It was the only means of +supplying a whole army corps with bacon and +beans. The colonel of his company was casting +about for railroaders, when he heard of Private +Jewett. He was surprised to find, in "The +Farmers," a man of such wide experience as a +railway official, so well posted on the general situation, +and so keenly alive to the importance of +the railroad and the necessity of keeping it open. +Within a week Jewett had made a reputation. +If there had been time to name him, he would +doubtless have been called superintendent of +transportation; but there was no time to classify +those who were working on the road. They +called him Jewett. In some way the story of +the one-time captain's experience at Bloomington +came to the colonel's ears, and he sent for +Jewett. As a result of the interview, the young +private was taken from the ranks, made a captain, +and "assigned to special duty." His special +duty was that of General Manager of the M. +& L. Railroad, with headquarters in a car.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span></p> + +<p>Jewett called upon the colonel again, uninvited +this time, and protested. He wanted to get into +the fighting. "Don't worry, my boy," said the +good-natured colonel, "I'll take the fight out of +you later on; for the present, Captain Jewett, +you will continue to run this railroad."</p> + +<p>The captain saluted and went about his +business.</p> + +<p>There had been some fierce fighting at the +front, and the Yankees had gotten decidedly the +worst of it. Several attempts had been made to +rush re-enforcements forward by rail, but with +poor success. The pilot engines had all been +ditched. As a last desperate chance, Jewett +determined to try a "black" train. Two engines +were attached to a troop-train, and Jewett +seated himself on the pilot of the forward locomotive. +The lights were all put out. They +were to have no pilot engine, but were to slip +past the ambuscade, if possible, and take chances +on lifted rails and absent bridges. It was near +the end of a dark, rainy night. The train was +rolling along at a good freight clip, the engines +working as full as might be without throwing fire, +when suddenly, from either side of the track, a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span> +yellow flame flared out, followed immediately by +the awful roar of the muskets from whose black +mouths the murderous fire had rushed. The +bullets fairly rained on the jackets of the engines, +and crashed through the cab windows. The engineer +on the head engine was shot from his +seat. Jewett, in a hail of lead, climbed over the +running-board, pulled wide the throttle, and +whistled "off brakes." The driver of the second +engine, following his example, opened also, and +the train was thus whirled out of range, but not +until Jewett had been badly wounded. A second +volley rained upon the rearmost cars, but did little +damage. The enemy had been completely outwitted. +They had mistaken the train for a pilot +engine, which they had planned to let pass; after +which they were to turn a switch, ditch, and +capture the train.</p> + +<p>There was great rejoicing in the hungry army +at the front that dawn, when the long train laden +with soldiers and sandwiches arrived. The +colonel was complimented by the corps commander, +but he was too big and brave to accept +promotion for an achievement in which he had +had no part or even faith. He told the truth,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> +the whole truth, and nothing but the truth; and, +when it was all over, there was no more "Captain" +Jewett. When he came out of the hospital +he had the rank of a major, but was still +"assigned to special duty."</p> + +<p>Major Jewett's work became more important +as the great struggle went on. Other lines of +railway fell into the hands of the Yankees, and +all of them in that division of the army came +under his control. They were good for him, for +they made him a very busy man and kept him +from panting for the firing-line. In conjunction +with General D., the famous army engineer, who +has since become a noted railroad-builder, he +rebuilt and re-equipped wrecked railways, bridged +wide rivers, and kept a way open for men and +supplies to get to the front.</p> + +<p>When at last the little, ragged, but ever-heroic +remnant of the Confederate army surrendered, +and the worn and weary soldiers set their faces to +the north again, Major Jewett's name was known +throughout the country.</p> + +<p>At the close of the war, in recognition of his +ability and great service to the Union, Major +Jewett was made a brevet colonel, by which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> +title he is known to almost every railway man in +America.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Many opportunities came to Colonel Jewett +to enter once more the field in which, since +his school days, he had been employed. One +by one these offers were put aside. They were +too easy. He had been so long in the wreck of +things that he felt out of place on a prosperous, +well-regulated line. He knew of a little struggling +road that ran east from Galena, Illinois. It +was called the Galena and something, for Galena +was at that time the most prosperous and promising +town in the wide, wild West.</p> + +<p>He sought and secured service on the Galena +line and began anew. The road was one of the +oldest and poorest in the state, and one of the +very first chartered to build west from Chicago. +It was sorely in need of a young, vigorous, and +experienced man, and Colonel Jewett's ability +was not long in finding recognition. Step by +step he climbed the ladder until he reached the +General Managership. Here his real work began. +Here he had some say, and could talk directly +to the President, who was one of the chief<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span> +owners. He soon convinced the company that +to succeed they must have more money, build +more, and make business by encouraging settlers +to go out and plough and plant and reap and ship. +The United States government was aiding in the +construction of a railway across the "desert," as +the West beyond the Missouri River was then +called. Jewett urged his company to push out +to the Missouri River and connect with the line +to the Pacific, and they pushed.</p> + +<p>Ten years from the close of the war Colonel +Jewett was at the head of one of the most promising +railroads in the country. Prosperity followed +peace, the West began to build up, the +Pacific Railroad was completed, and the little +Galena line, with a new charter and a new name, +had become an important link connecting the +Atlantic and the Pacific.</p> + +<p>For nearly half a century Jewett has been at +the front, and has never been defeated. The +discredited captain of that promising company +of car-boys has become one of our great "captains +of industry." He is to-day President of +one of the most important railroads in the world, +whose black fliers race out nightly over twin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> +paths of steel, threading their way in and out of +not less than nine states, with nearly nine thousand +miles of main line. He has succeeded beyond +his wildest dreams; and his success is due +largely to the fact that when, in his youth, he +mounted to ride to fame and fortune, he did not +allow the first jolt to jar him from the saddle. +He is made of the stuff that stands.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="THE_MILWAUKEE_RUN" id="THE_MILWAUKEE_RUN"></a>THE MILWAUKEE RUN</h2> + + +<p>Henry Hautman was born old. He +had the face and figure of a voter at fifteen. +His skin did not fit his face,—it wrinkled and +resembled a piece of rawhide that had been left +out in the rain and sun.</p> + +<p>Henry's father was a freighter on the Santa +Fé trail when Independence was the back door +of civilization, opening on a wilderness. Little +Henry used to ride on the high seat with his +father, close up to the tail of a Missouri mule, +the seventh of a series of eight, including the +trailer which his father drove in front of the +big wagon. It was the wind of the west that +tanned the hide on Henry's face and made him +look old before his time.</p> + +<p>At night they used to arrange the wagons in a +ring, in which the freighters slept.</p> + +<p>One night Henry was wakened by the yells +of Indians, and saw men fighting. Presently<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> +he was swung to the back of a cayuse behind +a painted warrior, and as they rode away the +boy, looking back, saw the wagons burning and +guessed the rest.</p> + +<p>Later the lad escaped and made his way to +Chicago, where he began his career on the rail, +and where this story really begins.</p> + +<p>It was extremely difficult, in the early days, +to find sober, reliable young men to man the +few locomotives in America and run the trains. +A large part of the population seemed to be +floating, drifting west, west, always west. So +when this stout-shouldered, strong-faced youth +asked for work, the round-house foreman took +him on gladly. Henry's boyhood had been so +full of peril that he was absolutely indifferent to +danger and a stranger to fear. He was not +even afraid of work, and at the end of eighteen +months he was marked up for a run. He had +passed from the wiping gang to the deck of +a passenger engine, and was now ready for the +road.</p> + +<p>Henry was proud of his rapid promotion, especially +this last lift, that would enable him to +race in the moonlight along the steel trail, though<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span> +he recalled that it had cost him his first little +white lie.</p> + +<p>One of the rules of the road said a man must +be twenty-one years old before he could handle +a locomotive. Henry knew his book well, but +he knew also that the railroad needed his service +and that he needed the job; so when the +clerk had taken his "Personal Record,"—which +was only a mild way of asking where he would +have his body sent in case he met the fate so +common at that time on a new line in a new +country,—he gave his age as twenty, hoping +the master-mechanic would allow him a year for +good behavior.</p> + +<p>Years passed. So did the Indian and the +buffalo. The railway reached out across the +Great American Desert. The border became +blurred and was rubbed out. The desert was +dotted with homes. Towns began to grow up +about the water-tanks and to bud and blow on +the treeless plain.</p> + +<p>Henry Hautman became known as the coolest +and most daring driver on the road. He +was a good engineer and a good citizen. He +owned his home; and while his pay was not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> +what an engineer draws to-day for the same run +made in half the time, it was sufficient unto the +day, his requirements, and his wife's taste.</p> + +<p>Only one thing troubled him. He had bought +a big farm not far from Chicago, for which he +was paying out of his savings. If he kept well, +as he had done all his life, three years more on +the Limited would let him out. Then he could +retire a year ahead of time, and settle down in +comfort on the farm and watch the trains go by.</p> + +<p>It would be his salvation, this farm by the +roadside; for the very thought of surrendering +the "La Salle" to another was wormwood and +gall to Henry. It never occurred to him to +quit and go over to the N.W. or the P.D. & +Q., where they had no age limit for engineers. +No man ever thought of leaving the service of +the Chicago, Milwaukee & Wildwood. The +road was one of the finest, and as for the run,—well, +they used to say, "Drive the Wildwood +Limited and die." Henry had driven it for a +decade and had not died. When he looked +himself over he declared he was the best man, +physically, on the line. But there was the law in +the Book of Rules,—the Bible of the C.M. <span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span>& +W.,—and no man might go beyond the limit set +for the retirement of engine-drivers; and Henry +Hautman, the favorite of the "old man," would +take his medicine. They were a loyal lot on +the Milwaukee in those days. Superintendent +Van Law declared them clannish. "Kick a +man," said he, "in St. Paul, and his friends will +feel the shock in the lower Mississippi."</p> + +<p>Time winged on, and as often as Christmas +came it reminded the old engineer that he was +one year nearer his last trip; for his mother, now +sleeping in the far West, had taught him to +believe that he had come to her on Christmas +Eve.</p> + +<p>How the world had aged in threescore years! +Sometimes at night he had wild dreams of his +last day on the freight wagon, of the endless +reaches of waving wild grass, of bands of buffalo +racing away toward the setting sun, a wild deer +drinking at a running stream, and one lone +Indian on the crest of a distant dune, dark, +ominous, awful. Sometimes, from his high seat +at the front of the Limited, he caught the flash +of a field fire and remembered the burning +wagons in the wilderness.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span></p> + +<p>But the wilderness was no more, and Henry +knew that the world's greatest civilizer, the +locomotive, had been the pioneer in all this +great work of peopling the plains. The pathfinders, +the real heroes of the Anglo-Saxon race, +had fought their way from the Missouri River to +the sundown sea. He recalled how they used +to watch for the one opposing passenger train. +Now they flashed by his window as the mile-posts +flashed in the early days, for the line had been +double-tracked so that the electric-lighted hotels +on wheels passed up and down regardless of +opposing trains. All these changes had been +wrought in a single generation; and Henry felt +that he had contributed, according to his light, +to the great work.</p> + +<p>But the more he pondered the perfection of +the service, the comfort of travel, the magnificence +of the Wildwood Limited, the more he +dreaded the day when he must take his little +personal effects from the cab of the La Salle +and say good-bye to her, to the road, and hardest +of all, to the "old man," as they called the +master-mechanic.</p> + +<p>One day when Henry was registering in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> +round-house, he saw a letter in the rack for him, +and carried it home to read after supper.</p> + +<p>When he read it, he jumped out of his chair. +"Why, Henry!" said his wife, putting down her +knitting, "what ever's the matter,—open switch +or red light?"</p> + +<p>"Worse, Mary; it's the end of the track."</p> + +<p>The old engineer tossed the letter over to his +wife, sat down, stretched his legs out, locked his +fingers, and began rolling his thumbs one over +the other, staring at the stove.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Hautman had finished the letter +she stamped her foot and declared it an outrage. +She suggested that somebody wanted the La +Salle. "Well," she said, resigning herself to her +fate, "I bet I have that coach-seat out of the +cab,—it'll make a nice tête-à-tête for the front +room. Superannuated!" she went on with growing +disgust. "I bet you can put any man on +the first division down three times in five."</p> + +<p>"It's me that's down, Mary,—down and +out."</p> + +<p>"Henry Hautman, I'm ashamed of you! you +know you've got four years come Christmas—why +don't you fight? Where's your Brotherhood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> +you've been paying money to for twenty +years? I bet a 'Q' striker comes and takes your +engine."</p> + +<p>"No, Mary, we're beaten. I see how it all +happened now. You see I began at twenty +when I was really but sixteen; that's where I +lose. I lied to the 'old man' when we were both +boys; now that lie comes back to me, as a +chicken comes home to roost."</p> + +<p>"But can't you explain that now?"</p> + +<p>"Well, not easy. It's down in the records—it's +Scripture now, as the 'old man' would say. +No, the best I can do is to take my medicine +like a man; I've got a month yet to think it +over."</p> + +<p>After that they sat in silence, this childless +couple, trying to fashion to themselves how it +would seem to be superannuated.</p> + +<p>The short December days were all too short +for Henry. He counted the hours, marked the +movements of the minute-hand on the face of +his cab clock, and measured the miles he would +have, not to "do" but to enjoy, before Christmas. +As the weeks went by the old engineer +became a changed man. He had always been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> +cheerful, happy, and good-natured. Now he became +thoughtful, silent, melancholy. There was +not a man on the first division but grieved because +he was going, but no man would dare say +so to Henry. Sympathy is about the hardest +thing a stout heart ever has to endure.</p> + +<p>While Henry was out on his last trip his wife +waited upon the master-mechanic and asked him +to bring his wife over and spend Christmas Eve +with Henry and help her to cheer him up; and +the "old man" promised to call that evening.</p> + +<p>Although there were half-a-dozen palms itching +for the throttle of the La Salle, no man had +yet been assigned to the run. And the same +kindly feeling of sympathy that prompted this +delay prevented the aspirants from pressing their +claims. Once, in the lodge room, a young +member eager for a regular run opened the +question, but saw his mistake when the older +members began to hiss like geese, while the +Worthy Master smote the table with his maul. +Henry saw the La Salle cross the turn-table and +back into the round-house, and while he "looked +her over," examining every link and pin, each +lever and link-lifter, the others hurried away; for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> +it was Christmas Eve, and nobody cared to say +good-bye to the old engineer.</p> + +<p>When he had walked around her half-a-dozen +times, touching her burnished mainpins with the +back of his hand, he climbed into the cab and +began to gather up his trinkets, his comb and +tooth-brush, a small steel monkey-wrench, and a +slender brass torch that had been given to him +by a friend. Then he sat upon the soft cushioned +coach-seat that his wife had coveted, and looked +along the hand-railing. He leaned from the +cab window and glanced along the twin stubs of +steel that passed through the open door and +stopped short at the pit, symbolizing the end of +his run on the rail. The old boss wiper came +with his crew to clean the La Salle, but when he +saw the driver there in the cab he passed him by.</p> + +<p>Long he sat in silence, having a last visit with +La Salle, her brass bands gleaming in the twilight. +For years she had carried him safely +through snow and sleet and rain, often from +dawn till dusk, and sometimes from dusk till +dawn again. She had been his life's companion +while on the road, who now, "like some familiar +face at parting, gained a graver grace."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span></p> + +<p>Presently the lamp-lighters came and began +lighting the oil lamps that stood in brackets along +the wall; but before their gleam reached his face +the old engineer slid down and hurried away +home with never a backward glance.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>That night when Mrs. Hautman had passed +the popcorn and red apples, and they had all +eaten and the men had lighted cigars, the engineer's +wife brought a worn Bible out and drew +a chair near the master-mechanic. The "old +man," as he was called, looked at the book, +then at the woman, who held it open on her +lap.</p> + +<p>"Do you believe this book?" she asked +earnestly.</p> + +<p>"Absolutely," he answered.</p> + +<p>"All that is written here?"</p> + +<p>"All," said the man.</p> + +<p>Then she turned to the fly-leaf and read the +record of Henry's birth,—the day, the month, +and the year.</p> + +<p>Henry came and looked at the book and the +faded handwriting, trying to remember; but it +was too far away.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span></p> + +<p>The old Bible had been discovered that day +deep down in a trunk of old trinkets that had +been sent to Henry when his mother died, years +ago.</p> + +<p>The old engineer took the book and held it +on his knees, turned its limp leaves, and dropped +upon them the tribute of a strong man's tear.</p> + +<p>The "old man" called for the letter he had +written, erased the date, set it forward four years, +and handed it back to Henry.</p> + +<p>"Here, Hank," said he, "here's a Christmas +gift for you."</p> + +<p>So when the Wildwood Limited was limbered +up that Christmas morning, Henry leaned from +the window, leaned back, tugged at the throttle +again, smiled over at the fireman, and said, "Now, +Billy, watch her swallow that cold, stiff steel at +about a mile a minute."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOKS_BY_CY_WARMAN" id="BOOKS_BY_CY_WARMAN"></a>BOOKS BY CY WARMAN</h2> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<h2><b>SHORT RAILS</b></h2> + +<h4>12mo. $1.25</h4> + +<p>OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">N.Y. Times Review.</span></p> + +<p>It is good for the soul that we should look into other +worlds than our own, and Mr. Warman knows how +to put us beside fireman and engineer and how to make +us feel the poetry as well as the power of the tireless +giants that fulfil for us moderns the ancient dream of +the fire-breathing brazen bulls yoked for the service +of man.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Outlook.</span></p> + +<p>A dozen or more spirited tales, tersely told, and with +that surety of touch which comes only from intimate +knowledge.... The romance, danger, bravery, plottings, +and nobility of action incident to life on the rail +are all realistically depicted, and the reader feels the +charm which attaches to the new or strange.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boston Advertiser.</span></p> + +<p>The reader will find much pleasure, and no disappointment, +in reading these pages.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h2><b>THE +WHITE MAIL</b></h2> + +<h4>12mo. $1.25</h4> + +<p>OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Nation.</span></p> + +<p>Cy Warman can always impart a living interest to a +story through his close intimacy with locomotives, yard-masters, +signals, switches, with all that pertains to railroading, +in a word—from a managers' meeting to a +frog. The tender enthusiasm he feels for the denizens +of his iron jungle is contagious.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Outlook</span></p> + +<p>Mr. Cy Warman, by long personal experience, acquired +a close and exact knowledge of the life of railroad +men. "The White Mail" brings out realistically +the actual life of the engineer, the brakeman, and the +freight handler.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Congregationalist</span></p> + +<p>Cy Warman writes excellent railroad stories, of +course, and his new one, "The White Mail," is short, +lively, and eminently readable.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">St. Louis Globe-Democrat</span></p> + +<p>In "The White Mail," Cy Warman, in the pleasant, +witty style for which this poet of the Rockies has become +noted, has presented a tender, touching picture.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<h2><b>TALES OF AN +ENGINEER</b></h2> + +<h3><i>With Rhymes of the Rail</i></h3> + +<h4>12mo. $1.25</h4> + +<p>OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Congregationalist</span></p> + +<p>There is true power in Cy Warman's "Tales of an +Engineer," and the reader yields willingly to the attraction +of its blended novelty, spirit, and occasional pathos. +It does not lack humor, and every page is worth reading.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Churchman</span></p> + +<p>A new departure in literature should be interesting even +if lacking in the brilliant off-hand sketchiness of these +pages. One steps into a new life. There is not a +dull page in this book, and much of it is of more than +ordinary interest.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">New York Commercial Advertiser</span></p> + +<p>There is a rugged directness about the description of +rushing runs on the rail, through which one can hear +the thump-thump of the machinery as the engine +dashes over the rails, and which seems to be illumined +by the glow of the headlights and the colored signals.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<h2><b>THE EXPRESS +MESSENGER</b></h2> + +<h3><i>And Other Tales of the Rail</i></h3> + +<h4>12mo. $1.25</h4> + +<p>OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Boston Transcript</span></p> + +<p>The author's work is familiarly and pleasantly known +to magazine readers for the realistic details of Western +railroad life, which give them a dashing, vital movement, +though they are often highly romantic. The romantic +in them, however, seems very human—indeed, there +is a ring of true feeling in these little tales.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Brooklyn Daily Eagle</span></p> + +<p>Mr. Warman's work has about it the merit of a +genuine realism, and it is as full of romance and adventure +as the most exacting reader could desire. It is a +volume of sketches that is well worth reading, not only +because they are well written and full of action, but for +the pictures they give of a life that the world really +knows very little about.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Philadelphia Press</span></p> + +<p>The poet appears in the descriptive passages, and +there is a melodious rhythm to his prose style that is +pleasurable in a high degree. Mr. Warman has a +field of his own, and he is master of it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span></p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<h2><b>FRONTIER +STORIES</b></h2> + +<h4>12mo. $1.25</h4> + +<p>OPINIONS OF THE PRESS</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Review of Reviews</span></p> + +<p>Nobody knows his frontier life better than Mr. Warman, +and his yarns of Indians, striking miners, cowboys, +half-breeds, and railroad men, are full of vivid +reality. There is plenty of romance and excitement in +this score of stories.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Churchman</span></p> + +<p>Eighteen tales which certainly are excellent in their +kind, quick, breezy, full of the local color, yet with +delightful touches of universal humanity.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Cincinnati Commercial Tribune</span></p> + +<p>They are honest little chapters of life simply written, +an effective word of slang stuck in here and there +where it does not seem at all out of place; honest, +open-hearted, steady-eyed narratives all, with the breeze +of the Western prairies in every line, as well as the +brotherhood of man, and his triumphs and his failures +impressing themselves upon you at every turn.<br /><br /></p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS</p> + +<p>153-157 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK</p> + + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Spike, by Cy Warman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST SPIKE *** + +***** This file should be named 17572-h.htm or 17572-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/5/7/17572/ + +Produced by Melissa Er-Raqabi, Ted Garvin, Josephine +Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last Spike + And Other Railroad Stories + +Author: Cy Warman + +Release Date: January 22, 2006 [EBook #17572] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST SPIKE *** + + + + +Produced by Melissa Er-Raqabi, Ted Garvin, Josephine +Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + +THE + +LAST SPIKE + +AND OTHER + +RAILROAD STORIES + +BY + +CY WARMAN + +NEW YORK +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS +1906 + + +_Copyright, 1906_, +BY CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +Published February, 1906 + +THE UNIVERSITY PRESS, CAMBRIDGE, U.S.A. + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + +THE LAST SPIKE 1 + +THE BELLE OF ATHABASCA 31 + +PATHFINDING IN THE NORTHWEST 49 + +THE CURE'S CHRISTMAS GIFT 61 + +THE MYSTERIOUS SIGNAL 85 + +CHASING THE WHITE MAIL 107 + +OPPRESSING THE OPPRESSOR 119 + +THE IRON HORSE AND THE TROLLEY 135 + +IN THE BLACK CANON 151 + +JACK RAMSEY'S REASON 165 + +THE GREAT WRECK ON THE PERE MARQUETTE 181 + +THE STORY OF AN ENGLISHMAN 193 + +ON THE LIMITED 211 + +THE CONQUEST OF ALASKA 219 + +NUMBER THREE 237 + +THE STUFF THAT STANDS 253 + +THE MILWAUKEE RUN 273 + + + + +THE LAST SPIKE + + +"Then there is nothing against him but his poverty?" + +"And general appearance." + +"He's the handsomest man in America." + +"Yes, that is against him, and the fact that he is always _in_ America. +He appears to be afraid to get out." + +"He's the bravest boy in the world," she replied, her face still to the +window. "He risked his life to drag me from under the ice," she added, +with a girl's loyalty to her hero and a woman's pride in the man she +loves. + +"Well, I must own he has nerve," her father added, "or he never would +have accepted my conditions." + +"And what where these conditions, pray?" the young woman asked, turning +and facing her father, who sat watching her every move and gesture. + +"First of all, he must do something; and do it off his own bat. His old +father spent his last dollar to educate this young rascal, to equip him +for the battle of life, and his sole achievement is a curve that nobody +can find. Now I insist he shall do something, and I have given him five +years for the work." + +"Five years!" she gasped, as she lost herself in a big chair. + +"He is to have time to forget you, and you are to have ample opportunity +to forget him, which you will doubtless do, for you are not to meet or +communicate with each other during this period of probation." + +"Did he promise this?" + +"Upon his honor." + +"And if he break that promise?" + +"Ah, then he would be without honor, and you would not marry him." A +moment's silence followed, broken by a long, deep sigh that ended in +little quivering waves, like the faint ripples that reach the +shore,--the whispered echoes of the sobbing sea. + +"O father, it is cruel! _cruel! cruel!_" she cried, raising a tearful +face to him. + +"It is justice, stern justice; to you, my dear, to myself, and this fine +young fellow who has stolen your heart. Let him show himself worthy of +you, and you have my blessing and my fortune." + +"Is he going soon?" + +"He is gone." + +The young woman knelt by her father's chair and bowed her head upon his +knee, quivering with grief. + +This stern man, who had humped himself and made a million, put a hand on +her head and said: + +"Ma-Mary"--and then choked up. + + +II + +The tent boy put a small white card down on General Dodge's desk one +morning, upon which was printed: + + J. BRADFORD, C.E. + +The General, who was at that time chief engineer in charge of the +construction of the first Pacific Railroad, turned the bit of pasteboard +over. It seemed so short and simple. He ran his eyes over a printed +list, alphabetically arranged, of directors, promoters, statesmen, +capitalists, and others who were in the habit of signing "letters of +recommendation" for young men who wanted to do something and begin well +up the ladder. + +There were no Bradfords. Burgess and Blodgett were the only B's, and the +General was glad. His desk was constantly littered with the "letters" of +tenderfeet, and his office-tent filled with their portmanteaus, holding +dress suits and fine linen. + +Here was a curiosity--a man with no press notices, no character, only +one initial and two chasers. + +"Show him in," said the General, addressing the one luxury his hogan +held. A few moments later the chief engineer was looking into the eye of +a young man, who returned the look and asked frankly, and without +embarrassment, for work with the engineers. + +"Impossible, young man--full up," was the brief answer. + +"Now," thought the General, "he'll begin to beat his breast and haul out +his 'pull.'" The young man only smiled sadly, and said, "I'm sorry. I +saw an 'ad' for men in the _Bee_ yesterday, and hoped to be in time," he +added, rising. + +"Men! Yes, we want men to drive mules and stakes, to grade, lay track, +and fight Indians--but engineers? We've got 'em to use for cross-ties." + +"I am able and willing to do any of these things--except the +Indians--and I'll tackle that if nothing else offers." + +"There's a man for you," said the General to his assistant as Bradford +went out with a note to Jack Casement, who was handling the graders, +teamsters, and Indian fighters. "No influential friends, no baggage, no +character, just a man, able to stand alone--a real man in corduroys and +flannels." + +Coming up to the gang, Bradford singled out the man who was swearing +loudest and delivered the note. "Fall in," said the straw boss, and +Bradford got busy. He could handle one end of a thirty-foot rail with +ease, and before night, without exciting the other workmen or making any +show of superiority, he had quietly, almost unconsciously, become the +leader of the track-laying gang. The foreman called Casement's +attention to the new man, and Casement watched him for five minutes. + +Two days later a big teamster, having found a bottle of fire-water, +became separated from his reasoning faculties, crowded under an old +dump-cart, and fell asleep. + +"Say, young fellow," said the foreman, panting up the grade to where +Bradford was placing a rail, "can you skin mules?" + +"I can drive a team, if that's what you mean," was the reply. + +"How many?" + +"Well," said Bradford, with his quiet smile, "when I was a boy I used to +drive six on the Montpelier stage." + +So he took the eight-mule team and amazed the multitude by hauling +heavier loads than any other team, because he knew how to handle his +whip and lines, and because he was careful and determined to succeed. +Whatever he did he did it with both hands, backed up by all the +enthusiasm of youth and the unconscious strength of an absolutely +faultless physique, and directed by a remarkably clear brain. When the +timekeeper got killed, Bradford took his place, for he could "read +writin'," an accomplishment rare among the laborers. When the bookkeeper +got drunk he kept the books, working overtime at night. + +In the rush and roar of the fight General Dodge had forgotten the young +man in corduroys until General Casement called his attention to the +young man's work. The engineers wanted Bradford, and Casement had +kicked, and, fearing defeat, had appealed to the chief. They sent for +Bradford. Yes, he was an engineer, he said, and when he said it they +knew it was true. He was quite willing to remain in the store department +until he could be relieved, but, naturally, he would prefer field work. + +He got it, and at once. Also, he got some Indian fighting. In less than +a year he was assigned to the task of locating a section of the line +west of the Platte. Coming in on a construction train to make his first +report, the train was held up, robbed, and burned by a band of Sioux. +Bradford and the train crew were rescued by General Dodge himself, who +happened to be following them with his "arsenal" car, and who heard at +Plumb Creek of the fight and of the last stand that Bradford and his +handful of men were making in the way car, which they had detached and +pushed back from the burning train. Such cool heroism as Bradford +displayed here could not escape the notice of so trained an Indian +fighter as General Dodge. Bradford was not only complimented, but was +invited into the General's private car. The General's admiration for the +young pathfinder grew as he received a detailed and comprehensive report +of the work being done out on the pathless plains. He knew the worth of +this work, because he knew the country, for he had spent whole months +together exploring it while in command of that territory, where he had +been purposely placed by General Sherman, without whose encouragement +the West could not have been known at that time, and without whose help +as commander-in-chief of the United States army the road could not have +been built. + +As the pathfinders neared the Rockies the troops had to guard them +constantly. The engineers reconnoitered, surveyed, located, and built +inside the picket lines. The men marched to work to the tap of the drum, +stacked arms on the dump, and were ready at a moment's notice to fall +in and fight. Many of the graders were old soldiers, and a little fight +only rested them. Indeed there was more military air about this work +than had been or has since been about the building of a railroad in this +country. It was one big battle, from the first stake west of Omaha to +the last spike at Promontory--a battle that lasted five long years; and +if the men had marked the graves of those who fell in that fierce fight +their monuments, properly distributed, might have served as mile-posts +on the great overland route to-day. But the mounds were unmarked, most +of them, and many there were who had no mounds, and whose home names +were never known even to their comrades. If this thing had been done on +British soil, and all the heroic deeds had been recorded and rewarded, a +small foundry could have been kept busy beating out V.C.'s. They could +not know, these silent heroes fighting far out in the wilderness, what a +glorious country they were conquering--what an empire they were opening +for all the people of the land. Occasionally there came to the men at +the front old, worn newspapers, telling wild stories of the failure of +the enterprise. At other times they heard of changes in the Board of +Directors, the election of a new President, tales of jobs and looting, +but they concerned themselves only with the work in hand. No breath of +scandal ever reached these pioneer trail-makers, or, if it did, it +failed to find a lodging-place, but blew by. Ample opportunity they had +to plunder, to sell supplies to the Indians or the Mormons, but no one +of the men who did the actual work of bridging the continent has ever +been accused of a selfish or dishonest act. + +During his second winter of service Bradford slept away out in the +Rockies, studying the snowslides and drifts. For three winters they did +this, and in summer they set stakes, keeping one eye out for Indians and +the other for wash-outs, and when, after untold hardships, privation, +and youth-destroying labor, they had located a piece of road, out of the +path of the slide and the washout, a well-groomed son of a politician +would come up from the Capital, and, in the capacity of Government +expert, condemn it all. Then strong men would eat their whiskers and the +weaker ones would grow blasphemous and curse the country that afforded +no facilities for sorrow-drowning. + +Once, at the end of a long, hard winter, when spring and the Sioux came, +they found Bradford and a handful of helpers just breaking camp in a +sheltered hollow in the hills. Hiding in the crags, the warriors waited +until Bradford went out alone to try to shoot a deer, and incidentally +to sound a drift, and then they surrounded him. He fought until his gun +was unloaded, and then emptied his revolver; but ever dodging and +crouching from tree to rock, the red men, whose country he and his +companions had invaded, came nearer and nearer. In a little while the +fight was hand to hand. There was not the faintest show for escape; to +be taken alive was to be tortured to death, so he fought on, clubbing +his revolver until a well-directed blow from a war club caught the gun, +sent it whirling through the top of a nearby cedar, and left the +pathfinder empty-handed. The chief sprang forward and lifted his hatchet +that had caused more than one paleface to bite the dust. For the +faintest fraction of a second it stood poised above Bradford's head, +then out shot the engineer's strong right arm, and the Indian lay flat +six feet away. + +For a moment the warriors seemed helpless with mingled awe and +admiration, but when Bradford stooped to grab his empty rifle they came +out of their trance. A dull blow, a sense of whirling round swiftly, a +sudden sunset, stars--darkness, and all pain had gone! + + +III + +When Bradford came to they were fixing him for the fun. His back was +against a tree, his feet pinioned, and his elbows held secure by a +rawhide rope. He knew what it meant. He knew by the look of joy on the +freshly smeared faces at his waking, by the pitch-pine wood that had +been brought up, and by the fagots at his feet. The big chief who had +felt his fist came up, grinning, and jabbed a buckhorn cactus against +the engineer's thigh, and when the latter tried to move out of reach +they all grunted and danced with delight. They had been uneasy lest the +white man might not wake. + +The sun, sailing westward in a burnished sea of blue, seemed to stand +still for a moment and then dropped down behind the range, as if to +escape from the hellish scene. The shadows served only to increase the +gloom in the heart of the captive. Glancing over his shoulder toward the +east, he observed that his captors had brought him down near to the edge +of the plain. Having satisfied themselves that their victim had plenty +of life left in him, the Indians began to arrange the fuel. With the +return of consciousness came an inexpressible longing to live. Suddenly +his iron will asserted itself, and appealing to his great strength, +surged until the rawhide ropes were buried in his flesh. Not for a +moment while he stood on his feet and fought them on the morning of that +day had hope entirely deserted him. Four years of hardship, of +privation, and adventure had so strengthened his courage that to give up +was to die. + +Presently, when he had exhausted his strength and sat quietly, the +Indians went on with the preliminaries. The gold in the west grew +deeper, the shadows in the foothills darker, as the moments sped. +Swiftly the captive's mind ran over the events of the past four years. +This was his first failure, and this was the end of it all--of the +years of working and waiting. + +Clenching his fists, he lifted his hot face to the dumb sky, but no +sound escaped from his parched and parted lips. Suddenly a light shone +on the semicircle of feather-framed faces in front of him, and he heard +the familiar crackling of burning boughs. Glancing toward the ground he +saw that the fagots were on fire. He felt the hot breath of flame, and +then for the first time realized what torture meant. Again he surged, +and surged again, the cedars crackled, the red fiends danced. Another +effort, the rawhide parted and he stood erect. With both hands freed he +felt new strength, new hope. He tried to free himself from the pyre, but +his feet were fettered, and he fell among his captors. Two or three of +them seized him, but he shook them off and stood up again. + +But it was useless. From every side the Indians rushed upon him and bore +him to the ground. Still he fought and struggled, and as he fought the +air seemed full of strange, wild sounds, of shouts and shots and +hoof-beating on the dry, hard earth. He seemed to see, as through a +veil, scores of Indians, Indians afoot and on horseback, naked Indians +and Indians in soldier clothes. Once he thought he saw a white face +gleam just as he got to his feet, but at that moment the big chief stood +before him, his battle-axe uplifted. The engineer's head was whirling. +Instinctively he tried to use the strong right arm, but it had lost its +cunning. The roar of battle grew apace, the axe descended, the left arm +went up and took the blow of the handle, but the edge of the weapon +reached over and split the white man's chin. As he fell heavily to the +earth the light went out again. + + * * * * * + +Save for the stars that stood above him it was still dark when Bradford +woke. He felt blankets beneath him, and asked in a whisper: "Who's +here?" + +"Major North, me call him," said the Pawnee scout, who was watching over +the wounded man. + +A moment later the gallant Major was leaning over Bradford, encouraging +him, assuring him that he was all right, but warning him of the danger +of making the least bit of noise. + + +IV + +With all his strength and pluck, it took time for Bradford to +recuperate. His next work was in Washington, where, with notes and maps, +his strong personality and logical arguments, he caused the Government +to overrule an expert who wanted to change an important piece of road, +and who had arbitrarily fixed the meeting of the mountains and plains +far up in the foothills.[1] + +When Bradford returned to the West he found that the whole country had +suddenly taken a great and growing interest in the transcontinental +line. Many of the leading newspapers had dug up their old war +correspondents and sent them out to the front. + +These gifted prevaricators found the plain, unvarnished story of each +day's work as much as they cared to send in at night, for the builders +were now putting down four and five miles of road every working day. +Such road building the world had never seen, and news of it now ran +round the earth. At night these tireless story-tellers listened to the +strange tales told by the trail-makers, then stole away to their tents +and wrote them out for the people at home, while the heroes of the +stories slept. + +The track-layers were now climbing up over the crest of the continent, +the locaters were dropping down the Pacific slope, with the prowling +pathfinders peeping over into the Utah Valley. Before the road reached +Salt Lake City the builders were made aware of the presence, power, and +opposition of Brigham Young. The head of the church had decreed that the +road must pass to the south of the lake, and as the Central Pacific had +surveyed a line that way, and General Dodge had declared in favor of the +northern route, the Mormons threw their powerful influence to the +Southern. The Union Pacific was boycotted, and all good Mormons +forbidden to aid the road in any way. + +Here, again, the chief engineer brought Bradford's diplomacy to bear on +Brigham and won him over. + +While the Union Pacific was building west, the Central Pacific had been +building east, and here, in the Salt Lake basin, the advance forces of +the two companies met. The United States Congress directed that the +rails should be joined wherever the two came together, but the bonus +($32,000 to the mile) left a good margin to the builders in the valley, +so, instead of joining the rails, the pathfinders only said "Howdy do!" +and then "Good-bye!" and kept going. The graders followed close upon the +heels of the engineers, so that by the time the track-layers met the two +grades paralleled each other for a distance of two hundred miles. When +the rails actually met, the Government compelled the two roads to couple +up. It had been a friendly contest that left no bad blood. Indeed they +were all willing to stop, for the iron trail was open from the Atlantic +to the Pacific. + + +V + +The tenth day of May, 1869, was the date fixed for the driving of the +last spike and the official opening of the line. Special trains, +carrying prominent railway and Government officials, were hurrying out +from the East, while up from the Golden Gate came another train +bringing the flower of 'Frisco to witness, and some of them to take an +active part in, the celebration. The day was like twenty-nine other May +days that month in the Salt Lake Valley, fair and warm, but with a cool +breeze blowing over the sagebrush. The dusty army of trail-makers had +been resting for two days, waiting for the people to come in clean store +clothes, to make speeches, to eat and drink, and drive the golden spike. +Some Chinese laborers had opened a temporary laundry near the camp, and +were coining money washing faded blue overalls for their white comrades. +Many of the engineers and foremen had dressed up that morning, and a few +had fished out a white shirt. Judah and Strawbridge, of the Central, had +little chips of straw hats that had been harvested in the summer of '65. +Here and there you saw a sombrero, the wide hat of the cowboy, and the +big, soft, shapeless head cover of the Mormon, with a little bunch of +whiskers on his chin. General Dodge came from his arsenal car, that +stood on an improvised spur, in a bright, new uniform. Of the special +trains, that of Governor Stanford was first to arrive, with its +straight-stacked locomotive and Celestial servants. Then the U.P. engine +panted up, with its burnished bands and balloon stack, that reminded you +of the skirts the women wore, save that it funnelled down. When the +ladies began to jump down, the cayuses of the cowboys began to snort and +side-step, for they had seen nothing like these tents the women stood up +in. + +Elaborate arrangements had been made for transmitting the news of the +celebration to the world. All the important telegraph offices of the +country were connected with Promontory, Utah, that day, so that the blow +of the hammer driving the last spike was communicated by the click of +the instrument to every office reached by the wires. From the Atlantic +to the Pacific the people were rejoicing and celebrating the event, but +the worn heroes who had dreamed it over and over for five years, while +they lay in their blankets with only the dry, hard earth beneath them, +seemed unable to realize that the work was really done and that they +could now go home, those who had homes to go to, eat soft bread, and +sleep between sheets. + +Out under an awning, made by stretching a blanket between a couple of +dump-carts, Bradford lay, reading a 'Frisco paper that had come by +Governor Stanford's special; but even that failed to hold his thoughts. +His heart was away out on the Atlantic coast, and he would be hurrying +that way on the morrow, the guest of the chief engineer. He had lost his +mother when a boy, and his father just a year previous to his +banishment, but he had never lost faith in the one woman he had loved, +and he had loved her all his life, for they had been playmates. Now all +this fuss about driving the last spike was of no importance to him. The +one thing he longed for, lived for, was to get back to "God's country." +He heard the speeches by Governor Stanford for the Central, and General +Dodge for the Union Pacific; heard the prayer offered up by the Rev. Dr. +Todd, of Pittsfield; heard the General dictate to the operator: + +"All ready," and presently the operator sang out the reply from the far +East: + +"All ready here!" and then the silver hammer began beating the golden +spike into the laurel tie, which bore a silver plate, upon which was +engraved: + + "The Last Tie + Laid in the Completion of the Pacific + Railroads. + May 10, 1869." + +After the ceremony there was handshaking among the men and some kissing +among the women, as the two parties--one from either coast--mingled, and +then the General's tent boy came under the blanket to call Bradford, for +the General wanted him at once. Somehow Bradford's mind flew back to his +first meeting with this boy. He caught the boy by the arms, held him +off, and looked at him. "Say, boy," he asked, "have I changed as much as +you have? Why, only the other day you were a freckled beauty in +high-water trousers. You're a man now, with whiskers and a busted lip. +Say, have I changed, too?" + +"Naw; you're just the same," said the boy. "Come now, the Gen's +waitin'." + +"Judge Manning," said General Dodge, in his strong, clear voice, "you +have been calling us 'heroes'; now I want to introduce the one hero of +all this heroic band--the man who has given of muscle and brain all that +a magnificent and brilliant young man could give, and who deserves the +first place on the roll of honor among the great engineers of our time." + +As the General pronounced the Judge's name Bradford involuntarily +clenched his fists and stepped back. The Judge turned slowly, looking +all the while at the General, thrilled by his eloquent earnestness, and +catching something of the General's admiration for so eminent a man. + +"Mr. Bradford," the General concluded, "this is Judge Manning, of +Boston, who came to our rescue financially and helped us to complete +this great work to which you have so bravely and loyally contributed." + +"Mr. _Bradford_, did you say?" + +"Well, yes. He's only Jim Bradford out here, where we are in a hurry, +but he'll be Mr. Bradford in Boston, and the biggest man in town when he +gets back." + +All nervousness had gone from Bradford, and he looked steadily into the +strong face before him. + +"Jim Bradford," the millionnaire repeated, still holding the engineer's +hand. + +"Yes, Judge Manning, I'm Jim Bradford," said the bearded pathfinder, +trying to smile and appear natural. + +Suddenly realizing that some explanation was due the General, the Judge +turned and said, but without releasing the engineer's hand: "Why, I know +this young man--knew his father. We were friends from boyhood." + +Slowly he returned his glance to Bradford. "Will you come into my car in +an hour from now?" he asked. + +"Thank you," said Bradford, nodding, and with a quick, simultaneous +pressure of hands, the two men parted. + + +VI + +Bradford has often since felt grateful to the Judge for that five years' +sentence, but never has he forgotten the happy thought that prompted the +capitalist to give him this last hour, in which to get into a fresh suit +and have his beard trimmed. Bradford wore a beard always now, not +because a handsome beard makes a handsome man handsomer, but because it +covered and hid the hideous scar in his chin that had been carved there +by the Sioux chief. + +When the black porter bowed and showed Bradford into Mr. Manning's +private car, the pleasure of their late meeting and the Judge's kindly +greeting vanished instantly. It was all submerged and swept away, +obliterated and forgotten in the great wave of inexpressible joy that +now filled and thrilled his throbbing heart, for it was Mary Manning who +came forward to greet him. For nearly an hour she and her father had +been listening to the wonderful story of the last five years of the +engineer's life. When the wily General caught the drift of the young +lady's mind, and had been informed of the conditional engagement of the +young people, he left nothing unsaid that would add to the fame and +glory of the trail-maker. With radiant face she heard of his heroism, +tireless industry, and wonderful engineering feats; but when the +narrator came to tell how he had been captured and held and tortured by +the Indians, she slipped her trembling hand into the hand of her +father, and when he saw her hot tears falling he lifted the hand and +kissed it, leaving upon it tears of his own. + +The Judge now produced his cigar case, and the General, bowing to the +young lady, followed the great financier to the other end of the car, +leaving Mary alone, for they had seen Bradford coming up the track. + +The dew of her sweet sorrow was still upon her face when Bradford +entered, but the sunshine of her smile soon dried it up. The hands he +reached for escaped him. They were about his face; then their great joy +and the tears it brought blinded them, and the wild beating of their +happy hearts drowned their voices so that they could neither see nor +hear, and neither has ever been able to say just what happened. + +On the day following this happy meeting, when the consolidated special +was rolling east-ward, while the Judge and the General smoked in the +latter's car, the tent boy brought a telegram back to the happy pair. It +was delivered to Miss Manning, and she read it aloud: + + "WASHINGTON, May 11, 1869. + + "GENERAL G.M. DODGE: + +"In common with millions I sat yesterday and heard the mystic taps of +the telegraph battery announce the nailing of the last spike in the +Great Pacific Road. All honor to you, to Durant, to Jack and Dan +Casement, to Reed and the thousands of brave followers who have wrought +out this glorious problem, spite of changes, storms, and even doubts of +the incredulous, and all the obstacles you have now happily surmounted! + + "W.T. SHERMAN, + + "_General_." + +"Well!" she exclaimed, letting her hands and the telegram fall in her +lap, "he doesn't even mention my hero." + +"Oh, yes, he does, my dear," said Bradford, laughing. "I'm one of the +'thousands of brave followers.'" + +Then they both laughed and forgot it, for they were too happy to bother +with trifles. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[Footnote 1: The subsidy from the Government was $16,000 a mile on the +plains, and $48,000 a mile in the mountains.] + + + + +THE BELLE OF ATHABASCA + + +Athabasca Belle did not burst upon Smith the Silent all at once, like a +rainbow or a sunrise in the desert. He would never say she had been +thrust upon him. She was acquired, he said, in an unguarded moment. + +The trouble began when Smith was pathfinding on the upper Athabasca for +the new transcontinental. Among his other assets Smith had two camp +kettles. One was marked with the three initials of the new line, which, +at that time, existed only on writing material, empty pots, and equally +empty parliamentary perorations. The other was not marked at all. It was +the personal property of Jaquis, who cooked for Smith and his outfit. +The Belle was a fine looking Cree--tall, strong, _magnifique_. Jaquis +warmed to her from the start, but the Belle was not for Jaquis, himself +a Siwash three to one. She scarcely looked at him, and answered him +only when he asked if she'd _encore_ the pork and beans. But she looked +at Smith. She would sit by the hour, her elbow on her knee and her chin +in her hand, watching him wistfully, while he drew crazy, crooked lines +or pictured mountains with rivers running between them--all of which, +from the Belle's point of view, was not only a waste of time, but had +absolutely nothing to do with the case. + +The Belle and her brown mother came to the camp of the Silent first one +glorious morn in the moon of August, with a basket of wild berries and a +pair of beaded moccasins. Smith bought both--the berries for Jaquis, out +of which he built strange pies, and the moccasins for himself. He called +them his night slippers, but as a matter of fact there was no night on +the Athabasca at that time. The day was divided into three shifts, one +long and two short ones,--daylight, dusk, and dawn. So it was daylight +when the Belle first fixed her large dark eyes upon the strong, handsome +face of Smith the Silent, as he sat on his camp stool, bent above a map +he was making. Belle's mother, being old in years and unafraid, came +close, looked at the picture for a moment, and exclaimed: "Him Jasper +Lake," pointing up the Athabasca. + +"You know Jasper Lake?" asked the engineer, glancing up for the first +time. + +"_Oui_," said the old woman (Belle's step-father was half French); "know +'im ver' well." + +Smith looked her over as a matter of habit, for he allowed no man or +woman to get by him with the least bit of information concerning the +country through which his imaginary line lay. Then he glanced at Belle +for fully five seconds, then back to his blue print. Nobody but a +he-nun, or a man already wedded to the woods, could do that, but to the +credit of the camp it will go down that the chief was the only man in +the outfit who failed to feel her presence. As for Jaquis, the alloyed +Siwash, he carried the scar of that first meeting for six months, and +may, for aught I know, take it with him to his little swinging grave. +Even Smith remembers to this day how she looked, standing there on her +two trim ankles, that disappeared into her hand-turned sandals or faded +in the flute and fringe of her fawn skin skirt. Her full bosom rose and +fell, and you could count the beat of her wild heart in the throb of +her throat. Her cheeks showed a faint flush of red through the dark +olive,--the flush of health and youth,--her nostrils dilated, like those +of an Ontario high-jumper, as she drank life from the dewy morn, while +her eye danced with the joy of being alive. Jaquis sized and summed her +up in the one word "magnific." But in that moment, when she caught the +keen, piercing eye of the engineer, the Belle had a stroke that comes +sooner or later to all these wild creatures of the wilderness, but comes +to most people but once in a lifetime. She never forgot the gleam of +that one glance, though the Silent one was innocent enough. + +It was during the days that followed, when she sat and watched him at +his work, or followed him for hours in the mountain fastnesses, that the +Belle of Athabasca lost her heart. + +When he came upon a bit of wild scenery and stopped to photograph it, +the Belle stood back of him, watching his every movement, and when he +passed on she followed, keeping always out of sight. + +The Belle's mother haunted him. As often as he broke camp and climbed a +little higher upstream, the brown mother moved also, and with her the +Belle. + +"What does this old woman want?" asked the engineer of Jaquis one +evening when, returning to his tent, he found the fat Cree and her +daughter camping on his trail. + +"She want that pot," said Jaquis. + +"Then for the love of We-sec-e-gea, god of the Crees," said Smith, "give +it into her hands and bid her begone." + +Jaquis did as directed, and the old Indian went away, but she left the +girl. + +The next day Smith started on a reconnoissance that would occupy three +or four days. As he never knew himself when he would return, he never +took the trouble to inform Jaquis, the tail of the family. + +After breakfast the Belle went over to her mother's. She would have +lunched with her mother from the much coveted kettle, but the Belle's +mother told her that she should return to the camp of the white man, who +was now her lord and master. So the Belle went back and lunched with +Jaquis, who otherwise must have lunched alone. Jaquis tried to keep her, +and wooed her in his half-wild way; but to her sensitive soul he was +repulsive. Moreover, she felt that in some mysterious manner her mother +had transferred her, together with her love and allegiance, to Smith the +Silent, and to him she must be true. Therefore she returned to the Cree +camp. + +As the sinking sun neared the crest of the Rockies, the young Indian +walked back to the engineer's camp. As she strode along the new trail +she plucked wildflowers by the wayside and gathered leaves and wove them +into vari-colored wreaths, swinging along with the easy grace of a wild +deer. + +Now some women would say she had not much to make her happy, but she was +happy nevertheless. She loved a man--to her the noblest, most god-like +creature of his kind,--and she was happy in abandoning herself to him. +She had lived in this love so long, had felt and seen it grow from +nothing to something formidable, then to something fine, until now it +filled her and thrilled her; it overspread everything, outran her +thoughts, brought the far-off mountains nearer, shortened the trail +between her camp and his, gave a new glow to the sunset, a new glory to +the dawn and a fresher fragrance to the wildflowers; the leaves +whispered to her, the birds came, nearer and sang sweeter; in short it +was her life--the sunshine of her soul. And that's the way a wild woman +loves. + +And she was to see him soon. Perhaps he would speak to her, or smile on +her. If only he gave a passing glance she would be glad and content to +know that he was near. Alas, he came not at all. She watched with the +stars through the short night, slept at dawn, and woke to find Jaquis +preparing the morning meal. She thought to question Jaquis, but her +interest in the engineer, and the growing conviction that his own star +sank as his master's rose, rendered him unsafe as a companion to a young +bride whose husband was in the hills and unconscious of the fact that he +was wedded to anything save the wilderness and his work. + +Jaquis not only refused to tell her where the engineer was operating, +but promised to strangle her if she mentioned his master's name again. + +At last the long day died, the sunset was less golden, and the stars +sang sadder than they sang the day before. She watched the west, into +which he had gone and out of which she hoped he might return to her. +Another round of dusk and dawn and there came another day, with its +hours that hung like ages. When she sighed her mother scolded and Jaquis +swore. When at last night came to curtain the hills, she stole out under +the stars and walked and walked until the next day dawned. A lone wolf +howled to his kith, but they were not hungry and refused to answer his +call. Often, in the dark, she fancied she heard faint, feline footsteps +behind her. Once a big black bear blocked her trail, staring at her with +lifted muzzle wet with dew and stained with berry juice. She did not +faint nor scream nor stay her steps, but strode on. Now nearer and +nearer came the muffled footsteps behind her. The black bear backed from +the trail and kept backing, pivoting slowly, like a locomotive on a +turntable, and as she passed on, stood staring after her, his small eyes +blinking in babylike bewilderment. And so through the dusk and dark and +dawn this love-mad maiden walked the wilderness, innocent of arms, and +with no one near to protect her save the little barefooted bowman whom +the white man calls the God of Love. + +Meanwhile away to the west, high in the hills, where the Findlay flowing +into the Pine makes the Peace, then cutting through the crest of the +continent makes a path for the Peace, Smith and his little army, +isolated, remote, with no cable connecting them with the great cities of +civilization, out of touch with the telegraph, away from the war +correspondent, with only the music of God's rills for a regimental band, +were battling bravely in a war that can end only with the conquest of a +wilderness. Ah, these be the great generals--these unheralded heroes +who, while the smoke of slaughter smudges the skies and shadows the sun, +wage a war in which they kill only time and space, and in the end, +without despoiling the rest of the world, win homes for the homeless. +These are the heroes of the Anglo-Saxon race. + + * * * * * + +Finding no trace of the trail-makers, the Belle faced the rising sun and +sought the camp of the Crees. + +The mysterious shadow with the muffled tread, that had followed her +from the engineer's camp, shrank back into the bush as she passed down +the trail. That was Jaquis. He watched her as she strode by him, +uncertain as to whether he loved or hated her, for well he knew why she +walked the wilderness all night alone. Now the Gitche in his unhappy +heart made him long to lift her in his arms and carry her to camp, and +then the bad god, Mitche, would assert himself and say to the savage +that was in him, "Go, kill her. She despises her race and flings herself +at the white man's feet." And so, impelled by passion and stayed by +love, he followed her. The white man within him made him ashamed of his +skulking, and the Indian that was in him guided him around her and home +by a shorter trail. + +That night the engineers returned, and when Smith saw the Cree in the +camp he jumped on Jaquis furiously. + +"Why do you keep this woman here?" he demanded. + +"I--keep? Me?" quoth Jaquis, blinking as bewildered as the black bear +had blinked at the Belle. + +"Who but you?--you heathen!" hissed the engineer. + +Now Jaquis, calling up the ghosts of his dead sires, asserted that it +was the engineer himself who was "keeping" the Cree. "You bought +her--she's yours," said Jaquis, in the presence of the company. + +"You ill-bred ----" Smith choked, and reached for a tent prop. The next +moment his hand was at the Indian's throat. With a quick twist of his +collar band he shut off the Siwash's wind, choking him to the earth. + +"What do you mean?" he demanded, and Jaquis, coughing, put up his hands. +"I meant no lie," said he. "Did you not give to her mother the camp +kettle? She has it, marked G.T.P." + +"And what of that?" + +"_Voila_," said Jaquis, "because of that she gave to you the Belle of +Athabasca." + +Smith dropped his stick, releasing the Indian. + +"I did not mean she is sold to you. She is trade--trade for the empty +pot, the Belle--the beautiful. From yesterday to this day she followed +you, far, very far, to the foot of the Grande Cote, and nothing harmed +her. The mountain lion looked on her in terror, the timber wolf took to +the hills, the black bear backed from the trail and let her pass in +peace," said Jaquis, with glowing enthusiasm. It was the first time he +had talked of her, save to the stars and to We-sec-e-gea, and he glowed +and grew eloquent in praise of her. + +"You take her," said Smith, with one finger levelled at the head of the +cook, "to the camp of the Crees. Say to her mother that your master is +much obliged for the beautiful gift, but he's too busy to get married +and too poor to support a wife." + + * * * * * + +From the uttermost rim of the ring of light that came from the +flickering fire la Belle the beautiful heard and saw all that had passed +between the two men. She did not throw herself at the feet of the white +man. Being a wild woman she did not weep nor cry out with the pain of +his words, that cut like cold steel into her heart. She leaned against +an aspen tree, stroking her throat with her left hand, swallowing with +difficulty. Slowly from her girdle she drew a tiny hunting-knife, her +one weapon, and toyed with it. She put the hilt to the tree, the point +to her bare breast, and breathed a prayer to We-sec-e-gea, god of the +Crees. She had only to throw the weight of her beautiful body on the +blade, sink without a moan to the moss, and pass, leaving the camp +undisturbed. + +Smith marked the faintest hint of sarcasm in the half smile of the +Indian as he turned away. + +"Come here," he cried. Jaquis approached cautiously. "Now, you skulking +son of a Siwash, this is to be skin for skin. If any harm comes to that +young Cree you go to your little hammock in the hemlocks--you +understand?" + +"_Oui, Monsieur_," said Jaquis. + +"Very well, then; remember--skin for skin." + +Now to the Belle, watching from her shelter in the darkness, there was +something splendid in this. To hear her praises sung by the Siwash, then +to have the fair god, who had heard that story, champion her, to take +the place of her protector, was all new to her. "Ah, good God," she +sighed; "it is better, a thousand times better, to love and lose him +than to waste one's life, never knowing this sweet agony." + +She felt in a vague way that she was soaring above the world and its +woes. At times, in the wild tumult of her tempestuous soul, she seemed +to be borne beyond it all, through beautiful worlds. Love, for her, had +taken on great white wings, and as he wafted her out of the wilderness +and into her heaven, his talons tore into her heart and hurt like hell, +yet she could rejoice because of the exquisite pleasure that surpassed +the pain. + +"Sweet We-sec-e-gea," she sighed, "good god of my dead, I thank thee for +the gift of this great love that stays the steel when my aching heart +yearns for it. I shall not destroy myself and distress him, disturbing +him in his great work, whatever it is; but live--live and love him, even +though he send me away." + +She kissed the burnished blade and returned it to her belt. + +When Jaquis, circling the camp, failed to find her, he guessed that she +was gone, and hurried after her along the dim, starlit trail. When he +had overtaken her, they walked on together. Jaquis tried now to renew +his acquaintance with the handsome Cree and to make love to her. She +heard him in absolute silence. Finally, as they were nearing the Cree +camp, he taunted her with having been rejected by the white man. + +"And my shame is yours," said she softly. "I love him; he sends me away. +You love me; I send you from me--it is the same." + +Jaquis, quieted by this simple statement, said good-night and returned +to the tents, where the pathfinders were sleeping peacefully under the +stars. + +And over in the Cree camp the Belle of Athabasca, upon her bed of +boughs, slept the sleep of the innocent, dreaming sweet dreams of her +fair god, and through them ran a low, weird song of love, and in her +dream Love came down like a beautiful bird and bore her out of this life +and its littleness, and though his talons tore at her heart and hurt, +yet was she happy because of the exquisite pleasure that surpassed all +pain. + + + + +PATHFINDING IN THE NORTHWEST + + +It was summer when my friend Smith, whose real name is Jones, heard that +the new transcontinental line would build by the way of Peace River Pass +to the Pacific. He immediately applied, counting something, no doubt, on +his ten years of field work in Washington, Oregon, and other western +states, and five years pathfinding in Canada. + +The summer died; the hills and rills and the rivers slept, but while +they slept word came to my friend Smith the Silent, and he hurriedly +packed his sleds and set out. + +His orders were, like the orders of Admiral Dewey, to do certain +things--not merely to try. He was to go out into the northern night +called winter, feel his way up the Athabasca, over the Smoky, follow the +Peace River, and find the pass through the Rockies. + +If the simple story of that winter campaign could be written out it +would be finer than fiction. But it will never be. Only Smith the +Silent knows, and he won't tell. + +Sometimes, over the pipe, he forgets and gives me glimpses into the +winter camp, with the sun going out like a candle: the hastily made camp +with the half-breed spotting the dry wood against the coming moment when +night would drop over the forest like a curtain over a stage; the +"lean-to" between the burning logs, where he dozes or dreams, barely +beyond the reach of the flames; the silence all about, Jaquis pulling at +his pipe, and the huskies sleeping in the snow like German babies under +the eiderdown. Sometimes, out of the love of bygone days, he tells of +long toilsome journeys with the sun hiding behind clouds out of which an +avalanche of snow falls, with nothing but the needle to tell where he +hides; of hungry dogs and half starved horses, and lakes and rivers +fifty and a hundred miles out of the way. + +Once, he told me, he sent an engineer over a low range to spy out a +pass. By the maps and other data they figured that he would be gone +three days, but a week went by and no word from the pathfinder. Ten days +and no news. On the thirteenth day, when Smith was preparing to go in +search of the wanderer, the running gear of the man and the framework of +the dogs came into camp. He was able to smile and say to Smith that he +had been ten days without food, save a little tea. For the dogs he had +had nothing. + +A few days rest and they were on the trail again, or on the "go" rather; +and you might know that disciple of Smith the Silent six months or six +years before he would, unless you worked him, refer to that ten days' +fast. They think no more of that than a Jap does of dying. It's all in +the day's work. + +Suddenly, Smith said, the sun swung north, the days grew longer. The sun +grew hot and the snow melted on the south hills; the hushed rivers, +rending their icy bonds, went roaring down to the Lakes and out towards +the Arctic Ocean. And lo, suddenly, like the falling of an Arctic night, +the momentary spring passed and it was summer time. + +Then it was that Smith came into Edmonton to make his first report, and +here we met for the first time for many snows. + +Joyously, as a boy kicks the cover off on circus morning, this Northland +flings aside her winter wraps and stands forth in her glorious garb of +summer. The brooklets murmur, the rivers sing, and by their banks and +along the lakes waterfowl frolic, and overhead glad birds, that seem to +have dropped from the sky, sing joyfully the almost endless song of +summer. At the end of the long day, when the sun, as if to make up for +its absence, lingers, loath to leave us in the twilight, beneath their +wings the song-birds hide their heads, then wake and sing, for the sun +is swinging up over the horizon where the pink sky, for an hour, has +shown the narrow door through which the day is dawning. + +The dogs and sleds have been left behind and now, with Jaquis the +half-breed "boy" leading, followed closely by Smith the Silent, we go +deeper and deeper each day into the pathless wilderness. + +To be sure it is not all bush, all forest. At times we cross wide +reaches of wild prairie lands. Sometimes great lakes lie immediately in +front of us, compelling us to change our course. Now we come to a wide +river and raft our outfit over, swimming our horses. Weeks go by and we +begin to get glimpses of the Rockies rising above the forest, and we +push on. The streams become narrower as we ascend, but swifter and more +dangerous. + +We do not travel constantly now, as we have been doing. Sometimes we +keep our camp for two or three days. The climbing is hard, for Smith +must get to the top of every peak in sight, and so I find it "good +hunting" about the camp. + +Jaquis is a fairly good cook, and what he lacks we make up with good +appetites, for we live almost constantly out under the sun and stars. + +Pathfinders always lay up on Sunday, and sometimes, the day being long, +Smith steals out to the river and comes back with a mountain trout as +long as a yardstick. + +The scenery is beyond description. Now we pass over the shoulder of a +mountain with a river a thousand feet below. Sometimes we trail for +hours along the shore of a limpid lake that seems to run away to the +foot of the Rockies. + +Far away we get glimpses of the crest of the continent, where the Peace +River gashes it as if it had been cleft by the sword of the Almighty; +and near the Rockies, on either bank, grand battlements rise that seem +to guard the pass as the Sultan's fortresses frown down on the +Dardanelles. + +Now we follow a narrow trail that was not a trail until we passed. A +careless pack-horse, carrying our blankets, slips from the path and goes +rolling and tumbling down the mountain side. A thousand feet below lies +an arm of the Athabasca. Down, down, and over and over the pack-horse +goes, and finally fetches up on a ledge five hundred feet below the +trail. "By damn," says Jaquis, "dere is won bronco bust, eh?" + +Smith and Jaquis go down to cut the cinches and save the pack, and lo, +up jumps our cayuse, and when he is repacked he takes the trail as good +as new. The pack and the low bush save his life. + +In any other country, to other men, this would be exciting, but it's all +in the day's work with Smith and Jaquis. + +The pack-pony that had been down the mountain is put in the lead +now--that is, in the lead of the pack animals; for he has learned his +lesson, he will be careful. And yet we are to have other experiences +along this same river. + +Suddenly, down a side canon, a mountain stream rushes, plunging into the +Athabasca, joyfully, like a sea-bather into the surf. Jaquis calls this +side-stream "the mill-tail o' hell." Smith the Silent prepares to cross. +It's all very simple. All you need is a stout pole, a steady nerve, and +an utter disregard for the hereafter. + +When Smith is safe on the other shore we drive the horses into the +stream. They shudder and shrink from the ice-cold water, but Jaquis and +I urge them, and in they plunge. My, what a struggle! Their wet feet on +the slippery boulders in the bottom of the stream, the swift current +constantly tripping them--it was thrilling to see and must have been +agony for the animals. + +Midway, where the current was strongest, a mouse-colored cayuse carrying +a tent lost his feet. The turbulent tide slammed him up on top of a +great rock, barely hidden beneath the water, and he got to his feet like +a cat that has fallen upon the edge of an eave-trough. Trembling, the +cayuse called to Smith, and Smith, running downstream, called back, +urging the animal to leave the refuge and swim for it. The pack-horse +perched on the rock gazes wistfully at the shore. The waters, breaking +against his resting-place, wash up to his trembling knees. About him the +wild river roars, and just below leaps over a ten-foot fall into the +Athabasca. + +All the other horses, having crossed safely, shake the water from their +dripping sides and begin cropping the tender grass. We could have heard +that horse's heart beat if we could have hushed the river's roar. + +Smith called again, the cayuse turned slightly, and whether he leaped +deliberately or his feet slipped on the slippery stones, forcing him to +leap, we could not say, but he plunged suddenly into the stream, +uttering a cry that echoed up the canon and over the river like the cry +of a lost soul. + +The cruel current caught him, lifted him, and plunged him over the drop, +and he was lost instantly in the froth and foam of the falls. + +Far down, at a bend of the Athabasca, something white could be seen +drifting towards the shore. That night Smith the Silent made an entry in +his little red book marked "Grand Trunk Pacific," and tented under the +stars. + + + + +THE CURE'S CHRISTMAS GIFT + + "A country that is bad or good, + Precisely as your claim pans out; + A land that's much misunderstood, + Misjudged, maligned and lied about." + + +When the pathfinders for the New National Highway pushed open the side +door and peeped through to the Pacific they not only discovered a short +cut to Yokohama, but opened to the world a new country, revealing the +last remnant of the Last West. + +Edmonton is the outfiling point, of course, but Little Slave Lake is the +real gateway to the wilderness. Here we were to make our first stop (we +were merely exploring), and from this point our first portage was to the +Peace River, at Chinook, where we would get into touch once more with +the Hudson's Bay Company. + +Jim Cromwell, the free trader who was in command of Little Slave, made +us welcome, introducing us _ensemble_ to his friend, a former H.B. +factor, to the Yankee who was looking for a timber limit, to the +"Literary Cuss," as he called the young man in corduroys and a wide +white hat, who was endeavoring to get past "tradition," that has damned +this Dominion both in fiction and in fact for two hundred years, and do +something that had in it the real color of the country. + +At this point the free trader paused to assemble the Missourian. This +iron-gray individual shook himself out, came forward, and gripped our +hands, one after another. + +The free trader would not allow us to make camp that night. We were +sentenced to sup and lodge with him, furnishing our own bedding, of +course, but baking his bread. + +The smell of cooking coffee and the odor of frying fish came to us from +the kitchen, and floating over from somewhere the low, musical, well +modulated voice of Cromwell, conversing in Cree, as he moved about among +his mute and apparently inoffensive camp servants. + +The day died hard. The sun was still shining at 9 P.M. At ten +it was twilight, and in the dusk we sat listening to tales of the far +North, totally unlike the tales we read in the story-books. Smith the +Silent, who was in charge of our party, was interested in the country, +of course, its physical condition, its timber, its coal, and its mineral +possibilities. He asked about its mountains and streams, its possible +and impossible passes; but the "Literary Cuss" and I were drinking +deeply of weird stories that were being told quite incautiously by the +free trader, the old factor, and by the Missourian. We were like +children, this young author and I, sitting for the first time in a +theatre. The flickering camp fire that we had kindled in the open served +as a footlight, while the Gitch Lamp, still gleaming in the west, +glanced through the trees and lit up the faces of the three great actors +who were entertaining us without money and without price. The Missourian +was the star. He had been reared in the lap of luxury, had run away from +college where he had been installed by a rich uncle, his guardian, and +jumped down to South America. He had ridden with the Texas Rangers and +with President Diaz's Regulators, had served as a scout on the plains +and worked with the Mounted Police, but was now "retired." + +All of which we learned not from him directly, but from the stories he +told and from his bosom friend, the free trader, whose guests we were, +and whose word, for the moment at least, we respected. + +The camp fire burned down to a bed of coals, the Gitch Lamp went out. In +the west, now, there was only a glow of gold, but no man moved. + +Smith the Pathfinder and our host the free trader bent over a map. "But +isn't this map correct?" Smith would ask, and when in doubt Jim would +call the Missourian. "No," said the latter, "you can't float down that +river because it flows the other way, and that range of mountains is two +hundred miles out." + +Gradually we became aware that all this vast wilderness, to the world +unknown, was an open book to this quiet man who had followed the buffalo +from the Rio Grande to the Athabasca where he turned, made a last stand, +and then went down. + +When the rest had retired the free trader and I sat talking of the Last +West, of the new trail my friends were blazing, and of the wonderfully +interesting individual whom we called the Missourian. + +"He had a prospecting pard," said Jim, "whom he idolized. This man, +whose name was Ramsey, Jack Ramsey, went out in '97 between the Coast +Range and the Rockies, and now this sentimental old pioneer says he will +never leave the Peace River until he finds Ramsey's bones. + +"You see," Cromwell continued, "friendship here and what goes for +friendship outside are vastly different. The matter of devoting one's +life to a friend or to a duty, real or fancied, is only a trifle to +these men who abide in the wilderness. I know of a Chinaman and a Cree +who lived and died the most devoted friends. You see the Missourian +hovering about the last camping-place of his companion. Behold the +factor! He has left the Hudson Bay Company after thirty years because he +has lost his life's best friend, a man who spoke another language, whose +religion was not the brand upon which the factor had been brought up in +England; yet they were friends." + +The camp fire had gone out. In the south we saw the first faint flush +of dawn as Cromwell, knocking the ashes from his pipe, advised me to go +to bed. "You get the old factor to tell you the story of his friend the +cure, and of the cure's Christmas gift," Cromwell called back, and I +made a point of getting the story, bit by bit, from the florid factor +himself, and you shall read it as it has lingered in my memory. + +When the new cure came to Chinook on the Upper Peace River, he carried a +small hand-satchel, his blankets, and a crucifix. His face was drawn, +his eyes hungry, his frame wasted, but his smile was the smile of a man +at peace with the world. The West--the vast, undiscovered Canadian +West--jarred on the sensitive nerves of this Paris-bred priest. And yet, +when he crossed the line that marks what we are pleased to call +"civilization," and had reached the heart of the real Northwest, where +the people were unspoiled, natural, and honest, where a handful of Royal +Northwest Mounted Police kept order in an empire that covers a quarter +of a continent, he became deeply interested in this new world, in the +people, in the imperial prairies, the mountains, and the great wide +rivers that were racing down to the northern sea. + +The factor at the Hudson's Bay post, whose whole life since he had left +college in England had been passed on the Peace River, at York Factory, +and other far northern stations over which waved the Hudson's Bay +banner, warmed to the new cure from their first meeting, and the cure +warmed to him. Each seemed to find in the other a companion that neither +had been able to find among the few friends of his own faith. + +And so, through the long evenings of the northern winter, they sat in +the cure's cabin study or by the factor's fire, and talked of the things +which they found interesting, including politics, literature, art, and +Indians. Despite the great gulf that rolled between the two creeds in +which they had been cradled, they found that they were in accord three +times in five--a fair average for men of strong minds and inherent +prejudices. At first the cure was anxious to get at the real work of +"civilizing" the natives. + +"Yes," the factor would say, blowing the smoke upward, "the Indian +should be civilized--slowly--the slower the better." + +The cure would pretend to look surprised as he relit his pipe. Once the +cure asked the factor why he was so indifferent to the welfare of the +Crees, who were the real producers, without whose furs there would be no +trade, no post, no job for the ruddy-faced factor. The priest was +surprised that the factor should appear to fail to appreciate the +importance of the trapper. + +"I do," said the factor. + +"Then why do you not help us to lift him to the light?" + +"I like him," was the laconic reply. + +"Then why don't you talk to him of his soul?" + +"Haven't the nerve," said the factor, shaking his head and blowing more +smoke. + +The cure shrugged his shoulders. + +"I say," said the florid factor, facing the pale priest. "Did you see me +decorating the old chief, Dunraven, yesterday?" + +"Yes, I presume you were giving him a _pour boire_ in advance to secure +the greater catch of furs next season," said the priest, with his usual +sad yet always pleasant smile. + +"A very poor guess for one so wise," said the factor. "_Attendez_," he +continued. "This post used to be closed always in winter. The tent doors +were tied fast on the inside, after which the man who tied them would +crawl out under the edge of the canvas. When winter came, the snow, +banked about, held the tent tightly down, and the Hudson's Bay business +was bottled at this point until the springless summer came to wake the +sleeping world. + +"Last winter was a hard winter. The snow was deep and game scarce. One +day a Cree Indian found himself in need of tea and tobacco, and more in +need of a new pair of trousers. Passing the main tent one day, he was +sorely tempted. Dimly, through the parchment pane, he could see great +stacks of English tweeds, piles of tobacco, and boxes of tea, but the +tent was closed. He was sorely tried. He was hungry--hungry for a horn +of tea and a twist of the weed, and cold, too. Ah, _bon pere_, it is +hard to withstand cold and hunger with only a canvas between one and the +comforts of life!" + +"_Oui, Monsieur!_" said the cure, warmly, touched by the pathos of the +tale. + +"The Indian walked away (we know that by his footprints), but returned +to the tent. The hunger and the cold had conquered. He took his +hunting-knife and slit the deerskin window and stepped inside. Then he +approached the pile of tweed trousers and selected a large pair, putting +down from the bunch of furs he had on his arms to the value of eight +skins--the price his father and grandfather had paid. He visited the +tobacco pile and helped himself, leaving four skins on the tobacco. When +he had taken tea he had all his heart desired, and having still a number +of skins left, he hung them upon a hook overhead and went away. + +"When summer dawned and a clerk came to open the post, he saw the slit +in the window, and upon entering the tent saw the eight skins on the +stack of tweeds, the four skins on the tobacco, and the others on the +chest, and understood. + +"Presently he saw the skins which the Indian had hung upon the hook, +took them down, counted them carefully, appraised them, and made an +entry in the Receiving Book, in which he credited +'Indian-cut-the-window, 37 skins.' + +"Yesterday Dunraven came to the post and confessed. + +"It was to reward him for his honesty that I gave him the fur coat and +looped the big brass baggage check in his buttonhole. _Voila!_" + +The cure crossed his legs and then recrossed them, tossed his head from +side to side, drummed upon the closed book which lay in his lap, and +showed in any number of ways, peculiar to nervous people, his amazement +at the story and his admiration for the Indian. + +"Little things like that," said the factor, filling his pipe, "make me +timid when talking to a Cree about 'being good.'" + + * * * * * + +When summer came, and with it the smell of flowers and the music of +running streams, the factor and his friend the cure used to take long +tramps up into the highlands, but the cure's state of health was a +handicap to him. The factor saw the telltale flush in the priest's face +and knew that the "White Plague" had marked him; yet he never allowed +the cure to know that he knew. That summer a little river steamer was +sent up from Athabasca Lake by the Chief Commissioner who sat in the +big office at Winnipeg, and upon this the factor and his friend took +many an excursion up and down the Peace. The friendship that had grown +up between the factor and the new cure formed the one slender bridge +that connected the Anglican and the Catholic camps. Even the "heathen +Crees" marvelled that these white men, praying to the same God, should +dwell so far apart. Wing You, who had wandered over from Ramsay's Camp +on the Pine River, explained it all to Dunraven: "Flenchman and +Englishman," said Wing. "No ketchem same Glod. You--Clee," continued the +wise Oriental, "an' Englishman good flend--ketchem same Josh; you call +'im We-sec-e-gea, white man call 'im God." + +And so, having the same God, only called by different names, the Crees +trusted the factor, and the factor trusted the Crees. Their business +intercourse was on the basis of skin for skin, furs being the recognized +coin of the country. + +"Why do you not pay them in cash, take cash in turn, and let them have +something to rattle?" asked the cure one day. + +"They won't have it," said the factor. "Silver Skin, brother to +Dunraven, followed a party of prospectors out to Edmonton last fall and +tried it. He bought a pair of gloves, a red handkerchief, and a pound of +tobacco, and emptied his pockets on the counter, so that the clerk in +the shop might take out the price of the goods. According to his own +statement, the Indian put down $37.80. He took up just six-thirty-five. +When the Cree came back to God's country he showed me what he had left +and asked me to check him up. When I had told him the truth, he walked +to the edge of the river and sowed the six-thirty-five broadcast on the +broad bosom of the Peace." + +And so, little by little, the patient priest got the factor's +view-point, and learned the great secret of the centuries of success +that has attended the Hudson's Bay Company in the far North. + +And little by little the two men, without preaching, revealed to the +Indians and the Oriental the mystery of Life--vegetable life at +first--of death and life beyond. They showed them the miracle of the +wheat. + +On the first day of June they put into a tiny grave a grain of wheat. +They told the Blind Ones that the berry would suffer death, decay, but +out of that grave would spring fresh new flags that would grow and blow, +fanned by the balmy chinook winds, and wet by the dews of heaven. + +On the first day of September they harvested seventy-two stalks and +threshed from the seventy-two stalks seven thousand two hundred grains +of wheat. They showed all this to the Blind Ones and they saw. The cure +explained that we, too, would go down and die, but live again in another +life, in a fairer world. + +The Cree accepted it all in absolute silence, but the Oriental, with his +large imagination, exclaimed, pointing to the tiny heap of golden grain: +"Me ketchem die, me sleep, byme by me wake up in China--seven +thousand--heap good." The cure was about to explain when the factor put +up a warning finger. "Don't cut it too fine, father," said he. "They're +getting on very well." + +That was a happy summer for the two men, working together in the garden +in the cool dawn and chatting in the long twilight that lingers on the +Peace until 11 P.M. Alas! as the summer waned the factor saw +that his friend was failing fast. He could walk but a short distance now +without resting, and when the red rose of the Upper Athabasca caught the +first cold kiss of Jack Frost, the good priest took to his bed. Wing +You, the accomplished cook, did all he could to tempt him to eat and +grow strong again. Dunraven watched from day to day for an opportunity +to "do something"; but in vain. The faithful factor made daily visits to +the bedside of his sick friend. As the priest, who was still in the +springtime of his life, drew nearer to the door of death, he talked +constantly of his beloved mother in far-off France--a thing unusual for +a priest, who is supposed to burn his bridges when he leaves the world +for the church. + +Often when he talked thus, the factor wanted to ask his mother's name +and learn where she lived, but always refrained. + +Late in the autumn the factor was called to Edmonton for a general +conference of all the factors in the employ of the Honorable Company of +gentlemen adventurers trading into Hudson's Bay. With a heavy heart he +said good-bye to the failing priest. + +When he had come within fifty miles of Chinook, on the return trip, he +was wakened at midnight by Dunraven, who had come out to ask him to +hurry up as the cure was dying, but wanted to speak to the factor first. + +Without a word the Englishman got up and started forward, Dunraven +leading on the second lap of his "century." + +It was past midnight again when the _voyageurs_ arrived at the river. +There was a dim light in the cure's cabin, to which Dunraven led them, +and where the Catholic bishop and an Irish priest were on watch. "So +glad to see you," said the bishop. "There is something he wants from +your place, but he will not tell Wing. Speak to him, please." + +"Ah, _Monsieur_, I'm glad that you are come--I'm weary and want to be +off." + +"The long _traverse_, eh?" + +"_Oui, Monsieur_--_le grand voyage_." + +"Is there anything I can do for you?" asked the Englishman. The dying +priest made a movement as if hunting for something. The bishop, to +assist, stepped quickly to his side. The patient gave up the quest of +whatever he was after and looked languidly at the factor. "What is it, +my son?" asked the bishop, bending low. "What would you have the factor +fetch from his house?" + +"Just a small bit of cheese," said the sick man, sighing wearily. + +"Now, that's odd," mused the factor, as he went off on his strange +errand. + +When the Englishman returned to the cabin, the bishop and the priest +stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. Upon a bench on the narrow +veranda Dunraven sat, resting after his hundred-mile tramp, and on the +opposite side of the threshold Wing You lay sleeping in his blankets, so +as to be in easy call if he were wanted. + +When the two friends were alone, the sick man signalled, and the factor +drew near. + +"I have a great favor--a very great favor to ask of you," the priest +began, "and then I'm off. Ah, _mon Dieu!_" he panted. "It has been hard +to hold out. Jesus has been kind." + +"It's damned tough at your time, old fellow," said the factor, huskily. + +"It's not my time, but His." + +"Yes--well I shall be over by and by." + +"And those faithful dogs--Dunraven and Wing--thank them for--" + +"Sure! If _I_ can pass," the factor broke in, a little confused. + +"Thank them for me--for their kindnesses--and care. Tell them to +remember the sermon of the wheat. And now, good friend," said the +priest, summoning all his strength, "_attendez_!" + +He drew a thin, white hand from beneath the cover, carrying a tiny +crucifix. "I want you to send this to my beloved mother by registered +post; send it yourself, please, so that she may have it before the end +of the year. This will be my last Christmas gift to her. And the one +that comes from her to me--that is for you, to keep in remembrance of +me. And write to her--oh, so gently tell her--Jesus--help me," he +gasped, sitting upright. "She lives in Rue ---- O Mary, Mother of Jesus," +he cried, clutching at the collar of his gown; and then he fell back +upon his bed, and his soul swept skyward like a toy balloon when the +thin thread snaps. + +When the autumn sun smiled down on Chinook and the autumn wind sighed in +by the door and out by the open window where the dead priest lay, Wing +and Dunraven sat on the rude bench in the little veranda, going over it +all, each in his own tongue, but uttering never a word, yet each to the +other expressing the silence of his soul. + +The factor, in the seclusion of his bachelor home, held the little cross +up and examined it critically. "To be sent to his mother, she lives in +Rue ---- Ah, if I could have been but a day sooner; yet the bishop must +know," he added, putting the crucifix carefully away. + +The good people in the other world, beyond the high wall that separated +the two Christian Tribes, had been having shivers over the factor and +his fondness for the Romans; but when he volunteered to assist at the +funeral of his dead friend, _his_ people were shocked. In that scant +settlement there were not nearly enough priests to perform, properly, +the funeral services, so the factor fell in, mingling his deep full +voice with the voices of the bishop and the Irish brother, and grieving +even as they grieved. + +And the Blind Ones, Wing and Dunraven, came also, paying a last tearless +tribute to the noble dead. + +When it was all over and the post had settled down to routine, the +factor found in his mail, one morning, a long letter from the Chief +Commissioner at Winnipeg. It told the factor that he was in bad repute, +that the English Church bishop had been grieved, shocked, and +scandalized through seeing the hitherto respectable factor going over to +the Catholics. Not only had he fraternized with them, but had actually +taken part in their religious ceremonies. And to crown it all, he had +carried, a respectable Cree and the Chinese cook along with him. + +The factor's placid face took on a deep hue, but only for a moment. He +filled his pipe, poking the tobacco down hard with his thumb. Then he +took the Commissioner's letter, twisted it up, touched it to the tiny +fire that blazed in the grate, and lighted his pipe. He smoked in +silence for a few moments and then said to himself, being alone, "Huh!" + +"Ah, that from the bishop reminds me," said the factor. "I must run +over and see the other one." + +When the factor had related to the French-Canadian bishop what had +passed between the dead cure and himself, the bishop seemed greatly +annoyed. "Why, man, he had no mother!" + +"The devil he didn't--I beg pardon--I say he asked me to send this to +his mother. He started to tell me where she lived and then the call +came. It was the dying request of a dear friend. I beg of you tell me +his mother's name, that I may keep my word." + +"It is impossible, my son. When he came into the church he left the +world. He was bound by the law of the church to give up father, mother, +sister, brother--all." + +"The church be--do you mean to say--" + +"Peace, my son, you do not understand," said the bishop, lifting the +little cross which he had taken gently from the factor at the beginning +of the interview. + +Now the factor was not in the habit of having his requests ignored and +his judgment questioned. + +"Do you mean to say you will _not_ give me the name and address of the +dead man's mother?" + +"It's absolutely impossible. Moreover, I am shocked to learn that our +late brother could so far forget his duty at the very door of death. No, +son, a thousand times no," said the bishop. + +"Then give me the crucifix!" demanded the factor, fiercely. + +"That, too, is impossible; that is the property of the church." + +"Well," said the factor, filling his pipe again and gazing into the +flickering fire, "they're all about the same. And they're all right, +too, I presume--all but Wing and Dunraven and me." + + + + +THE MYSTERIOUS SIGNAL + + +As Waterloo lingered in the memory of the conquered Corsican, so +Ashtabula was burned into the brain of Bradish. Out of that awful wreck +he crawled, widowed and childless. For a long time he did not realize, +for his head was hurt in that frightful crash. + +By the time he was fit to leave the hospital they had told him, little +by little, that all his people had perished. + +He made his way to the West, where he had a good home and houses to rent +and a hole in the hillside that was just then being changed from a +prospect to a mine. + +The townspeople, who had heard of the disaster, waited for him to speak +of it--but he never did. The neighbors nodded, and he nodded to them and +passed on about his business. The old servant came and asked if she +should open the house, and he nodded. The man-servant--the woman's +husband--came also, and to him Bradish nodded; and at noon he had +luncheon alone in the fine new house that had just been completed a year +before the catastrophe. + +About once a week Bradish would board the midnight express, ride down +the line for a few hundred miles, and double back. + +When he went away they knew he had gone, and when he came back they knew +he had returned and that was as much as his house-keeper, his agent, or +the foreman at the mines could tell you. + +One would have thought that the haunting memory of Ashtabula would have +kept him at home for the rest of his life; but he seemed to travel for +the sake of the ride only, or for no reason, as a deaf man walks on the +railroad-track. + +Gradually he extended his trips, taking the Midland over into Utah; and +once or twice he had been seen on the rear end of the California Limited +as it dropped down the western water-shed of Raton Range. + +One night, when the Limited was lapping up the landscape and the Desert +was rushing in under her pilot and streaking out below the last sleeper +like tape from a ticker, the danger signal sounded in the engine cab, +the air went on full, the passengers braced themselves against the seats +in front of them, or held their breath in their berths as the train came +to a dead stop. + +The conductor and the head man hurried forward shouting, "What's the +matter?" to the engineer. + +The driver, leaning from his lofty window, asked angrily, "What in +thunder's the matter with you? I got a stop signal from behind." + +"You'd better lay off and have a good sleep," said the conductor. + +"I'll put you to sleep for a minute if you ever hint that I was not +awake coming down Canon Diablo," shouted the engineer, releasing his +brakes. As the long, heavy train glided by, the trainmen swung up like +sailors, and away went the Limited over the long bridge, five minutes to +the bad. + +A month later the same thing happened on the East end. The engineer was +signalled and stopped on a curve with the point of his pilot on a high +bridge. + +This time the captain and the engineer were not so brittle of temper. +They discussed the matter, calling on the fireman, who had heard +nothing, being busy in the coal-tank. + +The head brakeman, crossing himself, said it was the "unseen hand" that +had been stopping the Limited on the Desert. It might be a warning, he +said, and walked briskly out on the bridge looking for dynamite, ghosts, +and things. + +When he had reached the other end of the bridge, he gave the go-ahead +signal and the train pulled out. As they had lost seven minutes, it was +necessary for the conductor to report "cause of delay;" and that was the +first hint the officials of any of the Western lines had of the "unseen +hand." + +Presently trainmen, swapping yarns at division stations, heard of the +mysterious signal on other roads. + +The Columbia Limited, over on the Short Line, was choked with her head +over Snake River, at the very edge of Pendleton. When they had pulled in +and a fresh crew had taken the train on, the in-coming captain and his +daring driver argued over the incident and they each got ten days,--not +for the delay, but because they could not see to sign the call-book next +morning and were not fit to be seen by other people. + +The next train stopped was the International Limited on the Grand Trunk, +then the Sunset by the South Coast. + +The strange phenomenon became so general that officials lost patience. +One road issued an order to the effect that any engineer who heard +signals when there were no signals should get thirty days for the first +and his time for the second offence. + +Within a week from the appearance of the unusual and unusually offensive +bulletin, "Baldy" Hooten heard the stop signal as he neared a little +Junction town where his line crossed another on an overhead bridge. + +When the signal sounded, the fireman glanced over at the driver, who +dived through the window up to his hip pockets. + +When the engine had crashed over the bridge, the driver pulled himself +into the cab again, and once more the signal. The fireman, amazed, +stared at the engineer. The latter jerked the throttle wide open; seeing +which, the stoker dropped to the deck and began feeding the hungry +furnace. Ten minutes later the Limited screamed for a regular stop, ten +miles down the line. As the driver dropped to the ground and began +touching the pins and links with the back of his bare hand, to see if +they were all cool, the head brakeman trotted forward whispering +hoarsely, "The ol' man's aboard." + +The driver waved him aside with his flaring torch, and up trotted the +blue-and-gold conductor with his little silver white-light with a +frosted flue. "Why didn't you stop at Pee-Wee Junction?" he hissed. + +"Is Pee-Wee a stop station?" + +"On signal." + +"I didn't see no sign." + +"_I_ pulled the bell." + +"Go on now, you ghost-dancer," said the engineer. + +"You idiot!" gasped the exasperated conductor. "Don't you know the old +man's on, that he wanted to stop at Pee-Wee to meet the G.M. this +morning, that a whole engineering outfit will be idle there for half a +day, and you'll get the guillotine?" + +"Whew, you have _shore_ got 'em." + +"Isn't your bell working?" asked a big man who had joined the group +under the cab window. + +"I think so, sir," said the driver, as he recognized the superintendent. +"Johnny, try that cab bell," he shouted, and the fire-boy sounded the +big brass gong. + +"Why didn't you take it at Pee-Wee?" asked the old man, holding his +temper beautifully. + +The driver lifted his torch and stared almost rudely into the face of +the official in front of him. "Why, Mr. Skidum," said he slowly, "I +didn't hear no signal." + +The superintendent was blocked. + +As he turned and followed the conductor into the telegraph office, the +driver, gloating in his high tower of a cab, watched him. + +"He's an old darling," said he to the fire-boy, "and I'm ready to die +for him any day; but I can't stop for him in the face of bulletin 13. +Thirty days for the first offence, and then fire," he quoted, as he +opened the throttle and steamed away, four minutes late. + +The old man drummed on the counter-top in the telegraph office, and then +picked up a pad and wrote a wire to his assistant:-- + +"Cancel general order No. 13." + +The night man slipped out in the dawn and called the day man who was the +station master, explaining that the old man was at the station and +evidently unhappy. + +The agent came on unusually early and endeavored to arrange for a light +engine to carry the superintendent back to the Junction. + +At the end of three hours they had a freight engine that had left its +train on a siding thirty miles away and rolled up to rescue the stranded +superintendent. + +Now, every railway man knows that when one thing goes wrong on a +railroad, two more mishaps are sure to follow; so, when the rescuing +crew heard over the wire that the train they had left on a siding, +having been butted by another train heading in, had started back down +grade, spilled over at the lower switch, and blocked the main line, they +began to expect something to happen at home. + +However, the driver had to go when the old man was in the cab and the +G.M. with a whole army of engineers and workmen waiting for him at +Pee-Wee; so he rattled over the switches and swung out on the main line +like a man who was not afraid. + +Two miles up the road the light engine, screaming through a cut, +encountered a flock of sheep, wallowed through them, left the track, and +slammed the four men on board up against the side of the cut. + +Not a bone was broken, though all of them were sore shaken, the engineer +being unconscious when picked up. + +"Go back and report," said the old man to the conductor. "You look after +the engineer," to the fireman. + +"Will you flag west, sir?" asked the conductor. + +"Yes,--I'll flag into Pee-Wee," said the old man, limping down the line. + +To be sure, the superintendent was an intelligent man and not the least +bit superstitious; but he couldn't help, as he limped along, connecting +these disasters, remotely at least, with general order No. 13. + +In time the "unseen signal" came to be talked of by the officials as +well as by train and enginemen. It came up finally at the annual +convention of General Passenger Agents at Chicago and was discussed by +the engineers at Atlanta, but was always ridiculed by the eastern +element. + +"I helped build the U.P.," said a Buffalo man, "and I want to tell you +high-liners you can't drink squirrel-whiskey at timber-line without +seein' things nights." + +That ended the discussion. + +Probably no road in the country suffered from the evil effects of the +mysterious signal as did the Inter-Mountain Air Line. + +The regular spotters failed to find out, and the management sent to +Chicago for a real live detective who would not be predisposed to accept +the "mystery" as such, but would do his utmost to find the cause of a +phenomenon that was not only interrupting traffic but demoralizing the +whole service. + +As the express trains were almost invariably stopped at night, the +expert travelled at night and slept by day. Months passed with only two +or three "signals." These happened to be on the train opposed to the +one in which the detective was travelling at that moment. They brought +out another man, and on his first trip, taken merely to "learn the +road," the train was stopped in broad daylight. This time the stop +proved to be a lucky one; for, as the engineer let off the air and +slipped round a curve in a canon, he found a rock as big as a box car +resting on the track. + +The detective was unable to say who sounded the signal. The train crew +were overawed. They would not even discuss the matter. + +With a watchman, unknown to the trainmen, on every train, the officials +hoped now to solve the mystery in a very short time. + +The old engineer, McNally, who had found the rock in the canon, had +boasted in the lodge-room, in the round-house and out, that if ever he +got the "ghost-sign," he'd let her go. Of course he was off his guard +this time. He had not expected the "spook-stop" in open day. And right +glad he was, too, that he stopped _that_ day. + +A fortnight later McNally, on the night run, was going down Crooked +Creek Canon watching the fireworks in the heavens. A black cloud hung +on a high peak, and where its sable skirts trailed along the range the +lightning leaped and flashed in sheets and chains. Above the roar of +wheels he could hear the splash, and once in a while he could feel the +spray, of new-made cataracts as the water rushed down the mountain side, +choking the culverts. + +At Crag View there was, at that time, a high wooden trestle stilted up +on spliced spruce piles with the bark on. + +It used to creak and crack under the engine when it was new. McNally was +nearing it now. It lay, however, just below a deep rock cut that had +been made in a mountain crag and beyond a sharp curve. + +McNally leaned from his cab window, and when the lightning flashed, saw +that the cut was clear of rock and released the brakes slightly to allow +the long train to slip through the reverse curve at the bridge. Curves +cramp a train, and a smooth runner likes to feel them glide smoothly. + +As the black locomotive poked her nose through the cut, the engineer +leaned out again; but the after-effect of the flash of lightning left +the world in inky blackness. + +Back in a darkened corner of the drawing-room of the rearmost sleeper +the sleuth snored with both eyes and ears open. + +Suddenly he saw a man, fully dressed, leap from a lower berth in the +last section and make a grab for the bell-rope. The man missed the rope; +and before he could leap again the detective landed on the back of his +neck, bearing him down. At that moment the conductor came through; and +when he saw the detective pull a pair of bracelets from his hip-pocket, +he guessed that the man underneath must be wanted, and joined in the +scuffle. In a moment the man was handcuffed, for he really offered no +resistance. As they released him he rose, and they squashed him into a +seat opposite the section from which he had leaped a moment before. The +man looked not at his captors, who still held him, but pressed his face +against the window. He saw the posts of the snow-shed passing, sprang +up, flung the two men from him as a Newfoundland would free himself from +a couple of kittens, lifted his manacled hands, leaped toward the +ceiling, and bore down on the signal-rope. + +The conductor, in the excitement, yelled at the man, bringing the rear +brakeman from the smoking-room, followed by the black boy bearing a +shoe-brush. + +Once more they bore the bad man down, and then the conductor grabbed the +rope and signalled the engineer ahead. + +Men leaped from their berths, and women showed white faces between the +closely drawn curtains. + +Once more the conductor pulled the bell, but the train stood still. + +One of the passengers picked up the man's hand-grip that had fallen from +his berth, and found that the card held in the leather tag read: + + "JOHN BRADISH." + +"Go forward," shouted the conductor to the rear brakeman, "and get 'em +out of here,--tell McNally we've got the ghost." + +The detective released his hold on his captive, and the man sank limp in +the corner seat. + +The company's surgeon, who happened to be on the car, came over and +examined the prisoner. The man had collapsed completely. + +When the doctor had revived the handcuffed passenger and got him to sit +up and speak, the porter, wild-eyed, burst in and shouted: "De bridge is +gone." + +A death-like hush held the occupants of the car. + +"De hangin' bridge is sho' gone," repeated the panting porter, "an' de +engine, wi' McNally in de cab's crouchin' on de bank, like a black cat +on a well-cu'b. De watah's roahin' in de deep gorge, and if she drap she +gwine drag--" + +The doctor clapped his hand over the frightened darky's mouth, and the +detective butted him out to the smoking-room. + +The conductor explained that the porter was crazy, and so averted a +panic. + +The detective came back and faced the doctor. "Take off the irons," said +the surgeon, and the detective unlocked the handcuffs. + +Now the doctor, in his suave, sympathetic way, began to question +Bradish; and Bradish began to unravel the mystery, pausing now and again +to rest, for the ordeal through which he had just passed had been a +great mental and nervous strain. + +He began by relating the Ashtabula accident that had left him wifeless +and childless, and, as the story progressed, seemed to find infinite +relief in relating the sad tale of his lonely life. It was like a +confession. Moreover, he had kept the secret so long locked in his +troubled breast that it was good to pour it out. + +The doctor sat directly in front of the narrator, the detective beside +him, while interested passengers hung over the backs of seats and +blocked the narrow aisle. Women, with faces still blanched, sat up in +bed listening breathlessly to the strange story of John Bradish. + +Shortly after returning to their old home, he related, he was awakened +one night by the voice of his wife calling in agonized tones, "John! +John!" precisely as she had cried to him through the smoke and steam and +twisted debris at Ashtabula. He leaped from his bed, heard a mighty +roar, saw a great light flash on his window, and the midnight express +crashed by. + +To be sure it was only a dream, he said to himself, intensified by the +roar of the approaching train; and yet he could sleep no more that +night. Try as he would, he could not forget it; and soon he realized +that a growing desire to travel was coming upon him. In two or three +days' time this desire had become irresistible. He boarded the midnight +train and took a ride. But this did not cure him. In fact, the more he +travelled the more he wanted to travel. Soon after this he discovered +that he had acquired another habit. He wanted to stop the train. Against +these inclinations he had struggled, but to no purpose. Once, when he +felt that he must take a trip, he undressed and went to bed. He fell +asleep, and slept soundly until he heard the whistle of the midnight +train. Instantly he was out of bed, and by the time they had changed +engines he was at the station ready to go. + +The mania for stopping trains had been equally irresistible. He would +bite his lips, his fingers, but he would also stop the train. + +The moment the mischief (for such it was, in nearly every instance) was +done, he would suffer greatly in dread of being found out. But to-night, +as on the occasion of the daylight stop in the canon, he had no warning, +no opportunity to check himself, nor any desire to do so. In each +instance he had heard, dozing in the day-coach and sleeping soundly in +his berth, the voice cry: "John! John!" and instantly his brain was +ablaze with the light of burning wreckage. In the canon he had only +felt, indefinitely, the danger ahead; but to-night he saw the bridge +swept away, and the dark gorge that yawned in front of them. Instantly +upon hearing the cry that woke him, he saw it all. + +"When I realized that the train was still moving, that my first effort +to stop had failed, I flung these strong men from me with the greatest +ease. I'm sure I should have burst those steel bands that bound my +wrists if it had been necessary. + +"Thank God it's all over. I feel now that I am cured,--that I can settle +down contented." + +The man drew a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead, +keeping his face to the window for a long time. + + * * * * * + +When the conductor went forward, he found that it was as the porter had +pictured. The high bridge had been carried away by a water-spout; and on +the edge of the opening the engine trembled, her pilot pointing out +over the black abyss. + +McNally, having driven his fireman from the deck, stood in the cab +gripping the air-lever and watching the pump. At that time we used what +is technically known as "straight air"; so that if the pump stopped the +air played out. + +The conductor ordered the passengers to leave the train. + +The rain had ceased, but the lightning was still playing about the +summit of the range, and when it flashed, those who had gone forward saw +McNally standing at his open window, looking as grand and heroic as the +captain on the bridge of his sinking ship. + +A nervous and somewhat thoughtless person came close under the cab to +ask the engineer why he didn't back up. + +There was no answer. McNally thought it must be obvious to a man with +the intelligence of an oyster, that to release the brakes would be to +let the heavy train shove him over the bank, even if his engine had the +power to back up, which she had not. + +The trainmen were working quietly, but very effectively, unloading. The +day coaches had been emptied, the hand-brakes set, and all the wheels +blocked with links and pins and stones, when the link between the engine +and the mail-car snapped and the engine moved forward. + +McNally heard the snap and felt her going, leaped from the window, +caught and held a scrub cedar that grew in a rock crevice, and saw his +black steed plunge down the dark canon, a sheer two thousand feet. + +McNally had been holding her in the back motion with steam in her +cylinders; and now, when she leaped out into space, her throttle flew +wide, a knot in the whistle-rope caught in the throttle, opening the +whistle-valve as well. Down, down she plunged,--her wheels whirling in +mid-air, a solid stream of fire escaping from her quivering stack, and +from her throat a shriek that almost froze the blood in the veins of the +onlookers. Fainter and farther came the cry, until at last the wild +waters caught her, held her, hushed her, and smothered out her life. + + + + +CHASING THE WHITE MAIL + + +Over the walnuts and wine, as they say in Fifth Avenue, the gray-haired +gentleman and I lingered long after the last of the diners had left the +cafe car. One by one the lights were lowered. Some of the table-stewards +had removed their duck and donned their street clothes. The shades were +closely drawn, so that people could not peep in when the train was +standing. The chief steward was swinging his punch on his finger and +yawning. My venerable friend, who was a veritable author's angel, was a +retired railway president with plenty of time to talk. + +"We had, on the Vandalia," he began after lighting a fresh cigar, "a +dare-devil driver named Hubbard--'Yank' Hubbard they called him. He was +a first-class mechanic, sober and industrious, but notoriously reckless, +though he had never had a wreck. The Superintendent of Motive Power had +selected him for the post of master-mechanic at Effingham, but I had +held him up on account of his bad reputation as a wild rider. + +"We had been having a lot of trouble with California fruit +trains,--delays, wrecks, cars looted while in the ditch,--and I had made +the delay of a fruit train almost a capital offence. The bulletin was, I +presume, rather severe, and the enginemen and conductors were not taking +it very well. + +"One night the White Mail was standing at the station at East St. Louis +(that was before the first bridge was built) loading to leave. My car +was on behind, and I was walking up and down having a good smoke. As I +turned near the engine, I stopped to watch the driver of the White Mail +pour oil in the shallow holes on the link-lifters without wasting a +drop. He was on the opposite side of the engine, and I could see only +his flitting, flickering torch and the dipping, bobbing spout of his +oiler. + +"A man, manifestly another engineer, came up. The Mail driver lifted his +torch and said, 'Hello, Yank,' to which the new-comer made no direct +response. He seemed to have something on his mind. 'What are you out +on?' asked the engineer, glancing at the other's overalls. 'Fast +freight--perishable--must make time--no excuse will be taken,' he +snapped, quoting and misquoting from my severe circular. 'Who's in that +Kaskaskia?' he asked, stepping up close to the man with the torch. + +"'The ol' man,' said the engineer. + +"'No! ol' man, eh? Well! I'll give him a canter for his currency this +trip,' said Yank, gloating. 'I'll follow him like a scandal; I'll stay +with him this night like the odor of a hot box. Say, Jimmie,' he +laughed, 'when that tintype of yours begins to lay down on you, just +bear in mind that my pilot is under the ol' man's rear brake-beam, and +that the headlight of the 99 is haunting him.' + +"'Don't get gay, now,' said the engineer of the White Mail. + +"'Oh, I'll make him think California fruit is not all that's perishable +on the road to-night,' said Yank, hurrying away to the round-house. + +"Just as we were about to pull out, our engineer, who was brother to +Yank, found a broken frame and was obliged to go to the house for +another locomotive. We were an hour late when we left that night, +carrying signals for the fast freight. As we left the limits of the +yard, Hubbard's headlight swung out on the main line, picked up two +slender shafts of silver, and shot them under our rear end. The first +eight or ten miles were nearly level. I sat and watched the headlight of +the fast freight. He seemed to be keeping his interval until we hit the +hill at Collinsville. There was hard pounding then for him for five or +six miles. Just as the Kaskaskia dropped from the ridge between the east +and west Silver Creek, the haunting light swept round the curve at +Hagler's tank. I thought he must surely take water here; but he plunged +on down the hill, coming to the surface a few minutes later on the high +prairie east of Saint Jacobs. + +"Highland, thirty miles out, was our first stop. We took water there; +and before we could get away from the tank, Hubbard had his twin shafts +of silver under my car. We got a good start here, but our catch engine +proved to be badly coaled and a poor steamer. Up to this time she had +done fairly well, but after the first two hours she began to lose. +Seeing no more of the freight train, I turned in, not a little pleased +to think that Mr. Yank's headlight would not haunt me again that trip. I +fell asleep, but woke again when the train stopped, probably at +Vandalia. I had just begun to doze again when our engine let out a +frightful scream for brakes. I knew what that meant,--Hubbard was behind +us. I let my shade go up, and saw the light of the freight train shining +past me and lighting up the water-tank. I was getting a bit nervous, +when I felt our train pulling out. + +"Of course Hubbard had to water again; but as he had only fifteen loads, +and a bigger tank, he could go as far as the Mail could without +stopping. Moreover, we were bound to stop at county seats; and as often +as we did so we had the life scared out of us, for there was not an +air-brake freight car on the system at that time. What a night that must +have been for the freight crew! They were on top constantly, but I +believe the beggars enjoyed it all. Any conductor but Jim Lawn would +have stopped and reported the engineer at the first telegraph station. +Still, I have always had an idea that the train-master was tacitly in +the conspiracy, for his bulletin had been a hot one delivered orally by +the Superintendent, whom I had seen personally. + +"Well, along about midnight Hubbard's headlight got so close, and kept +so close, that I could not sleep. His brother, who was pulling the Mail, +avoided whistling him down; for when he did he only showed that there +_was_ danger, and published his bad brother's recklessness. The result +was that when the Mail screamed I invariably braced myself. I don't +believe I should have stood it, only I felt it would all be over in +another hour; for we should lose Yank at Effingham, the end of the +freight's division. It happened, however, that there was no one to +relieve him, or no engine rather; and Yank went through to Terre Haute. +I was sorry, but I hated to show the white feather. I knew our fresh +engine would lose him, with his tired fireman and dirty fire. Once or +twice I saw his lamp, but at Longpoint we lost him for good. I went to +bed again, but I could not sleep. I used to boast that I could sleep in +a boiler-maker's shop; but the long dread of that fellow's pilot had +unnerved me. I had wild, distressing dreams. + + * * * * * + +"The next morning, when I got to my office, I found a column of news cut +from a morning paper. It had the usual scare-head, and began by +announcing that the White Mail, with General Manager Blank's car +Kaskaskia, came in on time, carrying signals for a freight train. The +second section had not arrived, 'as we go to press.' I think I swore +softly at that point. Then I read on, for there was a lot more. It +seemed, the paper stated, that a gang of highwaymen had planned to rob +the Mail at Longpoint, which had come to be regarded as a regular robber +station. One of the robbers, being familiar with train rules, saw the +signal lights on the Mail and mistook it for a special, which is often +run as first section of a fast train, and they let it pass. They flagged +the freight train, and one of the robbers, who was doubtless new at the +business, caught the passing engine and climbed into the cab. The +engineer, seeing the man's masked face at his elbow, struck it a fearful +blow with his great fist. The amateur desperado sank to the floor, his +big, murderous gun rattling on the iron plate of the coal-deck. Yank, +the engineer, grabbed the gun, whistled off-brakes, and opened the +throttle. The sudden lurch forward proved too much for a weak link, and +the train parted, leaving the rest of the robbers and the train crew to +fight it out. As soon as the engineer discovered that the train had +parted, he slowed down and stopped. + +"When he had picketed the highwayman out on the tank-deck with a piece +of bell-cord, one end of which was fixed to the fellow's left foot and +the other to the whistle lever, Yank set his fireman, with a white light +and the robber's gun, on the rear car and flagged back to the rescue. +The robbers, seeing the blunder they had made, took a few parting shots +at the trainmen on the top of the train, mounted their horses, and rode +away. + +"When the train had coupled up again, they pulled on up to the next +station, where the conductor reported the cause of delay, and from which +station the account of the attempted robbery had been wired. + +"I put the paper down and walked over to a window that overlooked the +yards. The second section of the White Mail was coming in. As the engine +rolled past, Yank looked up; and there was a devilish grin on his black +face. The fireman was sitting on the fireman's seat, the gun across his +lap. A young fellow, wearing a long black coat, a bell-rope, and a +scared look, was sweeping up the deck. + +"When I returned to my desk, the Superintendent of Motive Power was +standing near it. When I sat down, he spread a paper before me. I +glanced at it and recognized Yank Hubbard's appointment to the post of +master-mechanic at Effingham. + +"I dipped a pen in the ink-well and wrote across it in red, 'O--K.'" + + + + +OPPRESSING THE OPPRESSOR + + +"Is this the President's office?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Can I see the President?" + +"Yes,--I'm the President." + +The visitor placed one big boot in a chair, hung his soft hat on his +knee, dropped his elbow on the hat, let his chin fall in the hollow of +his hand, and waited. + +The President of the Santa Fe, leaning over a flat-topped table, wrote +leisurely. When he had finished, he turned a kindly face to the visitor +and asked what could be done. + +"My name's Jones." + +"Yes?" + +"I presume you know about me,--Buffalo Jones, of Garden City." + +"Well," began the President, "I know a lot of Joneses, but where is +Garden City?" + +"Down the road a piece, 'bout half-way between Wakefield and Turner's +Tank. I want you folks to put in a switch there,--that's what I've come +about. I'd like to have it in this week." + +"Anybody living at Garden City?" + +"Yes, all that's there's livin'." + +"About how many?" + +"One and a half when I'm away,--Swede and Injin." + +The President of the Santa Fe smiled and rolled his lead pencil between +the palms of his hands. Mr. Jones watched him and pitied him, as one +watches and pities a child who is fooling with firearms. "He don't know +I'm loaded," thought Jones. + +"Well," said the President, "when you get your town started so that +there will be some prospect of getting a little business, we shall be +only too glad to put in a spur for you." + +Jones had been looking out through an open window, watching the +law-makers of Kansas going up the wide steps of the State House. The +fellows from the farm climbed, the town fellows ran up the steps. + +"Spur!" said Jones, wheeling around from the window and walking toward +the President's desk, "I don't want no spur; I want a side track +that'll hold fifty cars, and I want it this week,--see?" + +"Now look here, Mr. Jones, this is sheer nonsense. We get wind at +Wakefield and water at Turner's Tank; now, what excuse is there for +putting in a siding half-way between these places?" + +Again Mr. Jones, rubbing the point of his chin with the ball of his +thumb, gave the President a pitying glance. + +"Say!" said Jones, resting the points of his long fingers on the table, +"I'm goin' to build a town. You're goin' to build a side track. I've +already set aside ten acres of land for you, for depot and yards. This +land will cost you fifty dollars per, _now_. If I have to come back +about this side track, it'll cost you a hundred. Now, Mr. President, I +wish you good-mornin'." + +At the door Jones paused and looked back. "Any time this week will do; +good-mornin'." + +The President smiled and turned to his desk. Presently he smiled again; +then he forgot all about Mr. Jones and the new town, and went on with +his work. + +Mr. Jones went down and out and over to the House to watch the men make +laws. + + * * * * * + +In nearly every community, about every capital, State or National, you +will find men who are capable of being influenced. This is especially +true of new communities through which a railway is being built. It has +always been so, and will be, so long as time expires. I mean the time of +an annual pass. It is not surprising, then, that in Kansas at that time, +the Grasshopper period,--before prohibition, Mrs. Nation, and religious +dailies,--the company had its friends, and that Mr. Jones, an honest +farmer with money to spend, had his. + +Two or three days after the interview with Mr. Jones, the President's +"friend" came over to the railroad building. He came in quietly and +seated himself near the President, as a doctor enters a sick-room or a +lawyer a prison cell. "I know you don't want me," he seemed to say, "but +you need me." + +When his victim had put down his pen, the politician asked, "Have you +seen Buffalo Jones?" + +The President said he had seen the gentleman. + +"I think it would be a good scheme to give him what he wants," said the +Honorable member of the State legislature. + +But the President could not agree with his friend; and at the end of +half an hour, the Honorable member went away not altogether satisfied. +He did not relish the idea of the President trying to run the road +without his assistance. One of the chief excuses for his presence on +earth and in the State legislature was "to take care of the road." Now, +he had gotten up early in order to see the President without being seen, +and the President had waved him aside. "Well," he said, "I'll let Jones +have the field to-day." + + * * * * * + +Two days later, when the President opened his desk, he found a brief +note from his confidential assistant,--not the Honorable one, but an +ordinary man who worked for the company for a stated salary. The note +read:-- + +"If Buffalo Jones calls to-day please see him.--I am leaving town. +G.O.M." + +But Buffalo did not call. + +Presently the General Manager came in, and when he was leaving the room +he turned and asked, "Have you seen Jones?" + +"Yes," said the President of the Santa Fe, "I've seen Jones." + +The General Manager was glad, for that took the matter from his hands +and took the responsibility from his drooping shoulders. + +About the time the President got his mind fixed upon the affairs of the +road again, Colonel Holiday came in. Like the Honorable gentleman, he +too entered by the private door unannounced; for he was the Father of +the Santa Fe. Placing his high hat top side down on the table, the +Colonel folded his hands over the golden head of his cane and inquired +of the President if he had seen Jones. + +The President assured the Colonel, who in addition to being the Father +of the road was a director. + +The Colonel picked up his hat and went out, feeling considerable relief: +for _his_ friend in the State Senate had informed him at the Ananias +Club on the previous evening, that Jones was going to make trouble for +the road. The Colonel knew that a good, virtuous man with money to spend +could make trouble for anything or anybody, working quietly and +unobtrusively among the equally virtuous members of the State +legislature. The Colonel had been a member of that august body. + +In a little while the General Manager came back; and with him came +O'Marity, the road-master. + +"I thought you said you had seen Jones," the General Manager began. + +Now the President, who was never known to be really angry, wheeled on +his revolving chair. + +"I--_have_--seen Jones." + +"Well, O'Marity says Jones has not been 'seen.' His friend, who comes +down from Atchison every Sunday night on O'Marity's hand-car, has been +good enough to tell O'Marity just what has been going on in the House. +There must be some mistake. It seems to me that if this man Jones had +been seen properly, he would subside. What's the matter with your +friend--Ah, here comes the Honorable gentleman now." + +The President beckoned with his index finger and his friend came in. +Looking him in the eye, the President asked in a stage whisper: "Have +you--seen--Jones?" + +"No, sir," said the Honorable gentleman. "I had no authority to see +him." + +"It's damphunny," said O'Marity, "if the President 'ave seen 'im, 'e +don't quit." + +"I certainly saw a man called Jones,--Buffalo Jones of Garden City. He +wanted a side track put in half-way between Wakefield and Turner's +Tank." + +"And you told him, 'Certainly, we'll do it at once,'" said the General +Manager. + +"No," the President replied, "I told him we would not do it at once, +because there was no business or prospect of business to justify the +expense." + +"Ah--h," said the Manager. + +O'Marity whistled softly. + +The Honorable gentleman smiled, and looked out through the open window +to where the members of the State legislature were going up the broad +steps to the State House. + +"Mr. Rong," the Manager began, "it is all a horrible mistake. You have +never 'seen' Jones. Not in the sense that we mean. When you see a +politician or a man who herds with politicians, he is supposed to be +yours,--you are supposed to have acquired a sort of interest in him,--an +interest that is valued so long as the individual is in sight. You are +entitled to his support and influence, up to, and including the date on +which your influence expires." All the time the Manager kept jerking his +thumb toward the window that held the Honorable gentleman, using the +President's friend as a living example of what he was trying to explain. + +"Is Jones a member?" + +"No, Mr. Rong, but he controls a few members. It is easier, you +understand, to acquire a drove of steers by buying a bunch than by +picking them up here and there, one at a time." + +"I protest," said the Honorable member, "against the reference to +members of the legislature as 'cattle.'" + +Neither of the railway men appeared to hear the protest. + +"I think I understand now," said the President. "And I wish, Robson, you +would take this matter in hand. I confess that I have no stomach for +such work." + +"Very well," said the Manager. "Please instruct your--your--" and he +jerked his thumb toward the Honorable gentleman--"your _friend_ to send +Jones to my office." + +The Honorable gentleman went white and then flushed red, but he waited +for no further orders. As he strode towards the door, Robson, with a +smooth, unruffled brow, but with a cold smile playing over his handsome +face, with mock courtesy and a wide sweep of his open hand, waved the +visitor through the open door. + + * * * * * + +"Mr. Jones wishes to see you," said the chief clerk. + +"Oh, certainly--show Mr. Jones--Ah, good-morning, Mr. Jones, glad to see +you. How's Garden City? Going to let us in on the ground floor, Mr. Rong +tells me. Here, now, fire up; take this big chair and tell me all about +your new town." + +Jones took a cigar cautiously from the box. When the Manager offered him +a match he lighted up gingerly, as though he expected the thing to blow +up. + +"Now, Mr. Jones, as I understand it, you want a side track put in at +once. The matter of depot and other buildings will wait, but I want you +to promise to let us have at least ten acres of ground. Perhaps it would +be better to transfer that to us at once. I'll see" (the Manager pressed +a button). "Send the chief engineer to me, George," as the chief clerk +looked in. + +All this time Jones smoked little short puffs, eyeing the Manager and +his own cigar. When the chief engineer came in he was introduced to Mr. +Jones, the man who was going to give Kansas the highest boom she had +ever had. + +While Jones stood in open-mouthed amazement, the Manager instructed the +engineer to go to Garden City when it would suit Mr. Jones, lay out a +siding that would hold fifty loads, and complete the job at the earliest +possible moment. + +"By the way, Mr. Jones, have you got transportation over our line?" + +Mr. Jones managed to gasp the one word, "No." + +"Buz-z-zz," went the bell. "George, make out an annual for Mr. +Jones,--Comp. G.M." + +Jones steadied himself by resting an elbow on the top of the Manager's +desk. The chief engineer was writing in a little note-book. + +"Now, Mr. Jones--ah, your cigar's out!--how much is this ten acres to +cost us?--a thousand dollars, I believe you told Mr. Rong." + +"Yes, I did tell him that; but if this is straight and no jolly, it +ain't goin' to cost you a cent." + +"Well, that's a _great_ deal better than most towns treat us," said the +Manager. "Now, Mr. Jones, you will have to excuse me; I have some +business with the President. Don't fail to look in on me when you come +to town; and rest assured that the Santa Fe will leave nothing undone +that might help your enterprise." + +With a hearty handshake the Manager, usually a little frigid and remote, +passed out, leaving Mr. Jones to the tender mercies of the chief +engineer. + +Up to this point there is nothing unusual in this story. The remarkable +part is the fact that the building of a side track in an open plain +turned out to be good business. In a year's time there was a neat +station and more sidings. The town boomed with a rapidity that amazed +even the boomers. To be sure, it had its relapses; but still, if you +look from the window as the California Limited crashes by, you will see +a pretty little town when you reach the point on the time-table called + + "Garden City." + + + + +THE IRON HORSE AND THE TROLLEY + + +I + +Two prospectors had three claims in a new camp in British Columbia, but +they had not the $7.50 to pay for having them recorded. They told their +story to Colonel Topping, author of "The Yellowstone Park," and the +Colonel advanced the necessary amount. In time the prospectors returned +$5.00 of the loan, and gave the Colonel one of the claims for the +balance, but more for his kindness to them; for they reckoned it a bully +good prospect. Because they considered it the best claim in the camp, +they called it Le Roi. Subsequently the Colonel sold this "King," that +had cost him $2.50, for $30,000.00. + +The new owners of Le Roi stocked the claim; and for the following two or +three years, when a man owed a debt that he was unwilling to pay, he +paid it in Le Roi stock. If he felt like backing a doubtful horse, he +put up a handful of mining stock to punish the winner. There is in the +history of this interesting mine a story of a man swapping a lot of Le +Roi stock for a burro. The former owner of the donkey took the stock and +the man it came from into court, declaring that the paper was worthless, +and that he had been buncoed. As late as 1894, a man who ran a +restaurant offered 40,000 shares of Le Roi stock for four barrels of +Canadian whiskey; but the whiskey man would not trade that way. + +In the meantime, however, men were working in the mine; and now they +began to ship ore. It was worth $27.00 a ton, and the stock became +valuable. Scattered over the Northwest were 500,000 shares that were +worth $500,000.00. Nearly all the men who had put money into the +enterprise were Yankees,--mining men from Spokane, just over the border. +These men began now to pick up all the stray shares that could be found; +and in a little while eight-tenths of the shares were held by men living +south of the line. At Northport, in Washington, they built one of the +finest smelters in the Northwest, hauled their ore over there, and +smelted it. The ore was rich in gold and copper. They put in a 300 +horse-power hoisting-engine and a 40-drill air-compressor,--the largest +in Canada,--taking all the money for these improvements out of the mine. +The thing was a success, and news of it ran down to Chicago. A party of +men with money started for the new gold fields, but as they were buying +tickets three men rushed in and took tickets for Seattle. These were +mining men; and those who had bought only to British Columbia cashed in, +asked for transportation to the coast, and followed the crowd to the +Klondike. + +In that way Le Roi for the moment was forgotten. + + +II + +The Lieutenant-Governor of the Northwest Territories, who had been a +journalist and had a nose for news, heard of the new camp. All the while +men were rushing to the Klondike, for it is the nature of man to go from +home for a thing that he might secure under his own vine. + +The Governor visited the new camp. A man named Ross Thompson had staked +out a town at the foot of Le Roi dump and called it Rossland. The +Governor put men to work quietly in the mine and then went back to his +plank palace at Regina, capital of the Northwest Territories,--to a +capital that looked for all the world like a Kansas frontier town that +had just ceased to be the county seat. Here for months he waited, +watching the "Imperial Limited" cross the prairie, receiving delegations +of half-breeds and an occasional report from one of the common miners in +Le Roi. If a capitalist came seeking a soft place to invest, the +Governor pointed to the West-bound Limited and whispered in the +stranger's ear. To all letters of inquiry coming from Ottawa or +England,--letters from men who wanted to be told where to dig for +gold,--he answered, "Klondike." + +By and by the Governor went to Rossland again. The mine, of which he +owned not a single share of stock, was still producing. When he left +Rossland he knew all about the lower workings, the value and extent of +the ore body. + +By this time nearly all the Le Roi shares were held by Spokane people. +The Governor, having arranged with a wealthy English syndicate, was in +a position to buy the mine; but the owners did not seem anxious to sell. +Eventually, however, when he was able to offer them an average of $7.50 +for shares that had cost the holders but from ten to sixty cents a +share, about half of them were willing to sell; the balance were not. +Now the Governor cared nothing for this "balance" so long as he could +secure a majority,--a controlling interest in the mine,--for the English +would have it in no other way. A few thousand scattering shares he had +already picked up, and now, from the faction who were willing to sell, +he secured an option on 242,000 shares, which, together with the odd +shares already secured, would put his friends in control of the +property. + +As news of the proposed sale got out, the gorge that was yawning between +the two factions grew wider. + +Finally, when the day arrived for the transfer to be made, the faction +opposed to the sale prepared to make trouble for those who were selling, +to prevent the moving of the seal of the company to Canada--in short, to +stop the sale. They did not go with guns to the secretary and keeper of +the seal and say, "Bide where ye be"; but they went into court and swore +out warrants for the arrest of the secretary and those of the directors +who favored the sale, charging them with conspiracy. + +It was midnight in Spokane. + +A black locomotive, hitched to a dark day-coach, stood in front of the +Great Northern station. The dim light of the gauge lamp showed two +nodding figures in the cab. Out on the platform a man walked up and +down, keeping an eye on the engine, that was to cost him a cool $1000.00 +for a hundred-mile run. Presently a man with his coat-collar about his +ears stepped up into the gangway, shook the driver, and asked him where +he was going. + +"Goin' to sleep." + +The man would not be denied, however, and when he became too pressing, +the driver got up and explained that the cab of his engine was his +castle, and made a move with his right foot. + +"Hold," cried his tormentor, "do you know that you are about to lay +violent hands upon an officer o' the law?" + +"No," said the engineer, "but I'll lay a violent foot up agin the +crown-sheet o' your trousers if you don't jump." + +The man jumped. + +Now the chief despatcher came from the station, stole along the shadow +side of the car, and spoke to the man who had ordered the train. + +A deputy sheriff climbed up on the rear end of the special, tried the +door, shaded his eyes, and endeavored to look into the car. + +"Have you the running orders?" asked the man who was paying for the +entertainment. + +"Yes." + +"Let her go, then." + +All this was in a low whisper; and now the despatcher climbed up on the +fireman's side and pressed a bit of crumpled tissue-paper into the +driver's hand. + +"Pull out over the switches slowly, and when you are clear of the yards +read your orders an' fly." + +The driver opened the throttle gently, the big wheels began to revolve, +and the next moment the sheriff and one of his deputies boarded the +engine. They demanded to know where that train was bound for. + +"The train," said the driver, tugging at the throttle, "is back there at +the station. I'm goin' to the round-house." + +When the sheriff, glancing back, saw that the coach had been cut off, he +swung himself down. + +"They've gi'n it up," said the deputy. + +"I reckon--what's that?" said the sheriff. It was the wild, long whistle +of the lone black engine just leaving the yards. The two officers faced +each other and stood listening to the flutter of the straight stack of +the black racer as she responded to the touch of the erstwhile drowsy +driver, who was at that moment laughing at the high sheriff, and who +would return to tell of it, and gloat in the streets of Spokane. + +The sheriff knew that three of the men for whom he held warrants were at +Hillier, seven miles on the way to Canada. This engine, then, had been +sent to pick them up and bear them away over the border. An electric +line paralleled the steam way to Hillier, and now the sheriff boarded a +trolley and set sail to capture the engine, leaving one deputy to guard +the special car. + +By the time the engineer got the water worked out of his cylinders, the +trolley was creeping up beside his tank. He saw the flash from the wire +above as the car, nodding and dipping like a light boat in the wake of a +ferry, shot beneath the cross-wires, and knew instantly that she was +after him. + +An electric car would not be ploughing through the gloom at that rate, +without a ray of light, merely for the fun of the thing. A smile of +contempt curled the lip of the driver as he cut the reverse-lever back +to the first notch, put on the injector, and opened the throttle yet a +little wider. + +The two machines were running almost neck and neck now. The trolley +cried, hissed, and spat fire in her mad effort to pass the locomotive. A +few stray sparks went out of the engine-stack, and fell upon the roof of +the racing car. At intervals of half a minute the fireman opened the +furnace door; and by the flare of light from the white-hot fire-box the +engine-driver could see the men on the teetering trolley,--the +motor-man, the conductor, the sheriff, and his deputy. + +Slowly now the black flier began to slip away from the electric machine. + +The driver, smiling across the glare of the furnace door at his silent, +sooty companion, touched the throttle again; and the great engine drew +away from the trolley, as a jack-rabbit who has been fooling with a +yellow dog passes swiftly out of reach of his silly yelp. + +Now the men on the trolley heard the wild, triumphant scream of the iron +horse whistling for Hillier. The three directors of Le Roi had been +warned by wire, and were waiting, ready to board the engine. + +The big wheels had scarcely stopped revolving when the men began to get +on. They had barely begun to turn again when the trolley dashed into +Hillier. The sheriff leaped to the ground and came running for the +engine. The wheels slipped; and each passing second brought the mighty +hand of the law, now outstretched, still nearer to the tail of the tank. +She was moving now, but the sheriff was doing better. Ten feet separated +the pursued and the pursuer. She slipped again, and the sheriff caught +the corner of the engine-tank. By this time the driver had got the sand +running; and now, as the wheels held the rail, the big engine bounded +forward, almost shaking the sheriff loose. With each turn of the wheels +the speed was increasing. The sheriff held on; and in three or four +seconds he was taking only about two steps between telegraph poles, and +then--he let go. + + +III + +While the locomotive and the trolley were racing across the country the +Governor, who was engineering it all, invested another thousand. He +ordered another engine, and when she backed onto the coach the deputy +sheriff told the driver that he must not leave the station. The engineer +held his torch high above his head, looked the deputy over, and then +went on oiling his engine. In the meantime the Governor had stored his +friends away in the dark coach, including the secretary with the +company's great seal. Now the deputy became uneasy. + +He dared not leave the train to send a wire to his chief at Hillier, for +the sheriff had said, "Keep your eye on the car." + +The despatcher, whose only interest in the matter was to run the trains +and earn money for his employer, having given written and verbal orders +to the engineer, watched his chance and, when the sheriff was pounding +on the rear door, dodged in at the front, signalling with the bell-rope +to the driver to go. Frantically now the deputy beat upon the rear door +of the car, but the men within only laughed as the wheels rattled over +the last switch and left the lights of Spokane far behind. + +Away they went over a new and crooked track, the sand and cinders +sucking in round the tail of the train to torment the luckless deputy. +Away over hills and rills, past Hillier, where the sheriff still stood +staring down the darkness after the vanishing engine; over switches and +through the Seven Devils, while the unhappy deputy hung to the rear +railing with one hand and crossed himself. + +Each passing moment brought the racing train still nearer the +border,--to that invisible line that marks the end of Yankeeland and the +beginning of the British possessions. The sheriff knew this and beat +loudly upon the car door with an iron gun. The Governor let the sash +fall at the top of the door and spoke, or rather yelled, to the deputy. + +To the Governor's amazement, the sheriff pushed the bottle aside. Dry +and dusty as he was, he would not drink. He was too mad to swallow. He +poked his head into the dark coach and ordered the whole party to +surrender. + +"Just say what you want," said a voice in the gloom, "and we'll pass it +out to you." + +The sheriff became busy with some curves and reverse curves now, and +made no reply. + +Presently the Governor came to the window in the rear door again and +called up the sheriff. + +"We are now nearing the border," he said to the man on the platform. +"They won't know you over there. Here you stand for law and order, and I +respect you, though I don't care to meet you personally; but over the +border you'll only stand for your sentence,--two years for carrying a +cannon on your hip,--and then they'll take you away to prison." + +The sheriff made no answer. + +"Now we're going to slow down at the line to about twenty miles an hour, +more or less; and if you'll take a little friendly advice, you'll fall +off." + +The train was still running at a furious pace. The whistle sounded,--one +long, wild scream,--and the speed of the train slackened. + +"Here you are," the Governor called, and the sheriff stood on the lower +step. + +The door opened and the Governor stepped out on the platform, followed +by his companions. + +"I arrest you," the sheriff shouted, "all of you." + +"But you can't,--you're in British Columbia," the men laughed. + +"Let go, now," said the Governor, and a moment later the deputy picked +himself up and limped back over the border. + + + + +IN THE BLACK CANON + + +One Christmas, at least, will live long in the memory of the men and +women who hung up their stockings at La Veta Hotel in Gunnison in 18--. +Ah, those were the best days of Colorado. Then folks were brave and true +to the traditions of Red Hoss Mountain, when "money flowed like liquor," +and coal strikes didn't matter, for the people all had something to +burn. + +The Yankee proprietor of the dining-stations on this mountain line had +made them as famous almost as the Harvey houses on the Santa Fe were; +which praise is pardonable, since the Limited train with its cafe car +has closed them all. + +But the best of the bunch was La Veta, and the presiding genius was Nora +O'Neal, the lady manager. Many an R. & W. excursionist reading this +story will recall her smile, her great gray eyes, her heaps of dark +brown hair, and the mountain trout that her tables held. + +It will be remembered that at that time the main lines of the Rio Grande +lay by the banks of the Gunnison, through the Black Canon, over Cerro +Summit, and down the Uncompaghre and the Grande to Grand Junction, the +gate of the Utah Desert. + +John Cassidy was an express messenger whose run was over this route and +whose heart and its secret were in the keeping of Nora O'Neal. + +From day to day, from week to week, he had waited her answer, which was +to come to him "by Christmas." + +And now, as only two days remained, he dreaded it, as he had hoped and +prayed for it since the aspen leaves began to gather their gold. He knew +by the troubled look she wore when off her guard that Nora was thinking. + + * * * * * + +Most of the men who were gunning in Gunnison in the early 80's were +fearless men, who, when a difference of opinion arose, faced each other +and fought it out; but there had come to live at La Veta a thin, quiet, +handsome fellow, who moved mysteriously in and out of the camp, slept a +lot by day, and showed a fondness for faro by night. When a name was +needed he signed "Buckingham." His icy hand was soft and white, and his +clothes fitted him faultlessly. He was handsome, and when he paid his +bill at the end of the fourth week he proposed to Nora O'Neal. He was so +fairer, physically, than Cassidy and so darker, morally, that Nora could +not make up her mind at all, at all. + +In the shadow time, between sunset and gas-light, on the afternoon of +the last day but one before Christmas, Buck, as he came to be called, +leaned over the office counter and put a folded bit of white paper in +Nora's hand, saying, as he closed her fingers over it: "Put this powder +in Cassidy's cup." He knew Cassidy merely as the messenger whose freight +he coveted, and not as a contestant for Nora's heart and hand,--a hand +he prized, however, as he would a bob-tailed flush, but no more. + +As for Cassidy, he would be glad, waking, to find himself alive; and if +this plan miscarried, Buck should be able to side-step the gallows. +Anyway, dope was preferable to death. + +Nora opened her hand, and in utter amazement looked at the paper. Some +one interrupted them. Buck turned away, and Nora shoved the powder down +deep into her jacket pocket, feeling vaguely guilty. + +No. 7, the Salt Lake Limited, was an hour late that night. The regular +dinner (we called it supper then) was over when Shanley whistled in. + + * * * * * + +As the headlight of the Rockaway engine gleamed along the hotel windows, +Nora went back to see that everything was ready. + +In the narrow passage between the kitchen and the dining-room she met +Buckingham. "What are you doing here?" she demanded. + +"Now, my beauty," said Buck, laying a cold hand on her arm, "don't be +excited." + +She turned her honest eyes to him and he almost visibly shrank from +them, as she had shuddered at the strange, cold touch of his hand. + +"Put that powder in Cassidy's cup," he said, and in the half-light of +the little hallway she saw his cruel smile. + +"And kill Cassidy, the best friend I have on earth?" + +"It will not kill him, but it may save his life. I shall be in his car +to-night. Sabe? Do as I tell you. He will only fall asleep for a little +while, otherwise--well, he may oversleep himself." She would have passed +on, but he stayed her. "Where is it?" he demanded, with a meaning +glance. + +She touched her jacket pocket, and he released his hold on her arm. + +The shuffle and scuffle of the feet of hungry travellers who were piling +into the dining-room had disturbed them. Nora passed on to the rear, +Buck out to sit down and dine with the passengers, who always had a +shade the best of the bill. + +From his favorite seat, facing the audience, he watched the trainmen +tumbling into the alcove off the west wing, in one corner of which a +couple of Pullman porters in blue and gold sat at a small table, feeding +with their forks and behaving better than some of their white comrades +behaved. + + * * * * * + +Cassidy came in a moment later, sat down, and looked over to see if his +rival was in his accustomed place. The big messenger looked steadily at +the other man, who had never guessed the messenger's secret, and the +other man looked down. + +Already his supper, steaming hot, stood before him, while the table-girl +danced attendance for the tip she was always sure of at the finish. She +studied his tastes and knew his wants, from rare roast down to the +small, black coffee with which he invariably concluded his meal. + +When Buck looked up again he saw Nora approach the table, smile at +Cassidy, and put a cup of coffee down by his plate. + +The trainmen were soon through with their supper, being notoriously +rapid feeders,--which disastrous habit they acquire while on freight, +when they are expected to eat dinner and do an hour's switching in +twenty minutes. + +Unusually early for him, Buck passed out. Nora purposely avoided him, +but watched him from the unlighted little private office. She saw him +light a cigar and stroll down the long platform. At the rear of the last +Pullman he threw his cigar away and crossed quickly to the shadow side +of the train. She saw him pass along, for there were no vestibules +then, and made no doubt he was climbing into Cassidy's car. As the +messenger reached for his change, the cashier-manager caught his hand, +drew it across the counter, leaned toward him, saying excitedly: "Be +careful to-night, John; don't fall asleep or nod for a moment. Oh, be +careful!" she repeated, with ever-increasing intensity, her hot hand +trembling on his great wrist; "be careful, come back safe, and you shall +have your answer." + +When Cassidy came back to earth he was surrounded by half a dozen +good-natured passengers, men and women, who had come out of the +dining-room during the ten or fifteen seconds he had spent in Paradise. + +A swift glance at the faces about told him that they had seen, another +at Nora that she was embarrassed; but in two ticks of the office clock +he protected her, as he would his safe; for his work and time had +trained him to be ready instantly for any emergency. + +"Good-night, sister," he called cheerily, as he hurried toward the door. + +"Good-night, John," said Nora, glancing up from the till, radiant with +the excitement of her "sweet distress." + +"Oh, by Jove!" said a man. + +"Huh!" said a woman, and they looked like people who had just missed a +boat. + +With her face against the window, Nora watched the red lights on the +rear of No. 7 swing out to the main line. + + * * * * * + +Closing the desk, she climbed to her room on the third floor and knelt +by the window. Away out on the shrouded vale she saw the dark train +creeping, a solid stream of fire flowing from the short stack of the +"shotgun"; for Peasley was pounding her for all she was worth in an +honest effort to make up the hour that Shanley had lost in the +snowdrifts of Marshall Pass. Presently she heard the muffled roar of the +train on a trestle, and a moment later saw the Salt Lake Limited +swallowed by the Black Canon, in whose sunless gorges many a driver died +before the scenery settled after having been disturbed by the builders +of the road. + +Over ahead in his quiet car Cassidy sat musing, smoking, and wondering +why Nora should seem so anxious about him. Turning, he glanced about. +Everything looked right, but the girl's anxiety bothered him. + +Picking up a bundle of way-bills, he began checking up. The engine +screamed for Sapinero, and a moment later he felt the list as they +rounded Dead Man's Curve. + +Unless they were flagged, the next stop would be at Cimarron, at the +other end of the canon. + +His work done, the messenger lighted his pipe, settled himself in his +high-backed canvas camp-chair, and put his feet up on his box for a good +smoke. He tried to think of a number of things that had nothing whatever +to do with Nora, but somehow she invariably elbowed into his thoughts. + +He leaned over and opened his box--not the strong-box, but the wooden, +trunk-like box that holds the messenger's street-coat when he's on duty +and his jumper when he's off. On the under side of the lifted lid he had +fixed a large panel picture of Nora O'Neal. + + * * * * * + +Buckingham, peering over a piano-box, behind which he had hidden at +Gunnison, saw and recognized the photograph; for the messenger's white +light stood on the little safe near the picture. For half an hour he had +been watching Cassidy, wondering why he did not fall asleep. He had seen +Nora put the cup down with her own hand, to guard, as he thought, +against the possibility of a mistake. What will a woman not dare and do +for the man she loves? He sighed softly. He recalled now that he had +always exercised a powerful influence over women,--that is, the few he +had known,--but he was surprised that this consistent Catholic girl +should be so "dead easy." + +"And now look at this one hundred and ninety-eight pounds of egotism +sitting here smiling on the likeness of the lady who has just dropped +bug-dust in his coffee. It's positively funny." + +Such were the half-whispered musings of the would-be robber. + +He actually grew drowsy waiting for Cassidy to go to sleep. The car +lurched on a sharp curve, dislodging some boxes. Buck felt a strange, +tingling sensation in his fingers and toes. Presently he nodded. + +Cassidy sat gazing on the pictured face that had hovered over him in all +his dreams for months, and as he gazed, seemed to feel her living +presence. He rose as if to greet her, but kept his eyes upon the +picture. + +Suddenly realizing that something was wrong in his end of the car, Buck +stood up, gripping the top of the piano-box. The scream of the engine +startled him. The car crashed over the switch-frog at Curecanti, and +Curecanti's Needle stabbed the starry vault above. The car swayed +strangely and the lights grew dim. + +Suddenly the awful truth flashed through his bewildered brain. + +"O-o-o-oh, the wench!" he hissed, pulling his guns. + + * * * * * + +Cassidy, absorbed in the photo, heard a door slam; and it came to him +instantly that Nora had boarded the train at Gunnison, and that some one +was showing her over to the head end. As he turned to meet her, he saw +Buck staggering toward him, holding a murderous gun in each hand. +Instantly he reached for his revolver, but a double flash from the guns +of the enemy blinded him and put out the bracket-lamps. As the +messenger sprang forward to find his foe, the desperado lunged against +him. Cassidy grabbed him, lifted him bodily, and smashed him to the +floor of the car; but with the amazing tenacity and wonderful agility of +the trained gun-fighter, Buck managed to fire as he fell. The big bullet +grazed the top of Cassidy's head, and he fell unconscious across the +half-dead desperado. + +Buck felt about for his gun, which had fallen from his hand; but already +the "bug-dust" was getting in its work. Sighing heavily, he joined the +messenger in a quiet sleep. + +At Cimarron they broke the car open, revived the sleepers, restored the +outlaw to the Ohio State Prison, from which he had escaped, and the +messenger to Nora O'Neal. + + + + +JACK RAMSEY'S REASON + + +When Bill Ross romped up over the range and blew into Edmonton in the +wake of a warm chinook, bought tobacco at the Hudson's Bay store, and +began to regale the gang with weird tales of true fissures, paying +placers, and rich loads lying "virgin," as he said, in Northern British +Columbia, the gang accepted his tobacco and stories for what they were +worth; for it is a tradition up there that all men who come in with the +Mudjekeewis are liars. + +That was thirty years ago. + +The same chinook winds that wafted Bill Ross and his rose-hued romances +into town have winged them, and the memory of them, away. + +In the meantime Ross reformed, forgot, the people forgave and made him +Mayor of Edmonton. + + * * * * * + +When Jack Ramsey called at the capital of British Columbia and told of a +territory in that great Province where the winter winds blew warm, +where snow fell only once in a while and was gone again with the first +peep of the sun; of a mountain-walled wonderland between the Coast Range +and the Rockies, where flowers bloomed nine months in the year and gold +could be panned on almost any of the countless rivers, men said he had +come down from Alaska, and that he lied. + +To be sure, they did not say that to Jack,--they only telegraphed it one +to another over their cigars in the club. Some of them actually believed +it, and one man who had made money in California and later in Leadville +said he _knew_ it was so; for, said he, "Jack Ramsey never says or does +a thing without a 'reason.'" + +At the end of a week this English-bred Yankee had organized the "Chinook +Mining and Milling Company, Limited." + +This man was at the head of the scheme, with Jack Ramsey as Managing +Director. + +Ramsey was a prospector by nature made proficient by practice. He had +prospected in every mining camp from Mexico to Moose Factory. If he were +to find a real bonanza, his English-American friend used to say, he +would be miserable for the balance of his days, or rather his +to-morrows. He lived in his to-morrows,--in these and in dreams. He +loved women, wine, and music, and the laughter of little children; but +better than all these he loved the wilderness and the wildflowers and +the soft, low singing of mountain rills. He loved the flowers of the +North, for they were all sweet and innocent. On all the two thousand +five hundred miles of the Yukon, he used to say, there is not one +poisonous plant; and he reasoned that the plants of the Peace and the +Pine and the red roses of the Upper Athabasca would be the same. + +And so, one March morning, he sailed up the Sound to enter his +mountain-walled wonderland by the portal of Port Simpson, which opens on +the Pacific. His English-American friend went up as far as Simpson, and +when the little coast steamer poked her prow into Work Channel he +touched the President of the Chinook Mining and Milling Company and +said, "The Gateway to God's world." + + * * * * * + +The head of the C.M. & M. Company was not surprised when Christmas came +ahead of Jack Ramsey's preliminary report. Jack was a careful, +conservative prospector, and would not send a report unless there was a +good and substantial reason for writing it out. + +In the following summer a letter came,--an extremely short one, +considering what it contained; for it told, tersely, of great prospects +in the wonderland. It closed with a request for a new rifle, some +garden-seeds, and an H.B. letter of credit for five hundred dollars. + +After a warm debate among the directors it was agreed the goods should +go. + +The following summer--that is, the second summer in the life of the +Chinook Company--Dawson dawned on the world. That year about half the +floating population of the Republic went to Cuba and the other half to +the Klondike. + +As the stream swelled and the channel between Vancouver Island and the +mainland grew black with boats, the President of the C.M. & M. Company +began to pant for Ramsey, that he might join the rush to the North. That +exciting summer died and another dawned, with no news from Ramsey. + +When the adventurous English-American could withstand the strain no +longer, he shipped for Skagway himself. He dropped off at Port Simpson +and inquired about Ramsey. + +Yes, the Hudson people said, it was quite probable that Ramsey had +passed in that way. Some hundreds of prospectors had gone in during the +past three years, but the current created by the Klondike rush had drawn +most of them out and up the Sound. + +One man declared that he had seen Ramsey ship for Skagway on the +"Dirigo," and, after a little help and a few more drinks, gave a minute +description of a famous nugget pin which the passing pilgrim said the +prospector wore. + +And so the capitalist took the next boat for Skagway. + +By the time he reached Dawson the death-rattle had begun to assert +itself in the bosom of the boom. The most diligent inquiry failed to +reveal the presence of the noted prospector. On the contrary, many +old-timers from Colorado and California declared that Ramsey had never +reached the Dike--that is, not since the boom. In a walled tent on a +shimmering sand-bar at the mouth of the crystal Klondike, Captain Jack +Crawford, the "Poet Scout," severely sober in that land of large +thirsts, wearing his old-time halo of lady-like behavior and hair, was +conducting an "Ice Cream Emporium and Soft-drink Saloon." + +"No," said the scout, with the tips of his tapered fingers trembling on +an empty table, straining forward and staring into the stranger's face; +"no, Jack Ramsey has not been here; and if what you say be true--he +sleeps alone in yonder fastness. Alas, poor Ramsey!--Ah knew 'im well"; +and he sank on a seat, shaking with sobs. + + * * * * * + +The English-American, on his way out, stopped at Simpson again. From a +half-breed trapper he heard of a white man who had crossed the Coast +Range three grasses ago. This white man had three or four head of +cattle, a Cree servant, and a queer-looking cayuse with long ears and a +mournful, melancholy cry. This latter member of the gang carried the +outfit. + +Taking this half-caste Cree to guide him, the mining man set out in +search of the long-lost Ramsey. They crossed the first range and +searched the streams north of the Peace River pass, almost to the crest +of the continent, but found no trace of the prospector. + +When the summer died and the wilderness was darkened by the Northern +night, the search was abandoned. + +The years drifted into the past, and finally the Chinook Mining and +Milling Company went to the wall. The English-American promoter, +smarting under criticism, reimbursed each of his associates and took +over the office, empty ink-stands and blotting paper, and so blotted out +all records of the one business failure of his life. + +But he could not blot out Jack Ramsey from his memory. There was a +"reason," he would say, for Ramsey's silence. + +One day, when in Edmonton, he met Mayor Ross, who had come into the +country by the back door some thirty years ago. The tales coaxed from +the Mayor's memory corresponded with Ramsey's report; and having nothing +but time and money, the ex-President of the C.M. & M. Company determined +to go in _via_ the Peace River pass and see for himself. He made the +acquaintance of Smith "The Silent," as he was called, who was at that +time pathfinding for the Grand Trunk Pacific, and secured permission to +go in with the engineers. + +At Little Slave Lake he picked up Jim Cromwell, a free-trader, who +engaged to guide the mining man into the wonderland he had described. + +The story of Ramsey and his rambles appealed to Cromwell, who talked +tirelessly, and to the engineer, who listened long; and in time the +habitants of Cromwell's domains, which covered a country some seven +hundred miles square, all knew the story and all joined in the search. + +Beyond the pass of the Peace an old Cree caught up with them and made +signs, for he was deaf and dumb. But strange as it may seem, somehow, +somewhere, he had heard the story of the lost miner and knew that this +strange white man was the miner's friend. + +Long he sat by the camp fire, when the camp was asleep, trying, by +counting on his fingers and with sticks, to make Cromwell understand +what was on his mind. + +When day dawned, he plucked Cromwells' sleeve, then walked away fifteen +or twenty steps, stopped, unrolled his blankets, and lay down, closing +his eyes as if asleep. Presently he got up, rubbed his eyes, lighted his +pipe, smoked for awhile, then knocked the fire out on a stone. Then he +got up, stamped the fire out as though it had been a camp fire, rolled +up his blankets, and travelled on down the slope some twenty feet and +repeated the performance. On the next march he made but ten feet. He +stopped, put his pack down, seated himself on the trunk of a fallen tree +and, with his back to Cromwell, began gesticulating, as if talking to +some one, nodding and shaking his head. Then he got a pick and began +digging. + +At the end of an hour Cromwell and the engineer had agreed that these +stations were day's marches and the rests camping places. In short, it +was two and a half "sleeps" to what he wanted to show them,--a prospect, +a gold mine maybe,--and so Cromwell and the English-American detached +themselves and set out at the heels of the mute Cree in search of +something. + +On the morning of the third day the old Indian could scarcely control +himself, so eager was he to be off. + +All through the morning the white men followed him in silence. Noon +came, and still the Indian pushed on. + +At two in the afternoon, rounding the shoulder of a bit of highland +overlooking a beautiful valley, they came suddenly upon a half-breed boy +playing with a wild goose that had been tamed. + +Down in the valley a cabin stood, and over the valley a small drove of +cattle were grazing. + +Suddenly from behind the hogan came the weird wail of a Colorado canary, +who would have been an ass in Absalom's time. + +They asked the half-breed boy his name, and he shook his head. They +asked for his father, and he frowned. + +The mute old Indian took up a pick, and they followed him up the slope. +Presently he stopped at a stake upon which they could still read the +faint pencil-marks:-- + + C.M. + M. Co. + L'T'D + +The old Indian pointed to the ground with an expression which looked to +the white men like an interrogation. Cromwell nodded, and the Indian +began to dig. Cromwell brought a shovel, and they began sinking a shaft. + +The English-American, with a sickening, sinking sensation, turned toward +the cabin. The boy preceded him and stood in the door. The man put his +hand on the boy's head and was about to enter when he caught sight of a +nugget at the boy's neck. He stooped and lifted it. The boy shrank back, +but the man, going deadly pale, clutched the child, dragging the nugget +from his neck. + +Now all the Indian in the boy's savage soul asserted itself, and he +fought like a little demon. Pitying the child in its impotent rage, the +man gave him the nugget and turned away. + +Across the valley an Indian woman came walking rapidly, her arms full of +turnips and onions and other garden-truck. The white man looked and +loathed her; for he felt confident that Ramsey had been murdered, his +trinkets distributed, and his carcass cast to the wolves. + +When the boy ran to meet the woman, the white man knew by his behavior +that he was her child. When the boy had told his mother how the white +man had behaved, she flew into a rage, dropped her vegetables, dived +into the cabin, and came out with a rifle in her hands. To her evident +surprise the man seemed not to dread death, but stood staring at the +rifle, which he recognized as the rifle he had sent to Ramsey. To his +surprise she did not shoot, but uttering a strange cry, started up the +slope, taking the gun with her. With rifle raised and flashing eyes she +ordered the two men out of the prospect hole. Warlike as she seemed, she +was more than welcome, for she was a woman and could talk. She talked +Cree, of course, but it sounded good to Cromwell. Side by side the +handsome young athlete and the Cree woman sat and exchanged stories. + +Half an hour later the Englishman came up and asked what the prospect +promised. + +"Ah," said Cromwell, sadly, "this is another story. There is no gold in +this vale, though from what this woman tells me the hills are full of +it. However," he added, "I believe we have found your friend." + +"Yes?" queried the capitalist. + +"Yes," echoed Cromwell, "here are his wife and his child; and here, +where we're grubbing, his grave." + +"Quite so, quite so," said the big, warm-hearted English-American, +glaring at the ground; "and that was Ramsey's 'reason' for not +writing." + + + + +THE GREAT WRECK ON THE PERE MARQUETTE + + +The reader is not expected to believe this red tale; but if he will take +the trouble to write the General Manager of the Pere Marquette Railroad, +State of Michigan, U.S.A. enclosing stamped envelope for answer, I make +no doubt that good man, having by this time recovered from the dreadful +shock occasioned by the wreck, will cheerfully verify the story even to +the minutest detail. + + * * * * * + +Of course Kelly, being Irish, should have been a Democrat; but he was +not. He was not boisterously or offensively Republican, but he was going +to vote the prosperity ticket. He had tried it four years ago, and +business had never been better on the Pere Marquette. Moreover, he had a +new hand-car. + +The management had issued orders to the effect that there must be no +coercion of employees. It was pretty well understood among the men that +the higher officials would vote the Republican ticket and leave the +little fellows free to do the same. So Kelly, being boss of the gang, +could not, with "ju" respect to the order of the Superintendent, enter +into the argument going on constantly between Burke and Shea on one side +and Lucien Boseaux, the French-Canadian-Anglo-Saxon-Foreign-American +Citizen, on the other. This argument always reached its height at +noon-time, and had never been more heated than now, it being the day +before election. "Here is prosper tee," laughed Lucien, holding up a +half-pint bottle of _vin rouge_. + +"Yes," Burke retorted, "an' ye have four pound of cotton waste in the +bottom o' that bucket to trow the grub t' the top. Begad, I'd vote for +O'Bryan wid an empty pail--er none at all--before I'd be humbugged." + +"Un I," said Lucien, "would pour Messieur Rousveau vote if my baskett +shall all the way up be cotton." + +"Sure ye would," said Shea, "and ate the cotton too, ef your masther +told ye to. 'Tis the likes of ye, ye bloomin' furreighner, that kapes +the thrust alive in this country." + +When they were like to come to blows, Kelly, with a mild show of +superiority, which is second nature to a section boss, would interfere +and restore order. All day they worked and argued, lifting low joints +and lowering high centres; and when the red sun sank in the tree-tops, +filtering its gold through the golden leaves, they lifted the car onto +the rails and started home. + +When the men had mounted, Lucien at the forward handle and Burke and +Shea side by side on the rear bar, they waited impatiently for Kelly to +light his pipe and seat himself comfortably on the front of the car, his +heels hanging near to the ties. + +There was no more talk now. The men were busy pumping, the "management" +inspecting the fish-plates, the culverts, and, incidentally, watching +the red sun slide down behind the trees. + +At the foot of a long slope, down which the men had been pumping with +all their might, there was a short bridge. The forest was heavy here, +and already the shadow of the woods lay over the right-of-way. As the +car reached the farther end of the culvert, the men were startled by a +great explosion. The hand-car was lifted bodily and thrown from the +track. + +The next thing Lucien remembers is that he woke from a fevered sleep, +fraught with bad dreams, and felt warm water running over his chest. He +put his hand to his shirt-collar, removed it, and found it red with +blood. Thoroughly alarmed, he got to his feet and looked, or rather +felt, himself over. His fingers found an ugly ragged gash in the side of +his neck, and the fear and horror of it all dazed him. + + * * * * * + +He reeled and fell again, but this time did not lose consciousness. + +Finally, when he was able to drag himself up the embankment to where the +car hung crosswise on the track, the sight he saw was so appalling he +forgot his own wounds. + +On the side opposite to where he had fallen, Burke and Shea lay side by +side, just as they had walked and worked and fought for years, and just +as they would have voted on the morrow had they been spared. +Immediately in front of the car, his feet over one rail and his neck +across the other, lay the mortal remains of Kelly the boss, the stub of +his black pipe still sticking between his teeth. As Lucien stooped to +lift the helpless head his own blood, spurting from the wound in his +neck, flooded the face and covered the clothes of the limp foreman. +Finding no signs of life in the section boss, the wounded, and by this +time thoroughly frightened, French-Canadian turned his attention to the +other two victims. Swiftly now the realization of the awful tragedy came +over the wounded man. His first thought was of the express now nearly +due. With a great effort he succeeded in placing the car on the rails, +and then began the work of loading the dead. Out of respect for the +office so lately filled by Kelly, he was lifted first and placed on the +front of the car, his head pillowed on Lucien's coat. Next he put Burke +aboard, bleeding profusely the while; and then began the greater task of +loading Shea. Shea was a heavy man, and by the time Lucien had him +aboard he was ready to faint from exhaustion and the loss of blood. + +Now he must pump up over the little hill; for if the express should come +round the curve and fall down the grade, the hand-car would be in +greater danger than ever. + +After much hard work he gained the top of the hill, the hot blood +spurting from his neck at each fall of the handle-bar, and went hurrying +down the long easy grade to Charlevoix. + +To show how the trifles of life will intrude at the end, it is +interesting to hear Lucien declare that one of the first thoughts that +came to him on seeing the three prostrate figures was, that up to that +moment the wreck had worked a Republican gain of one vote, with his own +in doubt. + +But now he had more serious work for his brain, already reeling from +exhaustion. At the end of fifteen minutes he found himself hanging onto +the handle, more to keep from falling than for any help he was giving +the car. The evening breeze blowing down the slope helped him, so that +the car was really losing nothing in speed. He dared not relax his hold; +for if his strength should give out and the car stop, the express would +come racing down through the twilight and scoop him into eternity. So he +toiled on, dazed, stupefied, fighting for life, surrounded by the dead. + +Presently above the singing of the wheels he heard a low sound, like a +single, smothered cough of a yard engine suddenly reversed. Now he had +the feeling of a man flooded with ice-water, so chilled was his blood. +Turning his head to learn the cause of delay (he had fancied the pilot +of an engine under his car), he saw Burke, one of the dead men, leap up +and glare into his face. That was too much for Lucien, weak as he was, +and twisting slightly, he sank to the floor of the car. + +Slowly Burke's wandering reason returned. Seeing Shea at his feet, +bloodless and apparently unhurt, he kicked him, gently at first, and +then harder, and Shea stood up. Mechanically the waking man took his +place by Burke's side and began pumping, Lucien lying limp between them. +Kelly, they reasoned, must have been dead some time, by the way he was +pillowed. + +When Shea was reasonably sure that he was alive, he looked at his mate. + +"Phat way ar're ye feelin'?" asked Burke. + +"Purty good fur a corpse. How's yourself?" + +"Oh, so-so!" + +"Th' Lord is good to the Irish." + +"But luck ut poor Kelly." + +"'Tis too bad," said Shea, "an' him dyin' a Republican." + +"'Tis the way a man lives he must die." + +"Yes," said Shea, thoughtfully, "thim that lives be the sword must go be +the board." + +When they had pumped on silently for awhile, Shea asked, "How did ye +load thim, Burke?" + +"Why--I--I suppose I lifted them aboard. I had no derrick." + +"Did ye lift me, Burke?" + +"I'm damned if I know, Shea," said Burke, staring ahead, for Kelly had +moved. "Keep her goin'," he added, and then he bent over the prostrate +foreman. He lifted Kelly's head, and the eyes opened. He raised the head +a little higher, and Kelly saw the blood upon his beard, on his coat, on +his hands. + +"Are yez hurted, Kelly?" he asked. + +"Hurted! Man, I'm dyin'. Can't you see me heart's blood ebbin' over me?" +And then Burke, crossing himself, laid the wounded head gently down +again. + +By this time they were nearing their destination. Burke, seeing Lucien +beyond human aid, took hold again and helped pump, hoping to reach +Charlevoix in time to secure medical aid, or a priest at least, for +Kelly. + +When the hand-car stopped in front of the station at Charlevoix, the +employees watching, and the prospective passengers waiting, for the +express train gathered about the car. + +"Get a docther!" shouted Burke, as the crowd closed in on them. + +In a few moments a man with black whiskers, a small hand-grip, and +bicycle trousers panted up to the crowd and pushed his way to the car. + +"What's up?" he asked; for he was the company's surgeon. + +"Well, there's wan dead, wan dying, and we're all more or less kilt," +said Shea, pushing the mob back to give the doctor room. + +Lifting Lucien's head, the doctor held a small bottle under his nose, +and the wounded man came out. Strong, and the reporter would say +"willing hands," now lifted the car bodily from the track and put it +down on the platform near the baggage-room. + +When the doctor had revived the French-Canadian and stopped the flow of +blood, he took the boss in hand. Opening the man's clothes, he searched +for the wound, but found none. + +They literally stripped Kelly to the waist; but there was not a scratch +to be found upon his body. When the doctor declared it to be his opinion +that Kelly was not hurt at all, but had merely fainted, Kelly was +indignant. + +Of course the whole accident (Lucien being seriously hurt) had to be +investigated, and this was the finding of the experts:-- + +A tin torpedo left on the rail by a flagman was exploded by the wheel of +the hand-car. A piece of tin flew up, caught Lucien in the neck, making +a nasty wound. Lucien was thrown from the car, when it jumped the track, +so violently as to render him unconscious. Kelly and Burke and Shea, +picking themselves up, one after the other, each fainted dead away at +the sight of so much blood. + +Lucien revived first, took in the situation, loaded the limp bodies, and +pulled for home, and that is the true story of the awful wreck on the +Pere Marquette. + + + + +THE STORY OF AN ENGLISHMAN + + +A young Englishman stood watching a freight train pulling out of a new +town, over a new track. A pinch-bar, left carelessly by a section gang, +caught in the cylinder-cock rigging and tore it off. + +Swearing softly, the driver climbed down and began the nasty work of +disconnecting the disabled machinery. He was not a machinist. Not all +engine-drivers can put a locomotive together. In fact the best runners +are just runners. The Englishman stood by and, when he saw the man +fumble his wrench, offered a hand. The driver, with some hesitation, +gave him the tools, and in a few minutes the crippled rigging was taken +down, nuts replaced, and the rigging passed by the Englishman to the +fireman, who threw it up on the rear of the tank. + +"Are you a mechanic?" asked the driver. + +"Yes, sir," said the Englishman, standing at least a foot above the +engineer. "There's a job for me up the road, if I can get there." + +"And you're out of tallow?" + +The Englishman was not quite sure; but he guessed "tallow" was United +States for "money," and said he was short. + +"All right," said the engine-driver; "climb on." + +The fireman was a Dutchman named Martin, and he made the Englishman +comfortable; but the Englishman wanted to work. He wanted to help fire +the engine, and Martin showed him how to do it, taking her himself on +the hills. When they pulled into the town of E., the Englishman went +over to the round-house and the foreman asked him if he had ever +"railroaded." He said No, but he was a machinist. "Well, I don't want +you," said the foreman, and the Englishman went across to the little +eating-stand where the trainmen were having dinner. Martin moved over +and made room for the stranger between himself and his engineer. + +"What luck?" asked the latter. + +"Hard luck," was the answer, and without more talk the men hurried on +through the meal. + +They had to eat dinner and do an hour's switching in twenty minutes. +That is an easy trick when nobody is looking. You arrive, eat dinner, +then register in. That is the first the despatcher hears of you at E. +You switch twenty minutes and register out. That is the last the +despatcher hears of you at E. You switch another twenty minutes and go. +That is called stealing time; and may the Manager have mercy on you if +you're caught at it, for you've got to make up that last twenty minutes +before you hit the next station. + +As the engineer dropped a little oil here and there for another dash, +the Englishman came up to the engine. He could not bring himself to ask +the driver for another ride, and he didn't need to. + +"You don't get de jobs?" asked Martin. + +"No." + +"Vell, dat's all right; you run his railroad some day." + +"I don't like the agent here," said the driver; "but if you were up at +the other end of the yard, over on the left-hand side, he couldn't see +you, and I couldn't see you for the steam from that broken +cylinder-cock." + +Now they say an Englishman is slow to catch on, but this one was not; +and as the engine rattled over the last switch, he climbed into the cab +in a cloud of steam. Martin made him welcome again, pointing to a seat +on the waste-box. The dead-head took off his coat, folded it carefully, +laid it on the box, and reached for the shovel. "Not yet," said Martin, +"dare is holes already in de fire; I must get dose yello smoke from de +shtack off." + +The dead-head leaned from the window, watching the stack burn clear, +then Martin gave him the shovel. Half-way up a long, hard hill the +pointer on the steam-gauge began to go back. The driver glanced over at +Martin, and Martin took the shovel. The dead-head climbed up on the tank +and shovelled the coal down into the pit, that was now nearly empty. In +a little while they pulled into the town of M.C., Iowa, at the crossing +of the Chicago, Milwaukee, and St. Paul. Here the Englishman had to +change cars. His destination was on the cross-road, still one hundred +and eighteen miles away. The engine-driver took the joint agent to one +side, the agent wrote on a small piece of paper, folded it carefully, +and gave it to the Englishman. "This may help you," said he; "be +quick--they're just pulling out--run!" + +Panting, the Englishman threw himself into a way-car that was already +making ten miles an hour. The train official unfolded the paper, read +it, looked the Englishman over, and said, "All right." + +It was nearly night when the train arrived at W., and the dead-head +followed the train crew into an unpainted pine hotel, where all hands +fell eagerly to work. A man stood behind a little high desk at the door +taking money; but when the Englishman offered to pay he said, "Yours is +paid fer." + +"Not mine; nobody knows me here." + +"Then, 'f the devil don't know you better than I do you're lost, young +man," said the landlord. "But some one p'inted to you and said, 'I pay +fer him.' It ain't a thing to make a noise about. It don't make no +difference to me whether it's Tom or Jerry that pays, so long as +everybody represents." + +"Well, this is a funny country," mused the Englishman, as he strolled +over to the shop. Now when he heard the voice of the foreman, with its +musical burr, which stamped the man as a Briton from the Highlands, his +heart grew glad. The Scotchman listened to the stranger's story without +any sign of emotion or even interest; and when he learned that the man +had "never railroaded," but had been all his life in the British +Government service, he said he could do nothing for him, and walked +away. + +The young man sat and thought it over, and concluded he would see the +master-mechanic. On the following morning he found that official at his +desk and told his story. He had just arrived from England with a wife +and three children and a few dollars. "That's all right," said the +master-mechanic; "I'll give you a job on Monday morning." + +This was Saturday, and during the day the first foreman with whom the +Englishman had talked wired that if he would return to E. he could find +work. The young man showed this wire to the master-mechanic. "I should +like to work for you," said he; "you have been very kind to give me +employment after the foreman had refused, but my family is near this +place. They are two hundred miles or more from here." + +"I understand," said the kind-hearted official, "and you'd better go +back to E." + +The Englishman rubbed his chin and looked out of the window. The train +standing at the station and about to pull out would carry him back to +the junction, but he made no effort to catch it, and the +master-mechanic, seeing this, caught the drift of the young man's mind. +"Have you transportation?" he asked. The stranger, smiling, shook his +head. Turning to his desk, the master-mechanic wrote a pass to the +junction and a telegram requesting transportation over the Iowa Central +from the junction to the town of E. + +That Sunday the young man told his young wife that the new country was +"all right." Everybody trusted everybody else. An official would give a +stranger free transportation; a station agent could give you a pass, and +even an engine-driver could carry a man without asking permission. + +He didn't know that all these men save the master-mechanic had violated +the rules of the road and endangered their own positions and the chance +of promotion by helping him; but he felt he was among good, kind people, +and thanked them just the same. + +On Monday morning he went to work in the little shop. In a little while +he was one of the trustworthy men employed in the place. "How do you +square a locomotive?" he asked the foreman. "Here," said the foreman; +"from this point to that." + +That was all the Englishman asked. He stretched a line between the given +points and went to work. + +Two years from this the town of M. offered to donate to the railroad +company $47,000 if the new machine shop could be located there, steam up +and machinery running, on the first day of January of the following +year. + +The general master-mechanic entrusted the work of putting in the +machinery, after the walls had been built and the place roofed over, to +the division master-mechanic, who looked to the local foreman to finish +the job in time to win the subsidy. + +The best months of the year went by before work was begun. Frost came, +and the few men tinkering about were chilled by the autumn winds that +were wailing through the shutterless doors and glassless windows. +Finally the foreman sent the Englishman to M. to help put up the +machinery. He was a new man, and therefore was expected to take signals +from the oldest man on the job,--a sort of straw-boss. + +The bridge boss--the local head of the wood-workers--found the +Englishman gazing about, and the two men talked together. There was no +foreman there, but the Englishman thought he ought to work anyway; so he +and the wood boss stretched a line for a line-shaft, and while the +carpenter's gang put up braces and brackets the Englishman coupled the +shaft together, and in a few days it was ready to go up. As the young +man worked and whistled away one morning, the boss carpenter came in +with a military-looking gentleman, who seemed to own the place. "Where +did you come from?" asked the new-comer of the machinist. + +"From England, sir." + +"Well, anybody could tell that. Where did you come from when you came +here?" + +"From E." + +"Well, sir, can you finish this job and have steam up here on the first +of January?" + +The Englishman blushed, for he was embarrassed, and glanced at the wood +boss. Then, sweeping the almost empty shop with his eye, he said +something about a foreman who was in charge of the work. "Damn the +foreman," said the stranger; "I'm talking to you." + +The young man blushed again, and said he could work twelve or fourteen +hours a day for a time if it were necessary, but he didn't like to make +any rash promises about the general result. + +"Now look here," said the well-dressed man, "I want you to take charge +of this job and finish it; employ as many men as you can handle, and +blow a whistle here on New Year's morning--do you understand?" + +The Englishman thought he did, but he could hardly believe it. He +glanced at the wood boss, and the wood boss nodded his head. + +"I shall do my best," said the Englishman, taking courage, "but I should +like to know who gives these orders." + +"I'm the General Manager," said the man; "now get a move on you," and +he turned and walked out. + +It is not to be supposed that the General Manager saw anything +remarkable about the young man, save that he was six feet and had a good +face. The fact is, the wood foreman had boomed the Englishman's stock +before the Manager saw him. + +The path of the Englishman was not strewn with flowers for the next few +months. Any number of men who had been on the road when he was in the +English navy-yards felt that they ought to have had this little +promotion. The local foremen along the line saw in the young Englishman +the future foreman of the new shops, and no man went out of his way to +help the stranger. But in spite of all obstacles, the shop grew from day +to day, from week to week; so that as the old year drew to a close the +machinery was getting into place. The young foreman, while a hard +worker, was always pleasant in his intercourse with the employees, and +in a little while he had hosts of friends. There is always a lot of +extra work at the end of a big job, and now when Christmas came there +was still much to do. The men worked night and day. The boiler that was +to come from Chicago had been expected for some time. Everything was in +readiness, and it could be set up in a day; but it did not come. +Tracer-letters that had gone after it were followed by telegrams; +finally it was located in a wreck out in a cornfield in Illinois on the +last day of the year. + +A great many of the officials were away, and the service was generally +demoralized during the holidays, so that the appropriation for which the +Englishman was working at M. had for the moment been forgotten; the +shops were completed, the machinery was in, but there was no boiler to +boil water to make steam. + +That night, when the people of M. were watching the old year out and the +new year in, the young Englishman with a force of men was wrecking the +pump-house down by the station. The little upright boiler was torn out +and placed in the machine shops, and with it a little engine was driven +that turned the long line-shaft. + +At dawn they ran a long pipe through the roof, screwed a locomotive +whistle on the top of it, and at six o'clock on New Year's morning the +new whistle on the new shops at M. in Iowa, blew in the new year. +Incidentally, it blew the town in for $47,000. + +This would be a good place to end this story, but the temptation is +great to tell the rest. + +When the shops were opened, the young Englishman was foreman. This was +only about twenty-five years ago. In a little while they promoted him. + +In 1887 he went to the Wisconsin Central. In 1890 he was made +Superintendent of machinery of the Santa Fe route,--one of the longest +roads on earth. It begins at Chicago, strong like a man's wrist, with a +finger each on Sacramento, San Francisco, San Diego, and El Paso, and a +thumb touching the Gulf at Galveston. + +The mileage of the system, at that time, was equal to one-half that of +Great Britain; and upon the companies' payrolls were ten thousand more +men than were then in the army of the United States. Fifteen hundred men +and boys walk into the main shops at Topeka every morning. They work +four hours, eat luncheon, listen to a lecture or short sermon in the +meeting-place above the shops, work another four hours, and walk out +three thousand dollars better off than they would have been if they had +not worked. + +These shops make a little city of themselves. There is a perfect water +system, fire-brigade with fire stations where the firemen sleep, police, +and a dog-catcher. + +Here they build anything of wood, iron, brass, or steel that the company +needs, from a ninety-ton locomotive to a single-barrelled mouse-trap, +all under the eye of the Englishman who came to America with a good wife +and three babies, a good head and two hands. This man's name is John +Player. He is the inventor of the Player truck, the Player hand-car, the +Player frog, and many other useful appliances. + +This simple story of an unpretentious man came out in broken sections as +the special sped along the smooth track, while the General Manager +talked with the resident director and the General Superintendent talked +with his assistant, who, not long ago, was the conductor of a work-train +upon which the G.S. was employed as brakeman. I was two days stealing +this story, between the blushes of the mechanical Superintendent. + +He related, also, that a man wearing high-cut trousers and milk on his +boot had entered his office when he had got to his first position as +master-mechanic and held out a hand, smiling, "Vell, you don't know me +yet, ain't it? I'm Martin the fireman; I quit ranchin' already, an' I +want a jobs." + +Martin got a job at once. He got killed, also, in a little while; but +that is part of the business on a new road. + +Near the shops at Topeka stands the railroad Young Men's Christian +Association building. They were enlarging it when I was there. There are +no "saloons" in Kansas, so Player and his company help the men to +provide other amusements. + + + + +ON THE LIMITED + + +One Sabbath evening, not long ago, I went down to the depot in an +Ontario town to take the International Limited for Montreal. She was on +the blackboard five minutes in disgrace. "Huh!" grunted a commercial +traveller. It was Sunday in the aforesaid Ontario town, and would be +Sunday in Toronto, toward which he was travelling. Even if we were on +time we should not arrive until 9.30--too late for church, too early to +go to bed, and the saloons all closed and barred. And yet this restless +traveller fretted and grieved because we promised to get into Toronto +five minutes late. Alas for the calculation of the train despatchers, +she was seven minutes overdue when she swept in and stood for us to +mount. The get-away was good, but at the eastern yard limits we lost +again. The people from the Pullmans piled into the cafe car and +overflowed into the library and parlor cars. The restless traveller +snapped his watch again, caught the sleeve of a passing trainman, and +asked "'S matter?" and the conductor answered, "Waiting for No. 5." Five +minutes passed and not a wheel turned; six, eight, ten minutes, and no +sound of the coming west-bound express. Up ahead we could hear the +flutter and flap of the blow-off; for the black flier was as restless as +the fat drummer who was snapping his watch, grunting "Huh," and washing +suppressed profanity down with _cafe noir_. + +Eighteen minutes and No. 5 passed. When the great black steed of steam +got them swinging again we were twenty-five minutes to the bad. And how +that driver did hit the curves! The impatient traveller snapped his +watch again and said, refusing to be comforted, "She'll never make it." + +Mayhap the fat and fretful drummer managed to communicate with the +engine-driver, or maybe the latter was unhappily married or had an +insurance policy; and it is also possible that he is just the devil to +drive. Anyway, he whipped that fine train of Pullmans, cafe, and parlor +cars through those peaceful, lamplighted, Sabbath-keeping Ontario towns +as though the whole show had cost not more than seven dollars, and his +own life less. + +On a long lounge in the library car a well-nourished lawyer lay sleeping +in a way that I had not dreamed a political lawyer could sleep. One +gamey M.P.--double P, I was told--had been robbing this same lawyer of a +good deal of rest recently, and he was trying at a mile a minute to +catch up with his sleep. I could feel the sleeper slam her flanges +against the ball of the rail as we rounded the perfectly pitched curves, +and the little semi-quaver that tells the trained traveller that the man +up ahead is moving the mile-posts, at least one every minute. At the +first stop, twenty-five miles out, the fat drummer snapped his watch +again, but he did not say, "Huh." We had made up five minutes. + +A few passengers swung down here, and a few others swung up; and off we +dashed, drilling the darkness. I looked in on the lawyer again, for I +would have speech with him; but he was still sleeping the sleep of the +virtuous, with the electric light full on his upturned baby face, that +reminds me constantly of the late Tom Reed. + +A woman I know was putting one of her babies to bed in lower 2, when we +wiggled through a reverse curve that was like shooting White Horse +Rapids in a Peterboro. The child intended for lower 2 went over into 4. +"Never mind," said its mother, "we have enough to go around;" and so she +left that one in 4 and put the next one in 2, and so on. + +At the next stop where you "Y" and back into the town, the people, +impatient, were lined up, ready to board the Limited. When we swung over +the switches again, we were only ten minutes late. + +As often as the daring driver eased off for a down grade I could hear +the hiss of steam through the safety-valve above the back of the black +flier, and I could feel the flanges against the ball of the rail, and +the little tell-tale semi-quaver of the car. + +By now the babies were all abed; and from bunk to bunk she tucked them +in, kissed them good-night, and then cuddled down beside the last one, a +fair-haired girl who seemed to have caught and kept, in her hair and in +her eyes, the sunshine of the three short summers through which she had +passed. + +Once more I went and stood by the lounge where the lawyer lay, but I had +not the nerve to wake him. + +The silver moon rose and lit the ripples on the lake that lay below my +window as the last of the diners came from the cafe car. Along the shore +of the sleeping lake our engine swept like a great, black, wingless bird +of night. Presently I felt the frogs of South Parkdale; and when, from +her hot throat she called "Toronto," the fat and fretful traveller +opened his great gold watch. He did not snap it now, but looked into its +open face and almost smiled; for we were touching Toronto on the tick of +time. + +I stepped from the car, for I was interested in the fat drummer. I +wanted to see him meet her, and hold her hand, and tell her what a +really, truly, good husband he had been, and how he had hurried home. As +he came down the short stair a friend faced him and said "Good-night," +where we say "Good-evening." "Hello, Bill," said the fat drummer. They +shook hands languidly. The fat man yawned and asked, "Anything doing?" +"Not the littlest," said Bill. "Then," said Jim (the fat man), "let us +go up to the King Edward, sit down, and have a good, quiet smoke." + + + + +THE CONQUEST OF ALASKA + + +Immediately under the man with the money, who lived in London, there was +the President in Chicago; then came the chief engineer in Seattle, the +locating engineer in Skagway, the contractor in the grading camp, and +Hugh Foy, the "boss" of the builders. Yet in spite of all this +overhanging stratification, Foy was a big man. To be sure, none of these +men had happened to get their positions by mere chance. They were men of +character and fortitude, capable of great sacrifice. + +Mr. Close, in London, knew that his partner, Mr. Graves, in Chicago, +would be a good man at the head of so cold and hopeless an enterprise as +a Klondike Railway; and Mr. Graves knew that Erastus Corning Hawkins, +who had put through some of the biggest engineering schemes in the West, +was the man to build the road. The latter selected, as locating +engineer, John Hislop, the hero, one of the few survivors of that wild +and daring expedition that undertook, some twenty years ago, to survey a +route for a railroad whose trains were to traverse the Grand Canon of +Colorado, where, save for the song of the cataract, there is only shade +and silence and perpetual starlight. Heney, a wiry, compact, plucky +Canadian contractor, made oral agreement with the chief engineer and, +with Hugh Foy as his superintendent of construction, began to grade what +they called the White Pass and Yukon Railway. Beginning where the +bone-washing Skagway tells her troubles to the tide-waters at the elbow +of that beautiful arm of the Pacific Ocean called Lynn Canal, they +graded out through the scattered settlement where a city stands to-day, +cut through a dense forest of spruce, and began to climb the hill. + +When the news of ground-breaking had gone out to Seattle and Chicago, +and thence to London, conservative capitalists, who had suspected Close +Brothers and Company and all their associates in this wild scheme of +temporary insanity, concluded that the sore affliction had come to stay. +But the dauntless builders on the busy field where the grading camp was +in action kept grubbing and grading, climbing and staking, blasting and +building, undiscouraged and undismayed. Under the eaves of a dripping +glacier, Hawkins, Hislop, and Heney crept; and, as they measured off the +miles and fixed the grade by blue chalk-marks where stakes could not be +driven, Foy followed with his army of blasters and builders. When the +pathfinders came to a deep side canon, they tumbled down, clambered up +on the opposite side, found their bearings, and began again. At one +place the main wall was so steep that the engineer was compelled to +climb to the top, let a man down by a rope, so that he could mark the +face of the cliff for the blasters, and then haul him up again. + +It was springtime when they began, and through the long days of that +short summer the engineers explored and mapped and located; and ever, +close behind them, they could hear the steady roar of Foy's fireworks as +the skilled blasters burst big boulders or shattered the shoulders of +great crags that blocked the trail of the iron horse. Ever and anon, +when the climbers and builders peered down into the ragged canon, they +saw a long line of pack-animals, bipeds and quadrupeds,--some hoofed and +some horned, some bleeding, some blind,--stumbling and staggering, +fainting and falling, the fittest fighting for the trail and gaining the +summit, whence the clear, green waters of the mighty Yukon would carry +them down to Dawson,--the Mecca of all these gold-mad men. As often as +the road-makers glanced at the pack-trains, they saw hundreds of +thousands of dollars' worth of traffic going past or waiting +transportation at Skagway, and each strained every nerve to complete the +work while the sun shone. + +By midsummer they began to appreciate the fact that this was to be a +hard job. When the flowers faded on the southern slopes, they were not +more than half-way up the hill. Each day the sun swung lower across the +canals, all the to-morrows were shorter than the yesterdays, and there +was not a man among them with a shade of sentiment, or a sense of the +beautiful, but sighed when the flowers died. Yes, they had learned to +love this maiden, Summer, that had tripped up from the south, smiled on +them, sung for a season, sighed, smiled once more, and then danced down +the Lynn again. + +"I'll come back," she seemed to say, peeping over the shoulder of a +glacier that stood at the stage entrance; "I'll come back, but ere I +come again there'll be strange scenes and sounds on this rude stage so +new to you. First, you will have a short season of melodrama by a +melancholy chap called Autumn, gloriously garbed in green and gold, with +splashes and dashes of lavender and lace, but sad, sweetly sad, and +sighing always, for life is such a little while." + +With a sadder smile, she kissed her rosy fingers and was gone,--gone +with her gorgeous garments, her ferns and flowers, her low, soft sighs +and sunny skies, and there was not a man that was a man but missed her +when she was gone. + +The autumn scene, though sombre and sad, was far from depressing, but +they all felt the change. John Hislop seemed to feel it more than all +the rest; for besides being deeply religious, he was deeply in love. His +nearest and dearest friend, Heney--happy, hilarious Heney--knew, and he +swore softly whenever a steamer landed without a message from +Minneapolis,--the long-looked-for letter that would make Hislop better +or worse. It came at length, and Hislop was happy. With his horse, his +dog, and a sandwich,--but never a gun,--he would make long excursions +down toward Lake Linderman, to Bennett, or over Atlin way. When the +country became too rough for the horse, he would be left picketed near a +stream with a faithful dog to look after him while the pathfinder +climbed up among the eagles. + +In the meantime Foy kept pounding away. Occasionally a soiled pedestrian +would slide down the slope, tell a wild tale of rich strikes, and a +hundred men would quit work and head for the highlands. Foy would storm +and swear and coax by turns, but to no purpose; for they were like so +many steers, and as easily stampeded. When the Atlin boom struck the +camp, Foy lost five hundred men in as many minutes. Scores of graders +dropped their tools and started off on a trot. The prospector who had +told the fable had thrown his thumb over his shoulder to indicate the +general direction. Nobody had thought to ask how far. Many forgot to +let go; and Heney's picks and shovels, worth over a dollar apiece, went +away with the stampeders. As the wild mob swept on, the tethered +blasters cut the cables that guyed them to the hills, and each loped +away with a piece of rope around one ankle. + +Panting, they passed over the range, these gold-crazed Coxeys, without a +bun or a blanket, a crust or a crumb, many without a cent or even a +sweat-mark where a cent had slept in their soiled overalls. + +When Foy had exhausted the English, Irish, and Alaskan languages in +wishing the men luck in various degrees, he rounded up the remnant of +his army and began again. In a day or two the stampeders began to limp +back hungry and weary, and every one who brought a pick or a shovel was +re-employed. But hundreds kept on toward Lake Bennett, and thence by +water up Windy Arm to the Atlin country, and many of them have not yet +returned to claim their time-checks. + +The autumn waned. The happy wives of young engineers, who had been +tented along the line during the summer, watched the wildflowers fade +with a feeling of loneliness and deep longing for their stout-hearted, +strong-limbed husbands, who were away up in the cloud-veiled hills; and +they longed, too, for other loved ones in the lowlands of their +childhood. Foy's blasters and builders buttoned their coats and buckled +down to keep warm. Below, they could hear loud peals of profanity as the +trailers, packers, and pilgrims pounded their dumb slaves over the +trail. Above, the wind cried and moaned among the crags, constantly +reminding them that winter was near at hand. The nights were longer than +the days. The working day was cut from ten to eight hours, but the pay +of the men had been raised from thirty to thirty-five cents an hour. + +One day a black cloud curtained the canon, and the workmen looked up +from their picks and drills to find that it was November and night. The +whole theatre, stage and all, had grown suddenly dark; but they knew, by +the strange, weird noise in the wings, that the great tragedy of winter +was on. Hislop's horse and dog went down the trail. Hawkins and Hislop +and Heney walked up and down among the men, as commanding officers show +themselves on the eve of battle. Foy chaffed the laborers and gave them +more rope; but no amount of levity could prevail against the universal +feeling of dread that seemed to settle upon the whole army. This weird +Alaska, so wild and grand, so cool and sweet and sunny in summer, so +strangely sad in autumn,--this many-mooded, little known Alaska that +seemed doomed ever to be misunderstood, either over-lauded or lied +about,--what would she do to them? How cruel, how cold, how weird, how +wickedly wild her winters must be! Most men are brave, and an army of +brave men will breast great peril when God's lamp lights the field; but +the stoutest heart dreads the darkness. These men were sore afraid, all +of them; and yet no one was willing to be the first to fall out, so they +stood their ground. They worked with a will born of desperation. + +The wind moaned hoarsely. The temperature dropped to thirty-five degrees +below zero, but the men, in sheltered places, kept pounding. Sometimes +they would work all day cleaning the snow from the grade made the day +before, and the next day it would probably be drifted full again. At +times the task seemed hopeless; but Heney had promised to build to the +summit of White Pass without a stop, and Foy had given Heney his hand +across a table at the Fifth Avenue Hotel in Skagway. + +At times the wind blew so frightfully that the men had to hold hands; +but they kept pegging away between blasts, and in a little while were +ready to begin bridging the gulches and deep side-canons. One day--or +one night, rather, for there were no days then--a camp cook, crazed by +the cold and the endless night, wandered off to die. Hislop and Heney +found him, but he refused to be comforted. He wanted to quit, but Heney +said he could not be spared. He begged to be left alone to sleep in the +warm, soft snow, but Heney brought him back to consciousness and to +camp. + +A premature blast blew a man into eternity. The wind moaned still more +drearily. The snow drifted deeper and deeper, and one day they found +that, for days and days, they had been blasting ice and snow when they +thought they were drilling the rock. Heney and Foy faced each other in +the dim light of a tent lamp that night. "Must we give up?" asked the +contractor. + +"No," said Foy, slowly, speaking in a whisper; "we'll build on snow, for +it's hard and safe; and in the spring we'll ease it down and make a +road-bed." + +They did so. They built and bedded the cross-ties on the snow, ballasted +with snow, and ran over that track until spring without an accident. + +They were making mileage slowly, but the awful strain was telling on the +men and on the bank account. The president of the company was almost +constantly travelling between Washington and Ottawa, pausing now and +again to reach over to London for another bag of gold, for they were +melting it up there in the arctic night--literally burning it up, were +these dynamiters of Foy's. + +To conceive this great project, to put it into shape, present it in +London, secure the funds and the necessary concessions from two +governments, survey and build, and have a locomotive running in Alaska +a year from the first whoop of the happy Klondiker, had been a mighty +achievement; but it was what Heney would call "dead easy" compared with +the work that confronted the President at this time. On July 20, 1897, +the first pick was driven into the ground at White Pass; just a year +later the pioneer locomotive was run over the road. More than once had +the financial backers allowed their faith in the enterprise and in the +future of the country beyond to slip away; but the President of the +company had always succeeded in building it up again, for they had never +lost faith in him, or in his ability to see things that were to most men +invisible. In summer, when the weekly reports showed a mile or more or +less of track laid, it was not so hard; but when days were spent in +placing a single bent in a bridge, and weeks were consumed on a switch +back in a pinched-out canon, it was hard to persuade sane men that +business sense demanded that they pile on more fuel. But they did it; +and, as the work went on, it became apparent to those interested in such +undertakings that all the heroes of the White Pass were not in the +hills. + +In addition to the elements, ever at war with the builders, they had +other worries that winter. Hawkins had a fire that burned all the +company's offices and all his maps and notes and records of surveys. Foy +had a strike, incited largely by jealous packers and freighters; and +there was hand-to-hand fighting between the strikers and their abettors +and the real builders, who sympathized with the company. + +Brydone-Jack, a fine young fellow, who had been sent out as consulting +engineer to look after the interests of the shareholders, clapped his +hands to his forehead and fell, face down, in the snow. His comrades +carried him to his tent. He had been silent, had suffered, perhaps for a +day or two, but had said nothing. The next night he passed away. His +wife was waiting at Vancouver until he could finish his work in Alaska +and go home to her. + +With sad and heavy hearts Hawkins and Hislop and Heney climbed back to +where Foy and his men were keeping up the fight. Like so many big +lightning-bugs they seemed, with their dim white lamps rattling around +in the storm. It was nearly all night then. God and his sunlight seemed +to have forsaken Alaska. Once every twenty-four hours a little ball of +fire, red, round, and remote, swung across the canon, dimly lighted +their lunch-tables, and then disappeared behind the great glacier that +guards the gateway to the Klondike. + +As the road neared the summit, Heney observed that Foy was growing +nervous, and that he coughed a great deal. He watched the old fellow, +and found that he was not eating well, and that he slept very little. +Heney asked Foy to rest, but the latter shook his head. Hawkins and +Hislop and Heney talked the matter over in Hislop's tent, called Foy in, +and demanded that he go down and out. Foy was coughing constantly, but +he choked it back long enough to tell the three men what he thought of +them. He had worked hard and faithfully to complete the job, and now +that only one level mile remained to be railed, would they send the old +man down the hill? "I will not budge," said Foy, facing his friends; +"an' when you gentlemen ar-re silibratin' th' vict'ry at the top o' the +hill ahn Chuesday nixt, Hugh Foy'll be wood ye. Do you moind that, +now?" + +Foy steadied himself by a tent-pole and coughed violently. His eyes were +glassy, and his face flushed with the purplish flush that fever gives. + +"Enough of this!" said the chief engineer, trying to look severe. "Take +this message, sign it, and send it at once." + +Foy caught the bit of white clip and read:-- + + "CAPTAIN O'BRIEN, + + SKAGWAY. + + "Save a berth for me on the 'Rosalie.'" + +They thought, as they watched him, that the old road-maker was about to +crush the paper in his rough right hand; but suddenly his face +brightened, he reached for a pencil, saying, "I'll do it," and when he +had added "next trip" to the message, he signed it, folded it, and took +it over to the operator. + +So it happened that, when the last spike was driven at the summit, on +February 20, 1899, the old foreman, who had driven the first, drove the +last, and it was _his_ last spike as well. Doctor Whiting guessed it was +pneumonia. + +When the road had been completed to Lake Bennett, the owners came over +to see it; and when they saw what had been done, despite the prediction +that Dawson was dead and that the Cape Nome boom would equal that of the +Klondike, they authorized the construction of another hundred miles of +road which would connect with the Yukon below the dreaded White Horse +Rapids. Jack and Foy and Hislop are gone; and when John Hislop passed +away, the West lost one of the most modest and unpretentious, yet one of +the best and bravest, one of the purest minded men that ever saw the sun +go down behind a snowy range. + + + + +NUMBER THREE + + +One winter night, as the west-bound express was pulling out of Omaha, a +drunken man climbed aboard. The young Superintendent, who stood on the +rear platform, caught the man by the collar and hauled him up the steps. + +The train, from the tank to the tail-lights, was crammed full of +passenger-people going home or away to spend Christmas. Over in front +the express and baggage cars were piled full of baggage, bundles, boxes, +trinkets, and toys, each intended to make some heart happier on the +morrow, for it was Christmas Eve. It was to see that these passengers +and their precious freight, already a day late, got through that the +Superintendent was leaving his own fireside to go over the road. + +The snow came swirling across the plain, cold and wet, pasting the +window and blurring the headlight on the black locomotive that was +climbing laboriously over the kinks and curves of a new track. Here and +there, in sheltered wimples, bands of buffalo were bunched to shield +them from the storm. Now and then an antelope left the rail or a lone +coyote crouched in the shadow of a telegraph-pole as the dim headlight +swept the right of way. At each stop the Superintendent would jump down, +look about, and swing onto the rear car as the train pulled out again. +At one time he found that his seat had been taken, also his overcoat, +which had been left hanging over the back. The thief was discovered on +the blind baggage and turned over to the "city marshal" at the next +stop. + +Upon entering the train again, the Superintendent went forward to find a +seat in the express car. It was near midnight now. They were coming into +a settlement and passing through prosperous new towns that were building +up near the end of the division. Near the door the messenger had set a +little green Christmas tree, and grouped about it were a red sled, a +doll-carriage, some toys, and a few parcels. If the blond doll in the +little toy carriage toppled over, the messenger would set it up again; +and when passing freight out he was careful not to knock a twig from +the tree. So intent was he upon the task of taking care of this +particular shipment that he had forgotten the Superintendent, and +started and almost stared at him when he shouted the observation that +the messenger was a little late with his tree. + +"'Tain't mine," he said sadly, shaking his head. "B'longs to the fellow +'t swiped your coat." + +"No!" exclaimed the Superintendent, as he went over to look at the toys. + +"If he'd only asked me," said the messenger, more to himself than to the +Superintendent, "he could 'a' had mine and welcome." + +"Do you know the man?" + +"Oh, yes--he lives next door to me, and I'll have to face his wife and +lie to her, and then face my own; but I can't lie to her. I'll tell her +the truth and get roasted for letting Downs get away. I'll go to sleep +by the sound of her sobs and wake to find her crying in her +coffee--that's the kind of a Christmas I'll have. When he's drunk he's +disgusting, of course; but when he's sober he's sorry. And Charley Downs +is honest." + +"Honest!" shouted the Superintendent. + +"Yes, I know he took your coat, but that wasn't Charley Downs; it was +the tarantula-juice he'd been imbibing in Omaha. Left alone he's as +honest as I am; and here's a run that would trip up a missionary. For +instance, leaving Loneville the other night, a man came running +alongside the car and threw in a bundle of bills that looked like a bale +of hay. Not a scrap of paper or pencil-mark, just a wad o' winnings with +a wang around the middle. 'A Christmas gift for my wife,' he yelled. +'How much?' I shouted. 'Oh, I dunno--whole lot, but it's tied good'; and +then a cloud of steam from the cylinder-cocks came between us, and I +haven't seen him since. + +"For the past six months Downs has tried hard to be decent, and has +succeeded some; and this was to be the supreme test. For six months his +wife has been saving up to send him to Omaha to buy things for +Christmas. If he could do that, she argued, and come back sober, he'd be +stronger to begin the New Year. Of course they looked to me to keep him +on the rail, and I did. I shadowed him from shop to shop until he +bought all the toys and some little trinkets for his wife. Always I +found he had paid and ordered the things to be sent to the express +office marked to me. + +"Well, finally I followed him to a clothing store, where, according to a +promise made to his wife, he bought an overcoat, the first he had felt +on his back for years. This he put on, of course, for it is cold in +Omaha to-day; and I left him and slipped away to grab a few hours' +sleep. + +"When I woke I went out to look for him, but could not find him, though +I tried hard, and came to my car without supper. I found his coat, +however, hung up in a saloon, and redeemed it, hoping still to find +Charley before train time. I watched for him until we were signalled +out, and then went back and looked through the train, but failed to find +him. + +"Of course I am sorry for Charley," the messenger went on after a pause, +"but more so for the poor little woman. She's worked and worked, and +saved and saved, and hoped and dreamed, until she actually believed he'd +been cured and that the sun would shine in her life again. Why, the +neighbors have been talking across the back fence about how well Mrs. +Downs was looking. My wife declared she heard her laugh the other day +clear over to our house. Half the town knew about her dream. The women +folks have been carrying work to her and then going over and helping her +do it as a sort of surprise party. And now it's all off. To-morrow will +be Christmas; and he'll be in jail, his wife in despair, and I in +disgrace. Charley Downs a thief--in jail! It'll just break her heart!" + +The whistle proclaimed a stop, and the Superintendent swung out with a +lump in his throat. This was an important station, and the last one +before Loneville. Without looking to the right or left, the +Superintendent walked straight to the telegraph office and sent the +following message to the agent at the place where Downs had been +ditched:-- + + "Turn that fellow loose and send him to Loneville on three--all + a joke. + + "W.C.V., Superintendent." + +In a little while the train was rattling over the road again; and when +the engine screamed for Loneville, the Superintendent stood up and +looked at the messenger. + +"What'll I tell her?" the latter asked. + +"Well, he got left at Cactus sure enough, didn't he? If that doesn't +satisfy her, tell her that he may get over on No. 3." + +When the messenger had turned his freight over to the driver of the +Fargo wagon, he gathered up the Christmas tree and the toys and trudged +homeward, looking like Santa Claus, so completely hidden was he by the +tree and the trinkets. As he neared the Downs' home, the door swung +open, the lamplight shone out upon him, and he saw two women smiling +from the open door. It took but one glance at the messenger's face to +show them that something was wrong, and the smiles faded. Mrs. Downs +received the shock without a murmur, leaning on her friend and leaving +the marks of her fingers on her friend's arm. + +The messenger put the toys down suddenly, silently; and feeling that the +unhappy woman would be better alone, the neighbors departed, leaving her +seated by the window, peering into the night, the lamp turned very low. + +The little clock on the shelf above the stove ticked off the seconds, +measured the minutes, and marked the melancholy hours. The storm ceased, +the stars came out and showed the quiet town asleep beneath its robe of +white. The clock was now striking four, and she had scarcely stirred. +She was thinking of the watchers of Bethlehem, when suddenly a great +light shone on the eastern horizon. At last the freight was coming. She +had scarcely noticed the messenger's suggestion that Charley might come +in on three. Now she waited, with just the faintest ray of hope; and +after a long while the deep voice of the locomotive came to her, the +long black train crept past and stopped. Now her heart beat wildly. +Somebody was coming up the road. A moment later she recognized her +erring husband, dressed exactly as he had been when he left home, his +short coat buttoned close up under his chin. When she saw him +approaching slowly but steadily, she knew he was sober and doubtless +cold. She was about to fling the door open to admit him when he stopped +and stood still. She watched him. He seemed to be wringing his hands. An +awful thought chilled her,--the thought that the cold and exposure had +unbalanced his mind. Suddenly he knelt in the snow and turned his sad +face up to the quiet sky. He was praying, and with a sudden impulse she +fell upon her knees and they prayed together with only the window-glass +between them. + +When the prodigal got to his feet, the door stood open and his wife was +waiting to receive him. At sight of her, dressed as she had been when he +left her, a sudden flame of guilt and shame burned through him; but it +served only to clear his brain and strengthen his will-power, which all +his life had been so weak, and lately made weaker for want of exercise. +He walked almost hurriedly to the chair she set for him near the stove, +and sank into it with the weary air of one who has been long in bed. She +felt of his hands and they were not cold. She touched his face and found +it warm. She pushed the dark hair from his pale forehead and kissed it. +She knelt and prayed again, her head upon his knee. He bowed above her +while she prayed, and stroked her hair. She felt his tears falling upon +her head. She stood up, and when he lifted his face to hers, looked +into his wide weeping eyes,--aye, into his very soul. She liked to see +the tears and the look of agony on his face, for she knew by these signs +how he suffered, and she knew why. + +When he had grown calm she brought a cup of coffee to him. He drank it, +and then she led him to the little dining-room, where a midnight supper +had been set for four, but, because of his absence, had not been +touched. He saw the tree and the toys that the messenger had left, and +spoke for the first time. "Oh, wife dear, have they all come? Are they +all here? The toys and all?" and then, seeing the overcoat that the +messenger had left on a chair near by, and which his wife had not yet +seen, he cried excitedly, "Take that away--it isn't mine!" + +"Why, yes, dear," said his wife, "it must be yours." + +"No, no," he said; "I bought a coat like that, but I sold it. I drank a +lot and only climbed on the train as it was pulling out of Omaha. In the +warm car I fell asleep and dreamed the sweetest dream I ever knew. I had +come home sober with all the things, you had kissed me, we had a great +dinner here, and there stood the Christmas tree, the children were here, +the messenger and his wife, and their children. We were all so happy! I +saw the shadow fade from your face, saw you smile and heard you laugh; +saw the old love-light in your eyes and the rose coming into your cheek. +And then--'Oh, bitterness of things too sweet!'--I woke to find my own +old trembling self again. It was all a dream. Looking across the aisle, +I saw that coat on the back of an empty seat. I knew it was not mine, +for I had sold mine for two miserable dollars. I knew, too, that the man +who gave them to me got them back again before they were warm in my +pocket. This thought embittered me, and, picking up the coat, I walked +out and stood on the platform of the baggage car. At the next stop they +took me off and turned me over to the city marshal,--for the coat +belonged to the Superintendent. + +"It is like mine, except that it is real, and mine, of course, was only +a good imitation. Take it away, wife--do take it away--it haunts me!" + +Pitying him, the wife put the coat out of his sight; and immediately he +grew calm, drank freely of the strong coffee, but he could not eat. +Presently he went over and began to arrange the little Christmas tree in +the box his wife had prepared for it during his absence. She began +opening the parcels, and when she could trust herself, began to talk +about the surprise they would have for the children, and now and again +to express her appreciation of some dainty trifle he had selected for +her. She watched him closely, noting that his hand was unsteady, and +that he was inclined to stagger after stooping for a little while. +Finally, when the tree had been trimmed, and the sled for the boy and +the doll-carriage for the girl were placed beneath it, she got him to +lie down. When she had made him comfortable she kissed him again, knelt +by his bed and prayed, or rather offered thanks, and he was asleep. + +Two hours later the subdued shouts of her babies, the exclamations of +glad surprise that came in stage whispers from the dining-room, woke +her, and she rose from the little couch where she had fallen asleep, +already dressed to begin the day. + +It was four o'clock in the afternoon when she called the prodigal. When +he had bathed his feverish face and put on the fresh clothes she had +brought in for him and come into the dining-room, he saw his rosy dreams +of the previous night fulfilled. The messenger and his wife shook hands +with him and wished him a Merry Christmas. His children, all the +children, came and kissed him. His wife was smiling, and the warm blood +leaping from her happy heart actually put color in her cheeks. + +As Downs took the chair at the head of the table he bowed his head, the +rest did likewise, and he gave thanks, fervently and without +embarrassment. + + + + +THE STUFF THAT STANDS + + +It was very late in the fifties, and Lincoln and Douglas were engaged in +animated discussion of the burning questions of the time, when Melvin +Jewett journeyed to Bloomington, Illinois, to learn telegraphy. + +It was then a new, weird business, and his father advised him not to +fool with it. His college chum said to him, as they chatted together for +the last time before leaving school, that it would be grewsomely lonely +to sit in a dimly lighted flag-station and have that inanimate machine +tick off its talk to him in the sable hush of night; but Jewett was +ambitious. Being earnest, brave, and industrious, he learned rapidly, +and in a few months found himself in charge of a little wooden +way-station as agent, operator, yard-master, and everything else. It was +lonely, but there was no night work. When the shadows came and hung on +the bare walls of his office the spook pictures that had been painted +by his school chum, the young operator went over to the little tavern +for the night. + +True, Springdale at that time was not much of a town; but the telegraph +boy had the satisfaction of feeling that he was, by common consent, the +biggest man in the place. + +Out in a hayfield, he could see from his window a farmer gazing up at +the humming wire, and the farmer's boy holding his ear to the pole, +trying to understand. All this business that so blinded and bewildered +with its mystery, not only the farmer, but the village folks as well, +was to him as simple as sunshine. + +In a little while he had learned to read a newspaper with one eye and +keep the other on the narrow window that looked out along the line; to +mark with one ear the "down brakes" signal of the north-bound freight, +clear in the siding, and with the other to catch the whistle of the +oncoming "cannon ball," faint and far away. + +When Jewett had been at Springdale some six or eight months, another +young man dropped from the local one morning, and said, "_Wie gehts_," +and handed him a letter. The letter was from the Superintendent, calling +him back to Bloomington to despatch trains. Being the youngest of the +despatchers, he had to take the "death trick." The day man used to work +from eight o'clock in the morning until four o'clock in the afternoon, +the "split trick" man from four until midnight, and the "death trick" +man from midnight until morning. + +We called it the "death trick" because, in the early days of +railroading, we had a lot of wrecks about four o'clock in the morning. +That was before double tracks and safety inventions had made travelling +by rail safer than sleeping at home, and before trainmen off duty had +learned to look not on liquor that was red. Jewett, however, was not +long on the night shift. He was a good despatcher,--a bit risky at +times, the chief thought, but that was only when he knew his man. He was +a rusher and ran trains close, but he was ever watchful and wide awake. + +In two years' time he had become chief despatcher. During these years +the country, so quiet when he first went to Bloomington, had been torn +by the tumult of civil strife. + +With war news passing under his eye every day, trains going south with +soldiers, and cars coming north with the wounded, it is not remarkable +that the fever should get into the young despatcher's blood. He read of +the great, sad Lincoln, whom he had seen and heard and known, calling +for volunteers, and his blood rushed red and hot through his veins. He +talked to the trainmen who came in to register, to enginemen waiting for +orders, to yardmen in the yards, and to shopmen after hours; and many of +them, catching the contagion, urged him to organize a company, and he +did. He continued to work days and to drill his men in the twilight. He +would have been up and drilling at dawn if he could have gotten them +together. He inspired them with his quiet enthusiasm, held them by +personal magnetism, and by unselfish patriotism kindled in the breast of +each of his fifty followers a desire to do something for his country. +Gradually the railroad, so dear to him, slipped back to second place in +the affairs of the earth. His country was first. To be sure, there was +no shirking of responsibility at the office, but the business of the +company was never allowed to overshadow the cause in which he had +silently but heartily enlisted. "Abe" Lincoln was, to his way of +reasoning, a bigger man than the President of the Chicago and Alton +Railroad--which was something to concede. The country must be cared for +first, he argued; for what good would a road be with no country to run +through? + +All day he would work at the despatcher's office, flagging fast freights +and "laying out" local passenger trains, to the end that the soldiers +might be hurried south. He would pocket the "cannon ball" and order the +"thunderbolt" held at Alton for the soldiers' special. "Take siding at +Sundance for troop train, south-bound," he would flash out, and glory in +his power to help the government. + +All day he would work and scheme for the company (and the Union), and at +night, when the silver moonlight lay on the lot back of the machine +shops, he would drill and drill as long as he could hold the men +together. They were all stout and fearless young fellows, trained and +accustomed to danger by the hazard of their daily toil. They knew +something of discipline, were used to obeying orders, and to reading +and remembering regulations made for their guidance; and Jewett reasoned +that they would become, in time, a crack company, and a credit to the +state. + +By the time he had his company properly drilled, young Jewett was so +perfectly saturated with the subject of war that he was almost unfit for +duty as a despatcher. Only his anxiety about south-bound troop trains +held his mind to the matter and his hand to the wheel. At night, after a +long evening in the drill field, he would dream of great battles, and +hear in his dreams the ceaseless tramp, tramp of soldiers marching down +from the north to re-enforce the fellows in the fight. + +Finally, when he felt that they were fit, he called his company together +for the election of officers. Jewett was the unanimous choice for +captain, other officers were chosen, and the captain at once applied for +a commission. + +The Jewetts were an influential family, and no one doubted the result of +the young despatcher's request. He waited anxiously for some time, wrote +a second letter, and waited again. "Any news from Springfield?" the +conductor would ask, leaving the register, and the chief despatcher +would shake his head. + +One morning, on entering his office, Jewett found a letter on his desk. +It was from the Superintendent, and it stated bluntly that the +resignation of the chief despatcher would be accepted, and named his +successor. + +Jewett read it over a second time, then turned and carried it into the +office of his chief. + +"Why?" echoed the Superintendent; "you ought to know why. For months you +have neglected your office, and have worked and schemed and conspired to +get trainmen and enginemen to quit work and go to war. Every day women +who are not ready to be widowed come here and cry on the carpet because +their husbands are going away with 'Captain' Jewett's company. Only +yesterday a schoolgirl came running after me, begging me not to let her +little brother, the red-headed peanut on the local, go as drummer-boy in +'Captain' Jewett's company. + +"And now, after demoralizing the service and almost breaking up a half a +hundred homes, you ask, 'Why?' Is that all you have to say?" + +"No," said the despatcher, lifting his head; "I have to say to you, sir, +that I have never knowingly neglected my duty. I have not conspired. I +have been misjudged and misunderstood; and in conclusion, I would say +that my resignation shall be written at once." + +Returning to his desk, Jewett found the long-looked-for letter from +Springfield. How his heart beat as he broke the seal! How timely--just +as things come out in a play. He would not interrupt traffic on the +Alton, but with a commission in his pocket would go elsewhere and +organize a new company. These things flashed through his mind as he +unfolded the letter. His eye fell immediately on the signature at the +end. It was not the name of the Governor, who had been a close friend of +his father, but of the Lieutenant-Governor. It was a short letter, but +plain; and it left no hope. His request had been denied. + +This time he did not ask why. He knew why, and knew that the influence +of a great railway company, with the best of the argument on its side, +would outweigh the influence of a train despatcher and his friends. + +Reluctantly Jewett took leave of his old associates in the office, went +to his room in the hotel, and sat for hours crushed and discouraged. +Presently he rose, kicked the kinks out of his trousers, and walked out +into the clear sunlight. At the end of the street he stepped from the +side-walk to the sod path and kept walking. He passed an orchard and +plucked a ripe peach from an overhanging bough. A yellow-breasted lark +stood in a stubble-field, chirped two or three times, and soared, +singing, toward the far blue sky. A bare-armed man, with a muley cradle, +was cradling grain, and, far away, he heard the hum of a horse-power +threshing machine. It had been months, it seemed years, since he had +been in the country, felt its cooling breeze, smelled the fresh breath +of the fields, or heard the song of a lark; and it rested and refreshed +him. + +When young Jewett returned to the town he was himself again. He had been +guilty of no wrong, but had been about what seemed to him his duty to +his country. Still, he remembered with sadness the sharp rebuke of the +Superintendent, a feeling intensified by the recollection that it was +the same official who had brought him in from Springdale, made a train +despatcher out of him, and promoted him as often as he had earned +promotion. If he had seemed to be acting in bad faith with the officials +of the road, he would make amends. That night he called his company +together, told them that he had been unable to secure a commission, +stated that he had resigned and was going away, and advised them to +disband. + +The company forming at Lexington was called "The Farmers," just as the +Bloomington company was known as the "Car-hands." "The Farmers" was +full, the captain said, when Jewett offered his services. At the last +moment one of the boys had "heart failure," and Jewett was taken in his +place. His experience with the disbanded "Car-hands" helped him and his +company immeasurably. It was only a few days after his departure from +Bloomington that he again passed through, a private in "The Farmers." + +Once in the South, the Lexington company became a part of the 184th +Illinois Infantry, and almost immediately engaged in fighting. Jewett +panted to be on the firing-line, but that was not to be. The regiment +had just captured an important railway which had to be manned and +operated at once. It was the only means of supplying a whole army corps +with bacon and beans. The colonel of his company was casting about for +railroaders, when he heard of Private Jewett. He was surprised to find, +in "The Farmers," a man of such wide experience as a railway official, +so well posted on the general situation, and so keenly alive to the +importance of the railroad and the necessity of keeping it open. Within +a week Jewett had made a reputation. If there had been time to name him, +he would doubtless have been called superintendent of transportation; +but there was no time to classify those who were working on the road. +They called him Jewett. In some way the story of the one-time captain's +experience at Bloomington came to the colonel's ears, and he sent for +Jewett. As a result of the interview, the young private was taken from +the ranks, made a captain, and "assigned to special duty." His special +duty was that of General Manager of the M. & L. Railroad, with +headquarters in a car. + +Jewett called upon the colonel again, uninvited this time, and +protested. He wanted to get into the fighting. "Don't worry, my boy," +said the good-natured colonel, "I'll take the fight out of you later on; +for the present, Captain Jewett, you will continue to run this +railroad." + +The captain saluted and went about his business. + +There had been some fierce fighting at the front, and the Yankees had +gotten decidedly the worst of it. Several attempts had been made to rush +re-enforcements forward by rail, but with poor success. The pilot +engines had all been ditched. As a last desperate chance, Jewett +determined to try a "black" train. Two engines were attached to a +troop-train, and Jewett seated himself on the pilot of the forward +locomotive. The lights were all put out. They were to have no pilot +engine, but were to slip past the ambuscade, if possible, and take +chances on lifted rails and absent bridges. It was near the end of a +dark, rainy night. The train was rolling along at a good freight clip, +the engines working as full as might be without throwing fire, when +suddenly, from either side of the track, a yellow flame flared out, +followed immediately by the awful roar of the muskets from whose black +mouths the murderous fire had rushed. The bullets fairly rained on the +jackets of the engines, and crashed through the cab windows. The +engineer on the head engine was shot from his seat. Jewett, in a hail of +lead, climbed over the running-board, pulled wide the throttle, and +whistled "off brakes." The driver of the second engine, following his +example, opened also, and the train was thus whirled out of range, but +not until Jewett had been badly wounded. A second volley rained upon the +rearmost cars, but did little damage. The enemy had been completely +outwitted. They had mistaken the train for a pilot engine, which they +had planned to let pass; after which they were to turn a switch, ditch, +and capture the train. + +There was great rejoicing in the hungry army at the front that dawn, +when the long train laden with soldiers and sandwiches arrived. The +colonel was complimented by the corps commander, but he was too big and +brave to accept promotion for an achievement in which he had had no part +or even faith. He told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the +truth; and, when it was all over, there was no more "Captain" Jewett. +When he came out of the hospital he had the rank of a major, but was +still "assigned to special duty." + +Major Jewett's work became more important as the great struggle went on. +Other lines of railway fell into the hands of the Yankees, and all of +them in that division of the army came under his control. They were good +for him, for they made him a very busy man and kept him from panting for +the firing-line. In conjunction with General D., the famous army +engineer, who has since become a noted railroad-builder, he rebuilt and +re-equipped wrecked railways, bridged wide rivers, and kept a way open +for men and supplies to get to the front. + +When at last the little, ragged, but ever-heroic remnant of the +Confederate army surrendered, and the worn and weary soldiers set their +faces to the north again, Major Jewett's name was known throughout the +country. + +At the close of the war, in recognition of his ability and great service +to the Union, Major Jewett was made a brevet colonel, by which title he +is known to almost every railway man in America. + + * * * * * + +Many opportunities came to Colonel Jewett to enter once more the field +in which, since his school days, he had been employed. One by one these +offers were put aside. They were too easy. He had been so long in the +wreck of things that he felt out of place on a prosperous, +well-regulated line. He knew of a little struggling road that ran east +from Galena, Illinois. It was called the Galena and something, for +Galena was at that time the most prosperous and promising town in the +wide, wild West. + +He sought and secured service on the Galena line and began anew. The +road was one of the oldest and poorest in the state, and one of the very +first chartered to build west from Chicago. It was sorely in need of a +young, vigorous, and experienced man, and Colonel Jewett's ability was +not long in finding recognition. Step by step he climbed the ladder +until he reached the General Managership. Here his real work began. Here +he had some say, and could talk directly to the President, who was one +of the chief owners. He soon convinced the company that to succeed they +must have more money, build more, and make business by encouraging +settlers to go out and plough and plant and reap and ship. The United +States government was aiding in the construction of a railway across the +"desert," as the West beyond the Missouri River was then called. Jewett +urged his company to push out to the Missouri River and connect with the +line to the Pacific, and they pushed. + +Ten years from the close of the war Colonel Jewett was at the head of +one of the most promising railroads in the country. Prosperity followed +peace, the West began to build up, the Pacific Railroad was completed, +and the little Galena line, with a new charter and a new name, had +become an important link connecting the Atlantic and the Pacific. + +For nearly half a century Jewett has been at the front, and has never +been defeated. The discredited captain of that promising company of +car-boys has become one of our great "captains of industry." He is +to-day President of one of the most important railroads in the world, +whose black fliers race out nightly over twin paths of steel, threading +their way in and out of not less than nine states, with nearly nine +thousand miles of main line. He has succeeded beyond his wildest dreams; +and his success is due largely to the fact that when, in his youth, he +mounted to ride to fame and fortune, he did not allow the first jolt to +jar him from the saddle. He is made of the stuff that stands. + + + + +THE MILWAUKEE RUN + + +Henry Hautman was born old. He had the face and figure of a voter at +fifteen. His skin did not fit his face,--it wrinkled and resembled a +piece of rawhide that had been left out in the rain and sun. + +Henry's father was a freighter on the Santa Fe trail when Independence +was the back door of civilization, opening on a wilderness. Little Henry +used to ride on the high seat with his father, close up to the tail of a +Missouri mule, the seventh of a series of eight, including the trailer +which his father drove in front of the big wagon. It was the wind of the +west that tanned the hide on Henry's face and made him look old before +his time. + +At night they used to arrange the wagons in a ring, in which the +freighters slept. + +One night Henry was wakened by the yells of Indians, and saw men +fighting. Presently he was swung to the back of a cayuse behind a +painted warrior, and as they rode away the boy, looking back, saw the +wagons burning and guessed the rest. + +Later the lad escaped and made his way to Chicago, where he began his +career on the rail, and where this story really begins. + +It was extremely difficult, in the early days, to find sober, reliable +young men to man the few locomotives in America and run the trains. A +large part of the population seemed to be floating, drifting west, west, +always west. So when this stout-shouldered, strong-faced youth asked for +work, the round-house foreman took him on gladly. Henry's boyhood had +been so full of peril that he was absolutely indifferent to danger and a +stranger to fear. He was not even afraid of work, and at the end of +eighteen months he was marked up for a run. He had passed from the +wiping gang to the deck of a passenger engine, and was now ready for the +road. + +Henry was proud of his rapid promotion, especially this last lift, that +would enable him to race in the moonlight along the steel trail, though +he recalled that it had cost him his first little white lie. + +One of the rules of the road said a man must be twenty-one years old +before he could handle a locomotive. Henry knew his book well, but he +knew also that the railroad needed his service and that he needed the +job; so when the clerk had taken his "Personal Record,"--which was only +a mild way of asking where he would have his body sent in case he met +the fate so common at that time on a new line in a new country,--he gave +his age as twenty, hoping the master-mechanic would allow him a year for +good behavior. + +Years passed. So did the Indian and the buffalo. The railway reached out +across the Great American Desert. The border became blurred and was +rubbed out. The desert was dotted with homes. Towns began to grow up +about the water-tanks and to bud and blow on the treeless plain. + +Henry Hautman became known as the coolest and most daring driver on the +road. He was a good engineer and a good citizen. He owned his home; and +while his pay was not what an engineer draws to-day for the same run +made in half the time, it was sufficient unto the day, his requirements, +and his wife's taste. + +Only one thing troubled him. He had bought a big farm not far from +Chicago, for which he was paying out of his savings. If he kept well, as +he had done all his life, three years more on the Limited would let him +out. Then he could retire a year ahead of time, and settle down in +comfort on the farm and watch the trains go by. + +It would be his salvation, this farm by the roadside; for the very +thought of surrendering the "La Salle" to another was wormwood and gall +to Henry. It never occurred to him to quit and go over to the N.W. or +the P.D. & Q., where they had no age limit for engineers. No man ever +thought of leaving the service of the Chicago, Milwaukee & Wildwood. The +road was one of the finest, and as for the run,--well, they used to say, +"Drive the Wildwood Limited and die." Henry had driven it for a decade +and had not died. When he looked himself over he declared he was the +best man, physically, on the line. But there was the law in the Book of +Rules,--the Bible of the C.M. & W.,--and no man might go beyond the +limit set for the retirement of engine-drivers; and Henry Hautman, the +favorite of the "old man," would take his medicine. They were a loyal +lot on the Milwaukee in those days. Superintendent Van Law declared them +clannish. "Kick a man," said he, "in St. Paul, and his friends will feel +the shock in the lower Mississippi." + +Time winged on, and as often as Christmas came it reminded the old +engineer that he was one year nearer his last trip; for his mother, now +sleeping in the far West, had taught him to believe that he had come to +her on Christmas Eve. + +How the world had aged in threescore years! Sometimes at night he had +wild dreams of his last day on the freight wagon, of the endless reaches +of waving wild grass, of bands of buffalo racing away toward the setting +sun, a wild deer drinking at a running stream, and one lone Indian on +the crest of a distant dune, dark, ominous, awful. Sometimes, from his +high seat at the front of the Limited, he caught the flash of a field +fire and remembered the burning wagons in the wilderness. + +But the wilderness was no more, and Henry knew that the world's greatest +civilizer, the locomotive, had been the pioneer in all this great work +of peopling the plains. The pathfinders, the real heroes of the +Anglo-Saxon race, had fought their way from the Missouri River to the +sundown sea. He recalled how they used to watch for the one opposing +passenger train. Now they flashed by his window as the mile-posts +flashed in the early days, for the line had been double-tracked so that +the electric-lighted hotels on wheels passed up and down regardless of +opposing trains. All these changes had been wrought in a single +generation; and Henry felt that he had contributed, according to his +light, to the great work. + +But the more he pondered the perfection of the service, the comfort of +travel, the magnificence of the Wildwood Limited, the more he dreaded +the day when he must take his little personal effects from the cab of +the La Salle and say good-bye to her, to the road, and hardest of all, +to the "old man," as they called the master-mechanic. + +One day when Henry was registering in the round-house, he saw a letter +in the rack for him, and carried it home to read after supper. + +When he read it, he jumped out of his chair. "Why, Henry!" said his +wife, putting down her knitting, "what ever's the matter,--open switch +or red light?" + +"Worse, Mary; it's the end of the track." + +The old engineer tossed the letter over to his wife, sat down, stretched +his legs out, locked his fingers, and began rolling his thumbs one over +the other, staring at the stove. + +When Mrs. Hautman had finished the letter she stamped her foot and +declared it an outrage. She suggested that somebody wanted the La Salle. +"Well," she said, resigning herself to her fate, "I bet I have that +coach-seat out of the cab,--it'll make a nice tete-a-tete for the front +room. Superannuated!" she went on with growing disgust. "I bet you can +put any man on the first division down three times in five." + +"It's me that's down, Mary,--down and out." + +"Henry Hautman, I'm ashamed of you! you know you've got four years come +Christmas--why don't you fight? Where's your Brotherhood you've been +paying money to for twenty years? I bet a 'Q' striker comes and takes +your engine." + +"No, Mary, we're beaten. I see how it all happened now. You see I began +at twenty when I was really but sixteen; that's where I lose. I lied to +the 'old man' when we were both boys; now that lie comes back to me, as +a chicken comes home to roost." + +"But can't you explain that now?" + +"Well, not easy. It's down in the records--it's Scripture now, as the +'old man' would say. No, the best I can do is to take my medicine like a +man; I've got a month yet to think it over." + +After that they sat in silence, this childless couple, trying to fashion +to themselves how it would seem to be superannuated. + +The short December days were all too short for Henry. He counted the +hours, marked the movements of the minute-hand on the face of his cab +clock, and measured the miles he would have, not to "do" but to enjoy, +before Christmas. As the weeks went by the old engineer became a changed +man. He had always been cheerful, happy, and good-natured. Now he +became thoughtful, silent, melancholy. There was not a man on the first +division but grieved because he was going, but no man would dare say so +to Henry. Sympathy is about the hardest thing a stout heart ever has to +endure. + +While Henry was out on his last trip his wife waited upon the +master-mechanic and asked him to bring his wife over and spend Christmas +Eve with Henry and help her to cheer him up; and the "old man" promised +to call that evening. + +Although there were half-a-dozen palms itching for the throttle of the +La Salle, no man had yet been assigned to the run. And the same kindly +feeling of sympathy that prompted this delay prevented the aspirants +from pressing their claims. Once, in the lodge room, a young member +eager for a regular run opened the question, but saw his mistake when +the older members began to hiss like geese, while the Worthy Master +smote the table with his maul. Henry saw the La Salle cross the +turn-table and back into the round-house, and while he "looked her +over," examining every link and pin, each lever and link-lifter, the +others hurried away; for it was Christmas Eve, and nobody cared to say +good-bye to the old engineer. + +When he had walked around her half-a-dozen times, touching her burnished +mainpins with the back of his hand, he climbed into the cab and began to +gather up his trinkets, his comb and tooth-brush, a small steel +monkey-wrench, and a slender brass torch that had been given to him by a +friend. Then he sat upon the soft cushioned coach-seat that his wife had +coveted, and looked along the hand-railing. He leaned from the cab +window and glanced along the twin stubs of steel that passed through the +open door and stopped short at the pit, symbolizing the end of his run +on the rail. The old boss wiper came with his crew to clean the La +Salle, but when he saw the driver there in the cab he passed him by. + +Long he sat in silence, having a last visit with La Salle, her brass +bands gleaming in the twilight. For years she had carried him safely +through snow and sleet and rain, often from dawn till dusk, and +sometimes from dusk till dawn again. She had been his life's companion +while on the road, who now, "like some familiar face at parting, gained +a graver grace." + +Presently the lamp-lighters came and began lighting the oil lamps that +stood in brackets along the wall; but before their gleam reached his +face the old engineer slid down and hurried away home with never a +backward glance. + + * * * * * + +That night when Mrs. Hautman had passed the popcorn and red apples, and +they had all eaten and the men had lighted cigars, the engineer's wife +brought a worn Bible out and drew a chair near the master-mechanic. The +"old man," as he was called, looked at the book, then at the woman, who +held it open on her lap. + +"Do you believe this book?" she asked earnestly. + +"Absolutely," he answered. + +"All that is written here?" + +"All," said the man. + +Then she turned to the fly-leaf and read the record of Henry's +birth,--the day, the month, and the year. + +Henry came and looked at the book and the faded handwriting, trying to +remember; but it was too far away. + +The old Bible had been discovered that day deep down in a trunk of old +trinkets that had been sent to Henry when his mother died, years ago. + +The old engineer took the book and held it on his knees, turned its limp +leaves, and dropped upon them the tribute of a strong man's tear. + +The "old man" called for the letter he had written, erased the date, set +it forward four years, and handed it back to Henry. + +"Here, Hank," said he, "here's a Christmas gift for you." + +So when the Wildwood Limited was limbered up that Christmas morning, +Henry leaned from the window, leaned back, tugged at the throttle again, +smiled over at the fireman, and said, "Now, Billy, watch her swallow +that cold, stiff steel at about a mile a minute." + + + + +BOOKS BY CY WARMAN + + +SHORT RAILS + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +N.Y. TIMES REVIEW. + +It is good for the soul that we should look into other worlds than our +own, and Mr. Warman knows how to put us beside fireman and engineer and +how to make us feel the poetry as well as the power of the tireless +giants that fulfil for us moderns the ancient dream of the +fire-breathing brazen bulls yoked for the service of man. + +THE OUTLOOK. + +A dozen or more spirited tales, tersely told, and with that surety of +touch which comes only from intimate knowledge.... The romance, danger, +bravery, plottings, and nobility of action incident to life on the rail +are all realistically depicted, and the reader feels the charm which +attaches to the new or strange. + +BOSTON ADVERTISER. + +The reader will find much pleasure, and no disappointment, in reading +these pages. + + +THE WHITE MAIL + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +THE NATION. + +Cy Warman can always impart a living interest to a story through his +close intimacy with locomotives, yard-masters, signals, switches, with +all that pertains to railroading, in a word--from a managers' meeting to +a frog. The tender enthusiasm he feels for the denizens of his iron +jungle is contagious. + +THE OUTLOOK + +Mr. Cy Warman, by long personal experience, acquired a close and exact +knowledge of the life of railroad men. "The White Mail" brings out +realistically the actual life of the engineer, the brakeman, and the +freight handler. + +THE CONGREGATIONALIST + +Cy Warman writes excellent railroad stories, of course, and his new one, +"The White Mail," is short, lively, and eminently readable. + +ST. LOUIS GLOBE-DEMOCRAT + +In "The White Mail," Cy Warman, in the pleasant, witty style for which +this poet of the Rockies has become noted, has presented a tender, +touching picture. + + +TALES OF AN ENGINEER + +_With Rhymes of the Rail_ + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +THE CONGREGATIONALIST + +There is true power in Cy Warman's "Tales of an Engineer," and the +reader yields willingly to the attraction of its blended novelty, +spirit, and occasional pathos. It does not lack humor, and every page is +worth reading. + +THE CHURCHMAN + +A new departure in literature should be interesting even if lacking in +the brilliant off-hand sketchiness of these pages. One steps into a new +life. There is not a dull page in this book, and much of it is of more +than ordinary interest. + +NEW YORK COMMERCIAL ADVERTISER + +There is a rugged directness about the description of rushing runs on +the rail, through which one can hear the thump-thump of the machinery as +the engine dashes over the rails, and which seems to be illumined by the +glow of the headlights and the colored signals. + + +THE EXPRESS MESSENGER + +_And Other Tales of the Rail_ + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +BOSTON TRANSCRIPT + +The author's work is familiarly and pleasantly known to magazine readers +for the realistic details of Western railroad life, which give them a +dashing, vital movement, though they are often highly romantic. The +romantic in them, however, seems very human--indeed, there is a ring of +true feeling in these little tales. + +BROOKLYN DAILY EAGLE + +Mr. Warman's work has about it the merit of a genuine realism, and it is +as full of romance and adventure as the most exacting reader could +desire. It is a volume of sketches that is well worth reading, not only +because they are well written and full of action, but for the pictures +they give of a life that the world really knows very little about. + +PHILADELPHIA PRESS + +The poet appears in the descriptive passages, and there is a melodious +rhythm to his prose style that is pleasurable in a high degree. Mr. +Warman has a field of his own, and he is master of it. + + +FRONTIER STORIES + +12mo. $1.25 + + * * * * * + +OPINIONS OF THE PRESS + +REVIEW OF REVIEWS + +Nobody knows his frontier life better than Mr. Warman, and his yarns of +Indians, striking miners, cowboys, half-breeds, and railroad men, are +full of vivid reality. There is plenty of romance and excitement in this +score of stories. + +THE CHURCHMAN + +Eighteen tales which certainly are excellent in their kind, quick, +breezy, full of the local color, yet with delightful touches of +universal humanity. + +CINCINNATI COMMERCIAL TRIBUNE + +They are honest little chapters of life simply written, an effective +word of slang stuck in here and there where it does not seem at all out +of place; honest, open-hearted, steady-eyed narratives all, with the +breeze of the Western prairies in every line, as well as the brotherhood +of man, and his triumphs and his failures impressing themselves upon you +at every turn. + +CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS + +153-157 FIFTH AVENUE, NEW YORK + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Spike, by Cy Warman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST SPIKE *** + +***** This file should be named 17572.txt or 17572.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/5/7/17572/ + +Produced by Melissa Er-Raqabi, Ted Garvin, Josephine +Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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