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+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #62830 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/62830)
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-Project Gutenberg's The Young Section-Hand, by Burton Egbert Stevenson
-
-This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most
-other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have
-to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook.
-
-Title: The Young Section-Hand
-
-Author: Burton Egbert Stevenson
-
-Illustrator: L. J. Bridgman
-
-Release Date: August 3, 2020 [EBook #62830]
-
-Language: English
-
-Character set encoding: UTF-8
-
-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND ***
-
-
-
-
-Produced by D A Alexander and the Online Distributed
-Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
-produced from images generously made available by the
-Library of Congress)
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
- THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND
-
-
-
-
-[Illustration: “CAUGHT THE CHILD FROM UNDER THE VERY WHEELS OF THE
-ENGINE”]
-
-
-
-
- THE YOUNG
- SECTION-HAND
-
- By BURTON E. STEVENSON
-
- Author of “The Holladay Case,” “Tommy
- Remington’s Battle,” etc.
-
- ILLUSTRATED BY
- L. J. BRIDGMAN
-
- Boston
- L. C. PAGE & COMPANY
- Mdccccv
-
-
-
-
- Copyright, 1905
- By L. C. Page & Company
- (INCORPORATED)
-
- All rights reserved
-
- Published July, 1905
-
- COLONIAL PRESS
- Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds & Co.
- Boston, U. S. A.
-
-
-
-
- TO
- E. B. S., G. W. P
- AND THE OTHER “BOYS” OF YARD
- AND SHOP AND OFFICE
- IN MEMORY
- OF THAT FAR-OFF TIME
- WHEN I “COVERED” THE RAILROAD
-
-
-
-
- CONTENTS
-
- I. The Bottom Round
- II. A New Experience
- III. An Adventure and a Story
- IV. Allan Meets an Enemy
- V. Allan Proves His Metal
- VI. Reddy to the Rescue
- VII. The Irish Brigade
- VIII. Good News and Bad
- IX. Reddy’s Exploit
- X. A Summons in the Night
- XI. Clearing the Track
- XII. Unsung Heroes
- XIII. A New Danger
- XIV. Allan Makes a Discovery
- XV. A Shot from Behind
- XVI. A Call to Duty
- XVII. A Night of Danger
- XVIII. The Signal in the Night
- XIX. Reddy Redivivus
- XX. The Road’s Gratitude
-
-
-
-
- ILLUSTRATIONS
-
- “Caught the child from under the very wheels of the engine”
-
- “Near at hand it was even more terrifying than at a distance”
-
- “He struck suddenly and viciously at the boy’s face”
-
- “Snatched the little one into the air just as the engine bore
- down upon it”
-
- “Just in time to escape a large boulder”
-
- “He stepped to one side, and ... brought down his club upon
- the other’s head”
-
-
-
-
- THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER I.
-
- THE BOTTOM ROUND
-
-
-“Excuse me, sir, but do you need a man?”
-
-Jack Welsh, foreman of Section Twenty-one, on the Ohio division of
-the P. & O., turned sharply around at sound of the voice and
-inspected the speaker for a moment.
-
-“A man, yes,” he said, at last. “But not a boy. This ain’t boy’s
-work.”
-
-And he bent over again to sight along the rail and make sure that
-the track was quite level.
-
-“Up a little!” he shouted to the gang who had their crowbars under
-the ties some distance ahead.
-
-They heaved at their bars painfully, growing red in the face under
-the strain.
-
-“That’ll do! Now keep it there!”
-
-Some of the men braced themselves and held on to their bars, while
-others hastened to tamp some gravel solidly under the ties to keep
-them in place. The foreman, at leisure for a moment, turned again to
-the boy, who had stood by with downcast face, plainly undecided what
-to do. Welsh had a kindly Irish heart, which not even the
-irksomeness of section work could sour, and he had noted the boy’s
-fresh face and honest eyes. It was not an especially handsome face,
-yet one worth looking twice at, if only for its frankness.
-
-“What’s yer name, sonny?” he asked.
-
-“Allan West.”
-
-“An’ where’d y’ come from?”
-
-“From Cincinnati.”
-
-The foreman looked the boy over again. His clothes were good, but
-the worn, dusty shoes told that the journey of nearly a hundred
-miles had been made on foot. He glanced again at the face—no, the
-boy was not a tramp; it was easy to see he was ambitious and had
-ideals; he was no idler—he would work if he had the chance.
-
-“What made y’ come all that way?” asked Welsh, at last.
-
-“I couldn’t find any work at Cincinnati,” said the boy, and it was
-evident that he was speaking the truth. “There’s too many people
-there out of work now. So I came on to Loveland and Midland City and
-Greenfield, but it’s the same story everywhere. I got some little
-jobs here and there, but nothing permanent. I thought perhaps at
-Wadsworth—”
-
-“No,” interrupted the foreman. “No, Wadsworth’s th’ same way—dead as
-a doornail. How old’re you?” he asked, suddenly.
-
-“Seventeen. And indeed I’m very strong,” added the boy, eagerly, as
-he caught a gleam of relenting in the other’s eye. “I’m sure I could
-do the work.”
-
-He wanted work desperately; he felt that he had to have it, and he
-straightened instinctively and drew a long breath of hope as he saw
-the foreman examining him more carefully. He had always been glad
-that he was muscular and well-built, but never quite so glad as at
-this moment.
-
-“It’s mighty hard work,” added Jack, reflectively. “Mighty hard. Do
-y’ think y’ could stand it?”
-
-“I’m sure I could, sir,” answered Allan, his face glowing. “Just let
-me try.”
-
-“An’ th’ pay’s only a dollar an’ a quarter a day.”
-
-The boy drew a quick breath.
-
-“That’s more than I’ve ever made regularly, sir,” he said. “I’ve
-always thought myself lucky if I could earn a dollar a day.”
-
-Jack smiled grimly.
-
-“You’ll earn your dollar an’ a quarter all right at this work,” he
-said. “An’ you’ll find it’s mighty little when it comes t’ feedin’
-an’ clothin’ an’ lodgin’ yerself. But you’d like t’ try, would y’?”
-
-“Yes, indeed!” said Allan.
-
-There could be no doubting his eagerness, and as he looked at him,
-Jack smiled again.
-
-“I don’t know what th’ road-master’ll say; mebbe he won’t let me
-keep you—I know he won’t if he sees you can’t do th’ work.” He
-looked down the line toward the gang, who stood leaning on their
-tools, enjoying the unusual privilege of a moment’s rest. “But I’m a
-man short,” he added. “I had t’ fire one this mornin’. We’ll try
-you, anyway. Put your coat an’ vest on th’ hand-car over there, git
-a pick an’ shovel an’ go up there with th’ gang.”
-
-The boy flushed with pleasure and hurried away toward the hand-car,
-taking off his coat and vest as he went. He was back again in a
-moment, armed with the tools.
-
-“Reddy, you show him the ropes!” shouted the foreman to one of the
-men.
-
-“All roight, sir!” answered Reddy, easily distinguishable by the
-colour of his hair. “Come over here, youngster,” he added, as Allan
-joined the group. “Now you watch me, an’ you’ll soon be as good a
-section-man as they is on th’ road.”
-
-The others laughed good-naturedly, then bent to work again,
-straightening the track. For this thing of steel and oak which bound
-the East to the West, and which, at first glance, would seem to have
-been built, like the Roman roads of old, to last for ever, was in
-constant need of attention. The great rails were of the toughest
-steel that forge could make; the ties were of the best and soundest
-oak; the gravel which served as ballast lay under them a foot deep
-and extended a foot on either side; the road-bed was as solid as the
-art of man could make it, pounded, tamped, and rolled, until it
-seemed strong as the eternal hills.
-
-Yet it did not endure. For every hour of the day there swept over
-it, pounding at it, the monstrous freight locomotives, weighing a
-hundred tons, marvels of strength and power, pulling long lines of
-heavy cars, laden with coal and iron and grain, hurrying to give the
-Old World of the abundance of the New. And every hour, too, there
-flashed over it, at a speed almost lightning-like, the through
-passenger trains—the engines slim, supple, panting, thoroughbred;
-the lumbering mail-cars and day coaches; the luxurious Pullmans far
-heavier than any freight-car.
-
-Day and night these thousands of tons hurled themselves along the
-rails, tearing at them at every curve, pounding them at every joint.
-Small wonder that they sometimes gave and spread, or broke short
-off, especially in zero weather, under the great pressure. Then,
-too, the thaws of spring loosened the road-bed and softened it;
-freshets undermined it and sapped the foundations of bridge and
-culvert. A red-hot cinder from the firebox, dropped on a wooden
-trestle, might start a disastrous blaze. And the least defect meant,
-perhaps, the loss of a score of lives.
-
-So every day, over the whole length of the line, gangs of
-section-men went up and down, putting in a new tie here, replacing a
-defective rail there, tightening bolts, straightening the track,
-clearing the ditches along the road of water lest it seep under the
-road-bed and soften it; doing a thousand and one things that only a
-section-foreman would think needful. And all this that passengers
-and freight alike might go in safety to their destinations; that the
-road, at the year’s end, might declare a dividend.
-
-There was nothing spectacular about their work; there was no romance
-connected with it. The passengers who caught a glimpse of them, as
-the train flashed by, never gave them a second thought. Their
-clothes were always tom and soiled; their hands hard and rough; the
-tugging at the bars had pulled their shoulders over into an
-ungraceful stoop; almost always they had the haggard, patient look
-of men who labour beyond their strength. But they were cogs in the
-great machine, just as important, in their way, as the big fly-wheel
-of a superintendent in the general offices; more important,
-sometimes, for the superintendent took frequent vacations, but the
-section work could not be neglected for a single day.
-
-Allan West soon discovered what soul-racking work it was. To raise
-the rigid track a fraction of an inch required that muscles be
-strained to bursting. To replace a tie was a task that tried every
-nerve and sinew. The sun beat down upon them mercilessly, bringing
-out the sweat in streams. But the boy kept at it bravely, determined
-to do his part and hold the place if he could. He was under a good
-teacher, for Reddy, otherwise Timothy Magraw, was a thorough-going
-section-hand. He knew his work inside and out, and it was only a
-characteristic Irish carelessness, a certain unreliability, that
-kept him in the ranks, where, indeed, he was quite content to stay.
-
-“Oi d’ want nothin’ else,” he would say. “Oi does me wor-rk, an’
-draws me pay, an’ goes home an’ goes t’ sleep, with niver a thing t’
-worrit me; while Welsh there’s a tossin’ aroun’ thinkin’ o’ what’s
-before him. Reespons’bility—that’s th’ thing Oi can’t stand.”
-
-On the wages he drew as section-hand—and with the assistance, in
-summer, of a little “truck-patch” back of his house—he managed to
-keep himself and his wife and numerous children clothed; they had
-enough to eat and a place to sleep, and they were all as happy as
-possible. So that, in this case, Reddy’s philosophy seemed not a
-half-bad one. Certainly this freedom from responsibility left him in
-perpetual good-humour that lightened the work for the whole gang and
-made the hours pass more swiftly. Under his direction, the boy soon
-learned just what was expected of him, and even drew a word of
-commendation from his teacher.
-
-“But don’t try to do the work all by yourself, me b’y,” he
-cautioned, noting Allan’s eagerness. “We’re all willing t’ help a
-little. If y’ try t’ lift that track by yerself, ye’ll wrinch y’r
-back, an’ll be laid up fer a week.”
-
-Allan laughed and coloured a little at this good-natured raillery.
-
-“I’ll try not to do more than my share,” he said.
-
-“That’s roight!” approved Reddy, with a nod. “Whin each man does his
-share, why, th’ wor-rk goes along stiddy an’ aisy. It’s whin we gits
-a shirker on th’ gang like that there Dan Nolan—”
-
-A chorus of low growls from the other men interrupted him. Nolan,
-evidently, was not a popular person.
-
-“Who was he?” asked Allan, at the next breathing-spell.
-
-“He’s th’ lazy hound that Jack fired from th’ gang this mornin’,”
-answered Reddy, his blue eyes blazing with unaccustomed wrath. “He’s
-a reg’lar bad ’un, he is. We used t’ think he was workin’ like
-anything, he’d git so red in th’ face, but come t’ find out he had a
-trick o’ holdin’ his breath t’ make hisself look that way. He was
-allers shirkin’, an’ when he had it in fer a feller, no trick was
-too mean or dir-rty fer him t’ try. Y’ remimber, boys, whin he
-dropped that rail on poor Tom Collins’s foot?”
-
-The gang murmured an angry assent, and bent to their work again. Rod
-by rod they worked their way down the track, lifting, straining,
-tamping down the gravel. Occasionally a train thundered past, and
-they stood aside, leaning on their tools, glad of the moment’s rest.
-At last, away in the distance, Allan caught the faint sound of
-blowing whistles and ringing bells. The foreman took out his watch,
-looked at it, and closed it with a snap.
-
-“Come on, boys,” he said. “It’s dinner-time!”
-
-They went back together to the hand-car at the side of the road,
-which was their base of supplies, and slowly got out their
-dinner-pails. Allan was sent with a bucket to a farmhouse a quarter
-of a mile away to get some fresh water, and, when he returned, he
-found the men already busy with their food. They drank the cool
-water eagerly, for the hot sun had given them a burning thirst.
-
-“Set down here,” said the foreman, “an’ dip in with me. I’ve got
-enough fer three men.”
-
-And Allan sat down right willingly, for his stomach was protesting
-loudly against its continued state of emptiness. Never did cheese,
-fried ham, boiled eggs, bread, butter, and apple pie taste better.
-The compartment in the top of the dinner-pail was filled with
-coffee, but a share of this the boy declined, for he had never
-acquired a taste for that beverage. At last he settled back with a
-long sigh of content.
-
-“That went t’ th’ right place, didn’t it?” asked Jack, with
-twinkling eyes.
-
-“That it did!” assented Allan, heartily. “I don’t know what I’d have
-done if you hadn’t taken pity on me,” he added. “I was simply
-starving.”
-
-“You had your breakfast this mornin’, didn’t y’?” demanded Jack,
-sharply.
-
-Allan coloured a little under his fierce gaze.
-
-“No, sir, I didn’t,” he said, rather hoarsely. “I couldn’t find any
-work to do, and I—I couldn’t beg!”
-
-Jack looked at him without speaking, but his eyes were suspiciously
-bright.
-
-“So you see, I just had to have this job,” Allan went on. “And now
-that I’ve got it, I’m going to do my best to keep it!”
-
-Jack turned away for a moment, before he could trust himself to
-speak.
-
-“I like your grit,” he said, at last. “It’s th’ right kind. An’ you
-won’t have any trouble keepin’ your job. But, man alive, why didn’t
-y’ tell me y’ was hungry? Jest a hint would ’a’ been enough! Why,
-th’ wife’ll never fergive me when she hears about it!”
-
-“Oh,” protested Allan, “I couldn’t—”
-
-He stopped without finishing the sentence.
-
-“Well, I’ll fergive y’ this time,” said Jack. “Are y’ sure y’ve ate
-all y’ kin hold?”
-
-“Every mite,” Allan assured him, his heart warming toward the
-friendly, weather-beaten face that looked at him so kindly. “I
-couldn’t eat another morsel!”
-
-“All right, then; we’ll see that it don’t occur ag’in,” said Jack,
-putting the cover on his pail, and then stretching out in an easier
-position. “Now, d’ y’ want a stiddy job here?” he asked.
-
-“If I can get it.”
-
-“I guess y’ kin git it, all right. But how about your home?”
-
-“I haven’t any home,” and the boy gazed out across the fields, his
-lips quivering a little despite his efforts to keep them still.
-
-The foreman looked at him for a moment. There was something in the
-face that moved him, and he held out his hand impulsively.
-
-“Here, shake!” he said. “I’m your friend.”
-
-The boy put his hand in the great, rough palm extended to him, but
-he did not speak—his throat was too full for that.
-
-“Now, if you’re goin’ t’ stay,” went on the other, “you’ve got t’
-have some place t’ board. I’ll board an’ room y’ fer three dollars a
-week. It won’t be like Delmonicer’s, but y’ won’t starve—y’ll git
-yer three square meals a day. That’ll leave y’ four-fifty a week fer
-clothes an’ things. How’ll that suit y’?”
-
-The boy looked at him gratefully.
-
-“You are very kind,” he said, huskily. “I’m sure it’s worth more
-than three dollars a week.”
-
-“No, it ain’t—not a cent more. Well, that’s settled. Some day,
-maybe, you’ll feel like tellin’ me about yerself. I’d like to hear
-it. But not now—wait till y’ git used t’ me.”
-
-A freight-train, flying two dirty white flags, to show that it was
-running extra and not on a definite schedule, rumbled by, and the
-train-crew waved their caps at the section-men, who responded in
-kind. The engineer leaned far out the cab window and shouted
-something, but his voice was lost in the roar of the train.
-
-“That’s Bill Morrison,” observed Jack, when the train was past.
-“There ain’t a finer engineer on th’ road. Two year ago he run into
-a washout down here at Oak Furnace. He seen it in time t’ jump, but
-he told his fireman t’ jump instead, and he stuck to her an’ tried
-to stop her. They found him in th’ ditch under th’ engine, with his
-leg mashed an’ his arm broke an’ his head cut open. He opened his
-eyes fer a minute as they was draggin’ him out, an’ what d’ y’ think
-he says?”
-
-Jack paused a moment, while Allan listened breathlessly, with
-fast-beating heart.
-
-“He says, ‘Flag Number Three!’ says he, an’ then dropped off
-senseless ag’in. They’d forgot all about Number Three, th’ fastest
-passenger-train on th’ road, an’ she’d have run into them as sure as
-shootin’, if it hadn’t been fer Bill. Well, sir, they hurried out a
-flagman an’ stopped her jest in time, an’ you ort t’ seen them
-passengers when they heard about Bill! They all went up t’ him where
-he was layin’ pale-like an’ bleedin’ on th’ ground, an’ they was
-mighty few of th’ men but what was blowin’ their noses; an’ as fer
-the women, they jest naturally slopped over! Well, they thought Bill
-was goin’ t’ die, but he pulled through. Yes, he’s still runnin’
-freight—he’s got t’ wait his turn fer promotion; that’s th’ rule o’
-th’ road. But he’s got th’ finest gold watch y’ ever seen; them
-passengers sent it t’ him; an’ right in th’ middle of th’ case it
-says, ‘Flag Number Three.’”
-
-Jack stopped and looked out over the landscape, more affected by his
-own story than he cared to show.
-
-As for Allan, he gazed after the fast disappearing train as though
-it were an emperor’s triumphal car.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER II.
-
- A NEW EXPERIENCE
-
-
-“When I was a kid,” continued Welsh, reminiscently, after a moment,
-“I was foolish, like all other kids. I thought they wasn’t nothin’
-in th’ world so much fun as railroadin’. I made up my mind t’ be a
-brakeman, fer I thought all a brakeman had t’ do was t’ set out on
-top of a car, with his legs a-hangin’ over, an’ see th’ country, an’
-wave his hat at th’ girls, an’ chase th’ boys off th’ platform, an’
-order th’ engineer around by shakin’ his hand at him. Gee whiz!” and
-he laughed and slapped his leg. “It tickles me even yet t’ think
-what an ijit I was!”
-
-“Did you try braking?” asked Allan.
-
-“Yes—I tried it,” and Welsh’s eyes twinkled; “but I soon got enough.
-Them wasn’t th’ days of air-brakes, an’ I tell you they was mighty
-little fun in runnin’ along th’ top of a train in th’ dead o’ winter
-when th’ cars was covered with ice an’ th’ wind blowin’ fifty mile
-an hour. They wasn’t no automatic couplers, neither; a man had t’ go
-right in between th’ cars t’ drop in th’ pin, an’ th’ engineer never
-seemed t’ care how hard he backed down on a feller. After about six
-months of it, I come t’ th’ conclusion that section-work was nearer
-my size. It ain’t so excitin’, an’ a man don’t make quite so much
-money; but he’s sure o’ gettin’ home t’ his wife when th’ day’s
-work’s over, an’ of havin’ all his legs an’ arms with him. That
-counts fer a whole lot, I tell yer!”
-
-He had got out a little black pipe as he talked, and filled it with
-tobacco from a paper sack. Then he applied a lighted match to the
-bowl and sent a long whiff of purple smoke circling upwards.
-
-“There!” he said, leaning back with a sigh of ineffable content.
-“That’s better—that’s jest th’ dessert a man wants. You don’t smoke,
-I guess?”
-
-“No,” and Allan shook his head.
-
-“Well, I reckon you’re as well off—better off, maybe; but I begun
-smokin’ when I was knee high to a duck.”
-
-“You were telling me about that engineer,” prompted Allan, hoping
-for another story. “Are there any more like him?”
-
-“Plenty more!” answered Jack, vigorously. “Why, nine engineers out
-o’ ten would ’a’ done jest what he done. It comes nat’ral, after a
-feller’s worked on th’ road awhile. Th’ road comes t’ be more t’ him
-than wife ’r childer—it gits t’ be a kind o’ big idol thet he bows
-down an’ worships; an’ his engine’s a little idol thet he thinks
-more of than he does of his home. When he ain’t workin’, instead of
-stayin’ at home an’ weedin’ his garden, or playin’ with his childer,
-he’ll come down t’ th’ roundhouse an’ pet his engine, an’ polish her
-up, an’ walk around her an’ look at her, an’ try her valves an’
-watch th’ stokers t’ see thet they clean her out proper. An’ when
-she wears out ’r breaks down, why, you’d think he’d lost his best
-friend. There was old Cliff Gudgeon. He had a swell passenger run on
-th’ east end; but when they got t’ puttin’ four ’r five sleepers on
-his train, his old engine was too light t’ git over th’ road on
-time, so they give him a new one—a great big one—a beauty. An’ what
-did Cliff do? Well, sir, he said he was too old t’ learn th’ tricks
-of another engine, an’ he’d stick to his old one, an’ he’s runnin’ a
-little accommodation train up here on th’ Hillsboro branch at
-seventy-five a month, when he might ’a’ been makin’ twict that
-a-handlin’ th’ Royal Blue. Then, there’s Reddy Magraw—now, t’ look
-at Reddy, y’ wouldn’t think he was anything but a chuckle-headed
-Irishman. Yet, six year ago—”
-
-Reddy had caught the sound of his name, and looked up suddenly.
-
-“Hey, Jack, cut it out!” he called.
-
-Welsh laughed good-naturedly.
-
-“All right!” he said. “He’s th’ most modest man in th’ world, is
-Reddy. But they ain’t all that way. There’s Dan Nolan,” and Jack’s
-face darkened. “I had him on th’ gang up till this mornin’, but I
-couldn’t stan’ him no longer, so I jest fired him. That’s th’ reason
-there was a place fer you, m’ boy.”
-
-“Yes,” said Allan, “Reddy was telling me about him. What was it he
-did?”
-
-“He didn’t do anything,” laughed Jack. “That was th’ trouble. He was
-jest naturally lazy—sneakin’ lazy an’ mean. There’s jest two things
-a railroad asks of its men—you might as well learn it now as any
-time—they must be on hand when they’re needed, an’ they must be
-willin’ t’ work. As long as y’re stiddy an’ willin’ t’ work, y’
-won’t have no trouble holdin’ a job on a railroad.”
-
-Allan looked out across the fields and determined that in these two
-respects, at least, he would not be found wanting. He glanced at the
-other group, gossiping together in the shade of a tree. They were
-not attractive-looking, certainly, but he was beginning to learn
-already that a man may be brave and honest, whatever his appearance.
-They were laughing at one of Reddy’s jokes, and Allan looked at him
-with a new respect, wondering what it was he had done. The foreman
-watched the boy’s face with a little smile, reading his thoughts.
-
-“He ain’t much t’ look at, is he?” he said. “But you’ll soon
-learn—if you ain’t learnt already—that you can’t judge a man’s
-inside by his outside. There’s no place you’ll learn it quicker than
-on a railroad. Railroad men, barrin’ th’ passenger train crews, who
-have t’ keep themselves spruced up t’ hold their jobs, ain’t much t’
-look at, as a rule, but down at th’ bottom of most of them there
-allers seems t’ be a _man_—a real man—a man who don’t lose his head
-when he sees death a-starin’ him in th’ face, but jest grits his
-teeth an’ sticks to his post an’ does his duty. Railroad men ain’t
-little tin gods nor plaster saints—fur from it!—but they’re worth a
-mighty sight more than either. There was Jim Blakeson, th’
-skinniest, lankest, most woe-begone-lookin’ feller I ever see
-outside of a circus. He was brakin’ front-end one night on third
-ninety-eight, an’—”
-
-From afar off came the faint blowing of whistles, telling that, in
-the town of Wadsworth, the wheels in the factories had started up
-again, that men and women were bending again to their tasks, after
-the brief noon hour. Welsh stopped abruptly, much to Allan’s
-disappointment, knocked out his pipe against his boot-heel, and rose
-quickly to his feet. If there was one article in Welsh’s code of
-honour which stood before all the rest, it was this: That the
-railroad which employed him should have the full use of the ten
-hours a day for which it paid. To waste any part of that time was to
-steal the railroad’s money. It is a good principle for any man—or
-for any boy—to cling to.
-
-“One o’clock!” he cried. “Come on, boys! We’ve got a good stretch o’
-track to finish up down there.”
-
-The dinner-pails were replaced on the hand-car and it was run down
-the road about half a mile and then derailed again. The straining
-work began; tugging at the bars, tamping gravel under the ties,
-driving new spikes, replacing a fish-plate here and there. And the
-new hand learned many things.
-
-He learned that with the advent of the great, modern, ten-wheeled
-freight locomotives, all the rails on the line had been replaced
-with heavier ones weighing eighty-five pounds to the yard,—850
-pounds to their thirty feet of length,—the old ones being too light
-to carry such enormous weights with safety. They were called
-T-rails, because, in cross-section, they somewhat resembled that
-letter. The top of the rail is the “head”; the thinner stem, the
-“web”; and the wide, flat bottom, the “base.” Besides being spiked
-down to the ties, which are first firmly bedded in gravel or crushed
-stone, the rails are bolted together at the ends with iron bars
-called “fish-plates.” These are fitted to the web, one on each side
-of the junction of two rails, and bolts are then passed through them
-and nuts screwed on tightly.
-
-This work of joining the rails is done with such nicety, and the
-road-bed built so solidly, that there is no longer such a great
-rattle and bang as the trains pass over them—a rattle and bang
-formerly as destructive to the track as to the nerves of the
-passenger. It is the duty of the section-foreman to see that the six
-or eight miles of track which is under his supervision is kept in
-the best possible shape, and to inspect it from end to end twice
-daily, to guard against any possibility of accident.
-
-As the hours passed, Allan’s muscles began to ache sadly, but there
-were few chances to rest. At last the foreman perceived that he was
-overworking himself, and sent him and Reddy back to bring up the
-hand-car and prepare for the homeward trip. They walked back to
-where it stood, rolled it out upon the track, and pumped it down to
-the spot where the others were working, Reddy giving Allan his first
-lesson in how to work the levers, for there is a right and wrong way
-of managing a hand-car, just as there is a right and wrong way of
-doing everything else.
-
-“That’s about all we kin do to-day,” and Jack took out his watch and
-looked at it reflectively, as the car came rolling up. “I guess we
-kin git in before Number Six comes along. What y’ think?” and he
-looked at Reddy.
-
-“How much time we got?” asked the latter, for only the foreman of
-the gang could afford to carry a watch.
-
-“Twelve minutes.”
-
-“That’s aisy! We kin make it in eight without half-tryin’!”
-
-“All right!” and Jack thrust the watch back into his pocket. “Pile
-on, boys!”
-
-And pile on they did, bringing their tools with them. They seized
-the levers, and in a moment the car was spinning down the track.
-There was something fascinating and invigorating in the motion. As
-they pumped up and down, Allan could see the fields, fences, and
-telegraph-poles rushing past them. It seemed to him that they were
-going faster even than the “flier.” The wind whistled against him
-and the car jolted back and forth in an alarming way.
-
-“Hold tight!” yelled Reddy, and they flashed around a curve, across
-a high trestle, through a deep cut, and down a long grade on the
-other side. Away ahead he could see the chimneys of the town
-nestling among the trees. They were down the grade in a moment, and
-whirling along an embankment that bordered a wide and placid river,
-when the car gave a sudden, violent jolt, ran for fifty feet on
-three wheels, and then settled down on the track again.
-
-“Stop her!” yelled the foreman. “Stop her!”
-
-They strained at the levers, but the car seemed alive and sprang
-away from them. Twice she almost shook them off, then sullenly
-succumbed, and finally stopped.
-
-“Somethin’s th’ matter back there!” panted Jack. “Give her a shove,
-Reddy!”
-
-Reddy jumped off and started her back up the track. In a moment the
-levers caught, and they were soon at the place where the jolt had
-occurred.
-
-The foreman sprang off and for an instant bent over the track. Then
-he straightened up with stern face.
-
-“Quick!” he cried. “Jerk that car off th’ track and bring two
-fish-plates an’ some spikes. West, take that flag, run up th’ track
-as far as y’ kin, an’ flag Number Six. Mind, don’t stop runnin’ till
-y’ see her. She’ll have her hands full stoppin’ on that grade.”
-
-With beating heart Allan seized the flag and ran up the track as
-fast as his legs would carry him. The thought that the lives of
-perhaps a hundred human beings depended upon him set his hands to
-trembling and his heart to beating wildly. On and on he went, until
-his breath came in gasps and his head sang. It seemed that he must
-have covered a mile at least, yet it was only a few hundred feet.
-And then, away ahead, he saw the train flash into sight around the
-curve and come hurtling down the grade toward him.
-
-He shook loose the flag and waved it wildly over his head, still
-running forward. He even shouted, not realizing how puny his voice
-was. The engine grew larger and larger with amazing swiftness. He
-could hear the roar of the wheels; a shaft of steam leaped into the
-air, and, an instant later, the wind brought him the sound of a
-shrill whistle. He saw the engineer leaning from his window, and,
-with a great sob of relief, knew that he had been seen. He had just
-presence of mind to spring from the track, and the train passed him,
-the wheels grinding and shrieking under the pressure of the
-air-brakes, the drivers of the engine whirling madly backwards. He
-caught a glimpse of startled passengers peering from the windows,
-and then the train was past. But it was going slower and slower, and
-stopped at last with a jerk.
-
-When he reached the place, he found Jack explaining to the conductor
-about the broken fish-plates and the loose rail. What had caused it
-could not be told with certainty—the expansion from the heat,
-perhaps, or the vibration from a heavy freight that had passed half
-an hour before, or a defect in the plates, which inspection had not
-revealed. Allan sat weakly down upon the overturned hand-car. No one
-paid any heed to him, and he was astonished that they treated the
-occurrence so lightly. Jack and the engineer were joking together.
-Only the conductor seemed worried, and that was because the delay
-would throw his train a few minutes late.
-
-Half a dozen of the passengers, who had been almost hurled from
-their seats by the suddenness of the stop, came hurrying up. All
-along the line of coaches windows had been raised, and white,
-anxious faces were peering out. Inside the coaches, brakemen and
-porters were busy picking up the packages that had been thrown from
-the racks, and reassuring the frightened people.
-
-“What’s the matter?” gasped one of the passengers, a tall, thin,
-nervous-looking man, as soon as he reached the conductor’s side.
-“Nothing serious, I hope? There’s no danger, is there? My wife and
-children are back there—”
-
-The conductor smiled at him indulgently.
-
-“There’s no danger at all, my dear sir,” he interrupted. “The
-section-gang here flagged us until they could bolt this rail down.
-That is all.”
-
-“But,” protested the man, looking around for sympathy, and obviously
-anxious not to appear unduly alarmed, “do you usually throw things
-about that way when you stop?”
-
-“No,” said the conductor, smiling again; “but you see we were on a
-heavy down-grade, and going pretty fast. I’d advise you gentlemen to
-get back into the train at once,” he added, glancing at his watch
-again. “We’ll be starting in a minute or two.”
-
-The little group of passengers walked slowly back and disappeared
-into the train. Allan, looking after them, caught his first glimpse
-of one side of railroad policy—a policy which minimizes every
-danger, which does its utmost to keep every peril from the knowledge
-of its patrons—a wise policy, since nervousness will never add to
-safety. Away up the track he saw the brakeman, who had been sent
-back as soon as the train stopped, to prevent the possibility of a
-rear-end collision, and he understood dimly something of the
-wonderful system which guards the safety of the trains.
-
-Then, suddenly, he realized that he was not working, that his place
-was with that little group labouring to repair the track, and he
-sprang to his feet, but at that instant Jack stood back with a sigh
-of relief and turned to the conductor.
-
-“All right,” he said.
-
-The conductor raised his hand, a sharp whistle recalled the
-brakeman, who came down the track on a run; the engineer opened his
-throttle; there was a long hiss of escaping steam, and the train
-started slowly. As it passed him, Allan could see the passengers
-settling back contentedly in their seats, the episode already
-forgotten. In a moment the train was gone, growing rapidly smaller
-away down the track ahead of them. A few extra spikes were driven in
-to further strengthen the place, and the hand-car was run out on the
-track again.
-
-“Y’ made pretty good time,” said Jack to the boy; and then, as he
-saw his white face, he added, “Kind o’ winded y’, didn’t it?”
-
-Allan nodded, and climbed silently to his place on the car.
-
-“Shook y’r nerve a little, too, I reckon,” added Jack, as the car
-started slowly. “But y’ mustn’t mind a little thing like that, m’
-boy. It’s all in th’ day’s work.”
-
-All in the day’s work! The flagging of a train was an ordinary
-incident in the lives of these men. There had, perhaps, been no
-great danger, yet the boy caught his breath as he recalled that
-fearful moment when the train rushed down upon him. All in the day’s
-work—for which the road paid a dollar and a quarter!
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER III.
-
- AN ADVENTURE AND A STORY
-
-
-Jack Welsh, section-foreman, lived in a little frame house perched
-high on an embankment just back of the railroad yards. The bank had
-been left there when the yards had been levelled down, and the
-railroad company, always anxious to promote habits of sobriety and
-industry in its men, and knowing that no influence makes for such
-habits as does the possession of a home, had erected a row of
-cottages along the top of the embankment, and offered them on easy
-terms to its employés. They weren’t palatial—they weren’t even
-particularly attractive—but they were homes.
-
-In front, the bank dropped steeply down to the level of the yards,
-but behind they sloped more gently, so that each of the cottages had
-a yard ample for a vegetable garden. To attend to this was the work
-of the wife and the children—a work which always yielded a bountiful
-reward.
-
-There were six cottages in the row, but one was distinguished from
-the others in summer by a mass of vines which clambered over it, and
-a garden of sweet-scented flowers which occupied the little front
-yard. This was Welsh’s, and he never mounted toward it without a
-feeling of pride and a quick rush of affection for the little woman
-who found time, amid all her household duties, to add her mite to
-the world’s beauty. As he glanced at the other yards, with their
-litter of trash and broken playthings, he realized, more keenly
-perhaps than most of us do, what a splendid thing it is to render
-our little corner of the world more beautiful, instead of making it
-uglier, as human beings have a way of doing.
-
-It was toward this little vine-embowered cottage that Jack and Allan
-turned their steps, as soon as the hand-car and tools had been
-deposited safely in the little section shanty. As they neared the
-house, a midget in blue calico came running down the path toward
-them.
-
-“It’s Mamie,” said Welsh, his face alight with tenderness; and, as
-the child swept down upon him, he seized her, kissed her, and swung
-her to his shoulder, where she sat screaming in triumph.
-
-They mounted the path so, and, at the door, Mrs. Welsh, a little,
-plump, black-eyed woman, met them.
-
-“I’ve brought you a boarder, Mary,” said Welsh, setting Mamie down
-upon her sturdy little legs. “Allan West’s his name. I took him on
-th’ gang to-day, an’ told him he might come here till he found some
-place he liked better.”
-
-“That’s right!” and Mrs. Welsh held out her hand in hearty welcome,
-pleased with the boy’s frank face. “We’ll try t’ make you
-comf’terble,” she added. “You’re a little late, Jack.”
-
-“Yes, we had t’ stop t’ fix a break,” he answered; and he told her
-in a few words the story of the broken fish-plates. “It don’t happen
-often,” he added, “but y’ never know when t’ expect it.”
-
-“No, y’ never do,” agreed Mary, her face clouding for an instant,
-then clearing with true Irish optimism. “You’ll find th’ wash-basin
-out there on th’ back porch, m’ boy,” she added to Allan, and he
-hastened away to cleanse himself, so far as soap and water could do
-it, of the marks of the day’s toil.
-
-Mrs. Welsh turned again to her husband as soon as the boy was out of
-ear-shot.
-
-“Where’d you pick him up, Jack?” she asked. “He ain’t no common
-tramp.”
-
-“Not a bit of it,” agreed her husband. “He looks like a nice boy. He
-jest come along an’ wanted a job. He said he’d come from Cincinnati,
-an’ hadn’t any home; but he didn’t seem t’ want t’ talk about
-hisself.”
-
-“No home!” repeated Mary, her heart warming with instant sympathy.
-“Poor boy! We’ll have t’ look out fer him, Jack.”
-
-“I knew you’d say that, darlint!” cried her husband, and gave her a
-hearty hug.
-
-“Go ’long with you!” cried Mary, trying in vain to speak sternly. “I
-smell th’ meat a-burnin’!” and she disappeared into the kitchen,
-while Jack joined Allan on the back porch.
-
-How good the cool, clean water felt, splashed over hands and face;
-what a luxury it was to scrub with the thick lather of the soap, and
-then rinse off in a brimming basin of clear water; how delicious it
-was to be clean again! Jack dipped his whole head deep into the
-basin, and then, after a vigorous rubbing with the towel, took his
-station before a little glass and brushed his black hair until it
-presented a surface almost as polished as the mirror’s own.
-
-Then Mamie came with the summons to supper, and they hurried in to
-it, for ten hours’ work on section will make even a confirmed
-dyspeptic hungry—yes, and give him power properly to digest his
-food.
-
-How pretty the table looked, with its white cloth and shining
-dishes! For Mary was a true Irish housewife, with a passion for
-cleanliness and a pride in her home. It was growing dark, and a lamp
-had been lighted and placed in the middle of the board, making it
-look bright and cosy.
-
-“You set over there, m’ boy,” said Mary, herself taking the
-housewife’s inevitable place behind the coffee-pot, with her husband
-opposite. “Now, Mamie, you behave yourself,” she added, for Mamie
-was peeping around the lamp at Allan with roguish eyes. “We’re all
-hungry, Jack, so don’t keep us waitin’.”
-
-And Jack didn’t.
-
-How good the food smelt, and how good it tasted! Allan relished it
-more than he would have done any dinner of “Delmonicer’s,” for Mary
-was one of the best of cooks, and only the jaded palate relishes the
-sauces and fripperies of French chefs.
-
-“A girl as can’t cook ain’t fit t’ marry,” Mary often said; a maxim
-which she had inherited from her mother, and would doubtless hand
-down to Mamie. “There’s nothin’ that’ll break up a home quicker ’n a
-bad cook, an’ nothin’ that’ll make a man happier ’n a good one.”
-
-Certainly, if cooking were a test, this supper was proof enough of
-her fitness for the state of matrimony. There was a great platter of
-ham and eggs, fluffy biscuits, and the sweetest of yellow butter.
-And, since he did not drink coffee, Allan was given a big glass of
-fragrant milk to match Mamie’s. They were tasting one of the best
-sweets of toil—to sit down with appetite to a table well-laden.
-
-After supper, they gathered on the front porch, and sat looking down
-over the busy, noisy yards. The switch-lamps gleamed in long rows,
-red and green and white, telling which tracks were open and which
-closed. The yard-engines ran fussily up and down, shifting the
-freight-cars back and forth, and arranging them in trains to be sent
-east or west. Over by the roundhouse, engines were being run in on
-the big turntable and from there into the stalls, where they would
-be furbished up and overhauled for the next trip. Others were being
-brought out, tanks filled with water, and tenders heaped high with
-coal, ready for the run to Parkersburg or Cincinnati. They seemed
-almost human in their impatience to be off—breathing deeply in loud
-pants, the steam now and then throwing up the safety-valve and
-“popping off” with a great noise.
-
-The clamour, the hurry, the rush of work, never ceasing from dawn to
-dawn, gave the boy a dim understanding of the importance of this
-great corporation which he had just begun to serve. He was only a
-very little cog in the vast machine, to be sure, but the smoothness
-of its running depended upon the little cogs no less than on the big
-ones.
-
-A man’s figure, indistinct in the twilight, stopped at the gate
-below and whistled.
-
-“There’s Reddy Magraw,” said Jack, with a laugh. “I’d forgot—it was
-so hot t’-day, we thought we’d go over t’ th’ river an’ take a dip
-t’-night. Do you know how t’ swim, Allan?”
-
-“Just a little,” answered Allan; “all I know about it was picked up
-in the swimming-pool at the gymnasium at Cincinnati.”
-
-“Well, it’s time y’ learned more,” said Jack. “Every boy ought t’
-know how t’ swim—mebbe some day not only his own life but the lives
-o’ some o’ his women-folks’ll depend on him. Come along, an’ we’ll
-give y’ a lesson.”
-
-“I’ll be glad to!” Allan cried, and ran indoors for his hat.
-
-Reddy whistled again.
-
-“We’re comin’,” called Jack. “We won’t be gone long,” he added to
-his wife, as they started down the path.
-
-“All right, dear,” she answered. “An’ take good care o’ th’ boy.”
-
-Reddy greeted Allan warmly, and thoroughly agreed with Jack that it
-was every boy’s duty to learn how to swim. Together they started off
-briskly toward the river—across the yards, picking their way
-carefully over the maze of tracks, then along the railroad
-embankment which skirted the stream, and finally through a
-corn-field to the water’s edge. The river looked very wide and still
-in the semidarkness, and Allan shivered a little as he looked at it;
-but the feeling passed in a moment. Reddy had his clothes off first,
-and dived in with a splash; Jack waded in to show Allan the depth.
-The boy followed, with sudden exhilaration, as he felt the cool
-water rise about him.
-
-“This is different from a swimmin’-pool, ain’t it?” said Jack.
-
-“Indeed it is!” agreed Allan; “and a thousand times nicer!”
-
-“Now,” added Jack, “let me give you a lesson,” and he proceeded to
-instruct Allan in the intricacies of the broad and powerful breast
-stroke.
-
-The boy was an apt pupil, and at the end of twenty minutes had
-mastered it sufficiently to be able to make fair progress through
-the water. He would have kept on practising, but Jack stopped him.
-
-“We’ve been in long enough,” he said; “you mustn’t overdo it. Come
-along, Reddy,” he called to that worthy, who was disporting himself
-out in the middle of the current.
-
-As they turned toward the shore the full moon peeped suddenly over a
-little hill on the eastern horizon, and cast a broad stream of
-silver light across the water, touching every ripple and little wave
-with magic beauty.
-
-“Oh, look!” cried Allan. “Look!”
-
-They stood and watched the moon until it sailed proudly above the
-hill, and then waded to the bank, rubbed themselves down briskly,
-and resumed their clothes, cleansed and purified in spirit as well
-as body. They made their way back through the corn-field, but just
-as they reached the embankment, Reddy stopped them with a quick,
-stifled cry.
-
-“Whist!” he said, hoarsely. “Look there! What’s that?”
-
-Straining his eyes through the darkness, Allan saw, far down the
-track ahead of them, a dim, white figure. It seemed to be going
-through some sort of pantomime, waving its arms wildly above its
-head.
-
-“It’s a ghost!” whispered Reddy, breathing heavily. “It’s Tim
-Dorsey’s ghost! D’ y’ raymimber, Jack, it was jist there thet th’
-poor feller was killed last month! That’s his ghost, sure as I’m
-standin’ here!”
-
-“Oh, nonsense!” retorted Jack, with a little laugh, but his heart
-was beating faster than usual, as he peered through the darkness at
-the strange figure. What could it be that would stand there and wave
-its arms in that unearthly fashion?
-
-“It’s his ghost!” repeated Reddy. “Come on, Jack; Oi’m a-goin’
-back!”
-
-“Well, I’m not!” said Jack. “I’m not afraid of a ghost, are you,
-Allan?”
-
-“I don’t believe in ghosts,” said Allan, but it must be confessed
-that his nerves were not wholly steady as he kept his eyes on the
-strange figure dancing there in the moonlight.
-
-“If it ain’t a ghost, what is it?” demanded Reddy, hoarsely.
-
-“That’s just what we’re goin’ t’ find out,” answered Jack, and
-started forward, resolutely.
-
-Allan went with him, but Reddy kept discreetly in the rear. He was
-no coward,—he was as brave as any man in facing a danger which he
-knew the nature of,—but all the superstition of his untutored Irish
-heart held him back from this unearthly apparition.
-
-As they drew near, its lines became more clearly defined; it was
-undoubtedly of human shape, but apparently it had no head, only a
-pair of short, stubby arms, which waved wildly in the air, and a
-pair of legs that danced frantically. Near at hand it was even more
-terrifying than at a distance, and their pace grew slower and
-slower, while Reddy stopped short where he was, his teeth
-chattering, his eyes staring. They could hear what seemed to be a
-human voice proceeding from the figure, raised in a sort of weird
-incantation, now high, now low. Was it really a ghost? Allan asked
-himself; was it really the spirit of the poor fellow whose life had
-been crushed out a few weeks before? could it be....
-
-[Illustration: “NEAR AT HAND IT WAS EVEN MORE TERRIFYING THAN AT A
-DISTANCE”]
-
-Suddenly Jack laughed aloud with relief, and hurried forward.
-
-“Come on,” he called. “It’s no ghost!”
-
-And in a moment Allan saw him reach the figure and pull the white
-garment down over its head, disclosing a flushed and wrathful, but
-very human, face.
-
-“Thankee, sir,” said a hoarse voice to Jack. “A lady in th’ house
-back there give me a clean shirt, an’ I was jest puttin’ it on when
-I got stuck in th’ durn thing, an’ couldn’t git it either way. I
-reckon I’d ’a’ suffocated if you hadn’t come along!”
-
-Jack laughed again.
-
-“We thought you was a ghost!” he said. “You scared Reddy, there, out
-of a year’s growth, I reckon. Come here, Reddy,” he called, “an’
-take a look at yer ghost!”
-
-Reddy came cautiously forward and examined the released tramp.
-
-“Well,” he said, at last, “if you ain’t a ghost, you ought t’ be! I
-never seed anything that looked more loike one!”
-
-“No, an’ you never will!” retorted Jack. “Come along; it’s time we
-was home,” and leaving the tramp to complete his toilet, they
-hurried away.
-
-They found Mary sitting on the front porch, crooning softly to
-herself as she rocked Mamie to sleep. They bade Reddy good night,
-and sat down beside her.
-
-“Well, did y’ have a nice time?” she asked.
-
-“Yes,” laughed Jack, and told her the story of the ghost.
-
-They sat silent for a time after that, looking down over the busy
-yards, breathing in the cool night air, watching the moon as it
-sailed slowly up the heavens. Allan felt utterly at rest; for the
-first time in many days he felt that he had a home, that there were
-people in the world who loved him. The thought brought the quick
-tears to his eyes; an impulse to confide in these new friends surged
-up within him.
-
-“I want to tell you something about myself,” he said, turning to
-them quickly. “It’s only right that you should know.”
-
-Mrs. Welsh stopped the lullaby she had been humming, and sat quietly
-waiting.
-
-“Just as y’ please,” said Jack, but the boy knew he would be glad to
-hear the story.
-
-“It’s not a very long one,” said Allan, his lips trembling, “nor an
-unusual one, for that matter. Father was a carpenter, and we lived
-in a little home just out of Cincinnati—he and mother and I. We were
-very happy, and I went to school every day, while father went in to
-the city to his work. But one day I was called from school, and when
-I got home I found that father had fallen from a scaffolding he had
-been working on, and was so badly injured that he had been taken to
-a hospital. We thought for a long time that he would die, but he got
-better slowly, and at last we were able to take him home. But he was
-never able to work any more,—his spine had been injured so that he
-could scarcely move himself,—and our little savings grew smaller and
-smaller.”
-
-Allan stopped, and looked off across the yards, gripping his hands
-together to preserve his self-control.
-
-“Father worried about it,” he went on, at last; “worried so much
-that he grew worse and worse, until—until—he brought on a fever. He
-hadn’t any strength to fight with. He just sank under it, and died.
-I was fifteen years old then—but boys don’t understand at the time
-how hard things are. After he was gone—well, it seems now, looking
-back, that I could have done something more to help than I did.”
-
-“There, now, don’t be a-blamin’ yerself,” said Jack, consolingly.
-
-The little woman in the rocking-chair leaned over and touched his
-arm softly, caressingly.
-
-“No; don’t be blamin’ yerself,” she said. “I know y’ did th’ best y’
-could. They ain’t so very much a boy kin do, when it’s money that’s
-needed.”
-
-“No,” and Allan drew a deep breath; “nor a woman, either. Though it
-wasn’t only that; I’d have worked on; I wouldn’t have given
-up—but—but—”
-
-“Yes,” said Mary, understanding with quick, unfailing sympathy; “it
-was th’ mother.”
-
-“She did the best she could,” went on Allan, falteringly. “She tried
-to bear up for my sake; but after father was gone she was never
-quite the same again; she never seemed to rally from the shock of
-it. She was never strong to start with, and I saw that she grew
-weaker and weaker every day.” He stopped and cleared his voice.
-“That’s about all there is to the story,” he added. “I got a little
-from the furniture and paid off some of the debts, but I couldn’t do
-much. I tried to get work there, but there didn’t seem to be anybody
-who wanted me. There were some distant relatives, but I had never
-known them—and besides, I didn’t want to seem a beggar. There wasn’t
-anything to keep me in Cincinnati, so I struck out.”
-
-“And y’ did well,” said Welsh. “I’m mighty glad y’ come along jest
-when y’ did. Y’ll find enough to do here, if y’ will keep a willin’
-hand. Section work ain’t much, but maybe y’ can git out of it after
-awhile. Y’ might git a place in th’ yard office if ye’re good at
-figgers. Ye’ve got more eddication than some. It’s them that git
-lifted.”
-
-“You’d better talk!” said the wife. “’Tain’t every man with an
-eddication that gits t’ be foreman at your age.”
-
-“No more it ain’t,” and Jack smiled. “Come on; it’s time t’ go t’
-bed. Say good night t’ th’ boy, Mamie.”
-
-“Night,” murmured Mamie, sleepily, and held out her moist, red lips.
-
-With a quick warmth at his heart, Allan stooped and kissed them. It
-was the first kiss he had given or received since his mother’s
-death, and, after he had got to bed in the little hot attic room,
-with its single window looking out upon the yards, he lay for a long
-time thinking over the events of the day, and his great good fortune
-in falling in with these kindly people. Sometime, perhaps, he might
-be able to prove how much their kindness meant to him.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER IV.
-
- ALLAN MEETS AN ENEMY
-
-
-It was not until morning that Allan realized how unaccustomed he was
-to real labour. As he tried to spring from bed in answer to Jack’s
-call, he found every muscle in revolt. How they ached! It was all he
-could do to slip his arms into his shirt, and, when he bent over to
-put on his shoes, he almost cried out at the twinge it cost him. He
-hobbled painfully down-stairs, and Jack saw in a moment what was the
-matter.
-
-“Yer muscles ain’t used t’ tuggin’ at crowbars an’ shovellin’
-gravel,” he said, laughing. “It’ll wear off in a day or two, but
-till then ye’ll have t’ grin an’ bear it, fer they ain’t no cure fer
-it. But y’ ain’t goin’ t’ work in them clothes!”
-
-“They’re all I have here,” answered Allan, reddening. “I have a
-trunk at Cincinnati with a lot more in, and I thought I’d write for
-it to-day.”
-
-“But I reckon ye ain’t got any clothes tough enough fer this work.
-I’ll fix y’ out,” said Welsh, good-naturedly.
-
-So, after breakfast, he led Allan over to a railroad outfitting shop
-and secured him a canvas jumper, a pair of heavy overalls, and a
-pair of rough, strong, cowhide shoes.
-
-“There!” he said, viewing his purchases with satisfaction. “Y’ kin
-pay fer ’em when y’ git yer first month’s wages. Y’ kin put ’em on
-over in th’ section shanty. You go along over there; I’ve got t’
-stop an’ see th’ roadmaster a minute.”
-
-Allan walked on quickly, his bundle under his arm, past the long
-passenger station and across the maze of tracks in the lower yards.
-Here lines of freight-cars were side-tracked, waiting their turn to
-be taken east or west; and, as he hurried past, a man came suddenly
-out from behind one of them and laid a strong hand on his arm.
-
-“Here, wait a minute!” he said, roughly. “I’ve got somethin’ t’ say
-t’ you. Come in here!” And before Allan could think of resistance,
-he was pulled behind the row of cars.
-
-Allan found himself looking up into a pair of small, glittering
-black eyes, deeply set in a face of which the most prominent
-features were a large nose, covered with freckles, and a
-thick-lipped mouth, which concealed the jagged teeth beneath but
-imperfectly. He saw, too, that his captor was not much older than
-himself, but that he was considerably larger and no doubt stronger.
-
-“Ye’re th’ new man on Twenty-one, ain’t you?” he asked, after a
-moment’s fierce examination of Allan’s face.
-
-“Yes, I went to work yesterday,” said Allan.
-
-“Well, y’ want t’ quit th’ job mighty quick, d’ y’ see? I’m Dan
-Nolan, an’ it’s my job y’ve got. I’d ’a’ got took back if ye hadn’t
-come along. So ye’re got t’ git out, d’ y’ hear?”
-
-“Yes, I hear,” answered Allan, quietly, reddening a little; and his
-heart began to beat faster at the prospect of trouble ahead.
-
-“If y’ know what’s good fer y’, y’ll git out!” said Nolan, savagely,
-clenching his fists. “When’ll y’ quit?”
-
-“As soon as Mr. Welsh discharges me,” answered Allan, still more
-quietly.
-
-Nolan glared at him for a moment, seemingly unable to speak.
-
-“D’ y’ mean t’ say y’ won’t git out when I tells you to? I’ll show
-y’!” And he struck suddenly and viciously at the boy’s face.
-
-But Allan had been expecting the onslaught, and sprang quickly to
-one side. Before Nolan could recover himself, he had ducked under
-one of the freight-cars and come up on the other side. Nolan ran
-around the end of the car, but the boy was well out of reach.
-
-“I’ll ketch y’!” he cried after him, shaking his fists. “An’ when I
-do ketch y’—”
-
-He stopped abruptly and dived back among the cars, for he had caught
-sight of Jack Welsh coming across the yards. Allan saw him, too, and
-waited for him.
-
-“Wasn’t that Dan Nolan?” he asked, as he came up.
-
-“Yes, it was Nolan,” answered Allan.
-
-“Was he threatenin’ you?”
-
-[Illustration: “HE STRUCK SUDDENLY AND VICIOUSLY AT THE BOY’S FACE”]
-
-“Yes; he told me to get out or he’d lay for me.”
-
-“He did, eh?” and Jack’s lips tightened ominously. “What did y’ tell
-him?”
-
-“I told him I’d get out when you discharged me.”
-
-“Y’ did?” and Jack clapped him on the shoulder. “Good fer you! Let
-me git my hands on him once, an’ he’ll lave ye alone! But y’ want t’
-look out fer him, m’ boy. If he’d fight fair, y’ could lick him; but
-he’s a big, overgrown brute, an’ ’ll try t’ hit y’ from behind
-sometime, mebbe. That’s his style, fer he’s a coward.”
-
-“I’ll look out for him,” said Allan; and walked on with beating
-heart to the section shanty. Here, while Jack told the story of the
-encounter with Nolan, Allan donned his new garments and laid his
-other ones aside. The new ones were not beautiful, but at least they
-were comfortable, and could defy even the wear and tear of work on
-section.
-
-The spin on the hand-car out into the open country was full of
-exhilaration, and, after an hour’s work, Allan almost forgot his
-sore muscles. He found that to-day there was a different class of
-work to do. The fences along the right of way were to be repaired,
-and the right of way itself placed in order—the grass cut back from
-the road-bed, the gravel piled neatly along it, weeds trimmed out,
-rubbish gathered up, cattle-guards, posts, and fences at crossings
-whitewashed. All this, too, was a revelation to the new hand. He had
-never thought that a railroad required so much attention. Rod after
-rod was gone over in this way, until it seemed that not a stone was
-out of place. It was not until the noon-hour, when he was eating his
-portion of the lunch Mrs. Welsh had prepared for them, that he
-learned the reason for all this.
-
-“Y’ see we’re puttin’ on a few extry touches,” remarked Jack. “Th’
-Irish Brigade goes over th’ road next week.”
-
-“The Irish Brigade?” questioned Allan; and he had a vision of some
-crack military organization.
-
-“Yes, th’ Irish Brigade. Twict a year, all th’ section foremen on
-th’ road ’r’ taken over it t’ look at th’ other sections, an’ see
-which man keeps his in th’ best shape. Each man’s section’s graded,
-an’ th’ one that gits th’ highest grade gits a prize o’ fifty
-dollars. We’re goin’ t’ try fer that prize. So’s every other
-section-gang on th’ line.”
-
-“But what is the Irish Brigade?” questioned the boy.
-
-“The foremen of the section-men. There’s about a hundred, and the
-officers give us that name. There’s many a good Irishman like myself
-among the foremen;” and a gleam of humour was in Jack’s eyes. “They
-say I’m puttin’ my Irish back of me in my talk, but the others stick
-to it, more or less. It’s a great time when the Irish Brigade takes
-its inspection tour.”
-
-Allan worked with a new interest after that, for he, too, was
-anxious that Jack’s section should win the fifty dollars. He could
-guess how much such a sum would mean to him. He confided his hopes
-to Reddy, while they were working together cutting out some weeds
-that had sprung up along the track, but the latter was not
-enthusiastic.
-
-“Oi don’t know,” he said. “They’s some mighty good section-men on
-this road. Why, last year, when Flaherty, o’ Section Tin, got th’
-prize, his grass looked like it ’ud been gone over with a lawnmower,
-an’ he’d aven scrubbed th’ black gr’ase from th’ ingines off th’
-toies. Oh, it looked foine; but thin, so did all th’ rist.”
-
-But Allan was full of hope. As he looked back over the mile they had
-covered since morning, he told himself that no stretch of track
-could possibly be in better order. But, to the foreman’s more
-critical and experienced eye, there were still many things wanting,
-and he promised himself to go over it again before inspection-day
-came around.
-
-Every train that passed left some mark behind. From the freights
-came great pieces of greasy waste, which littered up the ties, or
-piles of ashes sifted down from the fire-box; while with the
-passengers it was even worse. The people threw from the coach
-windows papers, banana peelings, boxes and bags containing remnants
-of lunch, bottles, and every kind of trash. They did not realize
-that all this must be patiently gathered up again, in order that the
-road-bed might be quite free from litter. Not many of them would
-have greatly cared.
-
-“It’s amazin’,” remarked Reddy, in the course of the afternoon, “how
-little people r’ally know about railroadin’, an’ thin think they
-know ’t all. They think that whin th’ road’s built, that’s all they
-is to it, an’ all th’ expinse th’ company’s got’s fer runnin’ th’
-trains. Why, on this one division, from Cincinnati t’ Parkersburg,
-they’s more’n two hunderd men a-workin’ ivery day jest kapin’ up th’
-track. Back there in th’ shops, they’s foive hundred more, repairin’
-an’ rebuildin’ ingines an’ cars. At ivery little crossroads they’s
-an operator, an’ at ivery little station they’s six or eight people
-busy at work. Out east, they tell me, they’s a flagman at ivery
-crossin’. Think o’ what all that costs!”
-
-“But what’s the use of keeping the road-bed so clean?” asked Allan.
-“Nobody ever sees it.”
-
-“What’s th’ use o’ doin’ anything roight?” retorted Reddy. “I tell
-you ivery little thing counts in favour of a road, or agin it. This
-here road’s spendin’ thousands o’ dollars straightenin’ out curves
-over there in th’ mountings, so’s th’ passengers won’t git shook up
-so much, an’ th’ trains kin make a little better toime. Why, I’ve
-heerd thet some roads even sprinkle th’ road-bed with ile t’ lay th’
-dust!
-
-“Human natur’ ’s a funny thing,” he added, shaking his head
-philosophically, “’specially when it comes t’ railroads. Many’s th’
-man Oi’ve seen nearly break his neck t’ git acrost th’ track in
-front of a train, an’ thin stop t’ watch th’ train go by; an’ many
-another loafer, who never does anything but kill toime, ’ll worrit
-hisself sick if th’ train he’s on happens t’ be tin minutes late.
-It’s th’ man who ain’t got no business that’s always lettin’ on t’
-have th’ most. Here comes th’ flier,” he added, as a shrill whistle
-sounded from afar up the road.
-
-They stood aside to watch the train shoot past with a rush and roar,
-to draw into the station at Wadsworth on time to the minute.
-
-“That was Jem Spurling on th’ ingine,” observed Reddy, as they went
-back to work. “Th’ oldest ingineer on th’ road—an’ th’ nerviest.
-Thet’s th’ reason he’s got th’ flier. Most fellers loses their nerve
-after they’ve been runnin’ an ingine a long time, an’ a year ’r two
-back, Jem got sort o’ shaky fer awhile—slowed down when they wasn’t
-no need of it, y’ know; imagined he saw things on th’ track ahead,
-an’ lost time. Well, th’ company wouldn’t stand fer thet, ’specially
-with th’ flier, an’ finally th’ train-master told him thet if he
-couldn’t bring his train in on time, he’d have t’ go back t’
-freight. Well, sir, it purty nigh broke Jem’s heart.
-
-“‘Oi tell y’, Mister Schofield,’ he says t’ th’ train-master, ‘Oi’ll
-bring th’ train in on toime if they’s a brick house on th’ track.’
-
-“‘All right,’ says Mr. Schofield; ‘thet’s all we ask,’ an’ Jem went
-down to his ingine.
-
-“Th’ next day Jem come into th’ office t’ report, an’ looked aroun’
-kind o’ inquirin’ like.
-
-“‘Any of it got here yet?’ he asks.
-
-“‘Any o’ what?’ asks Mr. Schofield.
-
-“‘Any o’ thet coal,’ says Jem.
-
-“‘What coal?’ asks Mr. Schofield.
-
-“‘Somebody left a loaded coal-car on th’ track down here by th’
-chute,’ says Jem.
-
-“‘They did?’
-
-“‘Yes,’ says Jem; ‘thought they’d throw me late, most likely; but
-they didn’t. Oi’m not loike a man what’s lost his nerve—not by a
-good deal.’
-
-“‘But th’ car—how’d y’ git around it?’ asks Mr. Schofield.
-
-“‘Oh, Oi didn’t try t’ git around it,’ says Jem. ‘Oi jest pulled her
-wide open an’ come through. They’s about a ton o’ coal on top o’ th’
-rear coach, an’ Oi thought maybe I’d find th’ rest of it up here. I
-guess it ain’t come down yit.’
-
-“‘But, great Scott, man!’ says Mr. Schofield, ‘that was an awful
-risk.’
-
-“‘Oi guess Oi’d better run my ingine down t’ th’ repair shop,’ went
-on Jem, cool as a cucumber. ‘Her stack’s gone, an’ the pilot, an’
-th’ winders o’ th’ cab are busted. But Oi got in on toime.’
-
-“Well, they laid Jem off fer a month,” concluded Reddy, “but they’ve
-niver said anything since about his losin’ his nerve.”
-
-So, through the afternoon, Reddy discoursed of the life of the rail,
-and told stories grave and gay, related tragedies and comedies,
-described hair-breadth escapes, and with it all managed to impart to
-his hearer many valuable hints concerning section work.
-
-“Though,” he added, echoing Jack, “it’s not on section you’ll be
-workin’ all your life! You’ve got too good a head fer that.”
-
-“I don’t know,” said Allan, modestly. “This takes a pretty good
-head, too, doesn’t it?”
-
-“It takes a good head in a way; but it’s soon learnt, an’ after
-thet, all a man has t’ do is t’ keep sober. But this is a, b, c,
-compared t’ th’ work of runnin’ th’ road. Ever been up in th’
-despatcher’s office?”
-
-“No,” said Allan. “I never have.”
-
-“Well, y’ want t’ git Jack t’ take y’ up there some day; then y’ll
-see where head-work comes in. I know thet all the trainmen swear at
-th’ despatchers; but jest th’ same, it takes a mighty good man t’
-hold down th’ job.”
-
-“I’ll ask Jack to take me,” said Allan; and he resolved to get all
-the insight possible into the workings of this great engine of
-industry, of which he had become a part.
-
-Quitting-time came at last, and they loaded their tools wearily upon
-the car and started on the five-mile run home. This time there was
-no disturbing incident. The regular click, click of the wheels over
-the rails told of a track in perfect condition. At last they rattled
-over the switches in the yards and pushed the car into its place in
-the section-house.
-
-“You run along,” said Jack to Allan. “I’ve got t’ make out a report
-to-night. It’ll take me maybe five minutes. Tell Mary I’ll be home
-by then.”
-
-“All right!” and Allan picked up his bundle of clothes and started
-across the yards. He could see the little house that he called home
-perched high on its bank of clay. Apparently they were watching for
-him, for he saw a tiny figure running down the path, and knew that
-Mamie was coming to meet him. She did not stop at the gate, but ran
-across the narrow street and into the yards toward him. He quickened
-his steps at the thought that some harm might befall her among this
-maze of tracks. He could see her mother standing on the porch,
-looking down at them, shading her eyes with her hand.
-
-And then, in an instant, a yard-engine whirled out from behind the
-roundhouse. Mamie looked around as she heard it coming, and stopped
-short in the middle of the track, confused and terrified in presence
-of this unexpected danger.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER V.
-
- ALLAN PROVES HIS METAL
-
-
-As Allan dashed forward toward the child, he saw the engineer, his
-face livid, reverse his engine and jerk open the sand-box; the sand
-spurted forth under the drivers, whirling madly backwards in the
-midst of a shower of sparks, but sliding relentlessly down upon the
-terror-stricken child. It was over in an instant—afterward, the boy
-could never tell how it happened—he knew only that he stooped and
-caught the child from under the very wheels of the engine, just as
-something struck him a terrific blow on the leg and hurled him to
-one side.
-
-He was dimly conscious of holding the little one close in his arms
-that she might not be injured, then he struck the ground with a
-crash that left him dazed and shaken. When he struggled to his feet,
-the engineer had jumped down from his cab and Welsh was speeding
-toward them across the tracks.
-
-“Hurt?” asked the engineer.
-
-“I guess not—not much;” and Allan stooped to rub his leg. “Something
-hit me here.”
-
-“Yes—the footboard. Knocked you off the track. I had her pretty near
-stopped, or they’d be another story.”
-
-Allan turned to Welsh, who came panting up, and placed the child in
-his arms.
-
-“I guess she’s not hurt,” he said, with a wan little smile.
-
-But Jack’s emotion had quite mastered him for the moment.
-
-“Mamie!” he cried, gathering her to him. “My little girl!” And the
-great tears shattered down over his cheeks upon the child’s dress.
-
-The others stood looking on, understanding, sympathetic. The fireman
-even turned away to rub his sleeve furtively across his eyes, for he
-was a very young man and quite new to railroading.
-
-The moment passed, and Welsh gripped back his self-control, as he
-turned to Allan and held out his great hand.
-
-“You’ve got nerve,” he said. “We won’t fergit it—Mary an’ me. Come
-on home—it’s your home now, as well as ours.”
-
-Half-way across the tracks they met Mary, who, after one shrill
-scream of anguish at sight of her darling’s peril, had started
-wildly down the path to the gate, though she knew she must arrive
-too late. She had seen the rescue, and now, with streaming eyes, she
-threw her arms around Allan and kissed him.
-
-“My brave boy!” she cried. “He’s our boy, now, ain’t he, Jack, as
-long as he wants t’ stay?”
-
-“That’s jest what I was tellin’ him, Mary dear,” said Jack.
-
-“But he’s limpin’,” she cried. “What’s th’ matter? Y’re not hurted,
-Allan?”
-
-“Not very badly,” answered the boy. “No bones broken—just a knock on
-the leg that took the skin off.”
-
-“Come on home this instant,” commanded Mary, “an’ we’ll see.”
-
-“Ain’t y’ goin’ t’ kiss Mamie?” questioned Jack.
-
-“She don’t deserve t’ be kissed!” protested her mother. “She’s been
-a bad girl—how often have I told her never t’ lave th’ yard?”
-
-Mamie was weeping bitter tears of repentance, and her mother
-suddenly softened and caught her to her breast.
-
-“I—I won’t be bad no more!” sobbed Mamie.
-
-“I should hope not! An’ what d’ y’ say t’ Allan? If it hadn’t ’a’
-been fer him, you’d ’a’ been ground up under th’ wheels.”
-
-“I—I lubs him!” cried Mamie, with a very tender look at our hero.
-
-She held up her lips, and Allan bent and kissed them.
-
-“Well, m’ boy,” laughed Jack, as the triumphal procession moved on
-again toward the house, “you seem t’ have taken this family by
-storm, fer sure!”
-
-“Come along!” cried Mary. “Mebbe th’ poor lad’s hurted worse’n he
-thinks.”
-
-She hurried him along before her up the path, sat him down in a
-chair, and rolled up his trousers leg.
-
-“It’s nothing,” protested Allan. “It’s nothing—it’s not worth
-worrying about.”
-
-“_Ain’t_ it!” retorted Mary, with compressed lips, removing shoe and
-sock and deftly cutting away the blood-stained underwear. “_Ain’t_
-it? You poor boy, look at that!”
-
-And, indeed, it was rather an ugly-looking wound that lay revealed.
-The flesh had been crushed and torn by the heavy blow, and was
-bleeding and turning black.
-
-“It’s a mercy it didn’t break your leg!” she added. “Jack, you
-loon!” she went on, with a fierceness assumed to keep herself from
-bursting into tears, “don’t stand starin’ there, but bring me a
-basin o’ hot water, an’ be quick about it!”
-
-Jack _was_ quick about it, and in a few moments the wound was washed
-and nicely dressed with a cooling lotion which Mary produced from a
-cupboard.
-
-“I keep it fer Jack,” Mary explained, as she spread it tenderly over
-the wound. “He’s allers gittin’ pieces knocked off o’ him. Now how
-does it feel, Allan darlint?” “It feels fine,” Allan declared. “It
-doesn’t hurt a bit. It’ll be all right by morning.”
-
-“By mornin’!” echoed Mary, indignantly. “I reckon y’ think yer goin’
-out on th’ section t’-morrer!”
-
-“Why, of course. I’ve got to go. We’re getting it ready for the
-Irish Brigade. We’ve got to win that prize!”
-
-“Prize!” cried Mary. “Much I care fer th’ prize! But there! I won’t
-quarrel with y’ now. Kin y’ walk?”
-
-“Of course I can walk,” and Allan rose to his feet.
-
-“Well, then, you men git ready fer supper. I declare it’s got
-cold—I’ll have t’ warm it up ag’in! An’ I reckon I’ll put on a
-little somethin’ extry jest t’ celebrate!”
-
-She put on several things extra, and there was a regular
-thanksgiving feast in the little Welsh home that evening, with Allan
-in the place of honour, and Mamie looking at him adoringly from
-across the table. Probably not a single one of the employés of the
-road would have hesitated to do what he had done,—indeed, to risk
-his life for another’s is the ordinary duty of a railroad man,—but
-that did not lessen the merit of the deed in the eyes of Mamie’s
-parents. And for the first time in many days, Allan was quite happy,
-too. He felt that he was making himself a place in the world—and,
-sweeter than all, a place in the hearts of the people with whom his
-life was cast.
-
-But the injury was a more serious one than he had been willing to
-admit. When he tried to get out of bed in the morning, he found his
-leg so stiff and sore that he could scarcely move it. He set his
-teeth and managed to dress himself and hobble down-stairs, but his
-white face showed the agony he was suffering.
-
-“Oh, Allan!” cried Mary, flying to him and helping him to a chair.
-“What did y’ want t’ come down fer? Why didn’t y’ call me?”
-
-“I don’t want to be such a nuisance as all that!” the boy protested.
-“But I’m afraid I can’t go to work to-day.”
-
-Mary sniffed scornfully.
-
-“No—nor to-morrer!” she said. “You’re goin’ t’ stay right in that
-chair!”
-
-She flew around, making him more comfortable, and Allan was coddled
-that day as he had not been for a long time. Whether it was the
-nursing or the magic qualities of Mary’s lotion, his leg was very
-much better by night, and the next morning was scarcely sore at all.
-The quickness of the healing—for it was quite well again in three or
-four days—was due in no small part to Allan’s healthy young blood,
-but he persisted in giving all the credit to Mary.
-
-After that, Allan noticed a shade of difference in the treatment
-accorded him by the other men. Heretofore he had been a stranger—an
-outsider. Now he was so no longer. He had proved his right to
-consideration and respect. He was “th’ boy that saved Jack Welsh’s
-kid.” Report of the deed penetrated even to the offices where dwelt
-the men who ruled the destinies of the division, and the
-superintendent made a mental note of the name for future reference.
-The train-master, too, got out from his desk a many-paged,
-much-thumbed book, indexed from first to last, and, under the letter
-“W,” wrote a few lines. The records of nearly a thousand men, for
-good and bad, were in that book, and many a one, hauled up “on the
-carpet” to be disciplined, had been astonished and dismayed by the
-train-master’s familiarity with his career.
-
-Of all the men in the gang, after the foreman, Allan found Reddy
-Magraw the most lovable, and the merry, big-hearted Irishman took a
-great liking to the boy. He lived in a little house not far from the
-Welshes, and he took Allan home with him one evening to introduce
-him to Mrs. Magraw and the “childer.” The former was a somewhat
-faded little woman, worn down by hard work and ceaseless
-self-denial, but happy despite it all, and the children were as
-healthy and merry a set of young scalawags as ever rolled about upon
-a sanded floor. There were no carpets and only the most necessary
-furniture,—a stove, two beds, a table, and some chairs, for there
-was little money left after feeding and clothing that ever hungry
-swarm,—but everywhere there was a scrupulous, almost painful,
-cleanliness. And one thing the boy learned from this visit and
-succeeding ones—that what he had considered poverty was not poverty
-at all, and that brave and cheerful hearts can light up any home.
-
-His trunk arrived from the storage house at Cincinnati in due time,
-affording him a welcome change of clothing, while Mrs. Welsh set
-herself to work at once sewing on missing buttons, darning socks,
-patching trousers—doing the hundred and one things which always need
-to be done to the clothing of a motherless boy. Indeed, it might be
-fairly said that he was motherless no longer, so closely had she
-taken him to her heart.
-
-Sunday came at last, with its welcome relief from toil. They lay
-late in bed that morning, making up lost rest, revelling in the
-unaccustomed luxury of leisure, and in the afternoon Jack took the
-boy for a tour through the shops, swarming with busy life on
-week-days, but now deserted, save for an occasional watchman. And
-here Allan got, for the first time, a glimpse of one great
-department of a railroad’s management which most people know nothing
-of. In the first great room, the “long shop,” half a dozen disabled
-engines were hoisted on trucks and were being rebuilt. Back of this
-was the foundry, where all the needed castings were made, from the
-tiniest bolt to the massive frame upon which the engine-boiler
-rests. Then there was the blacksmith shop, with its score of forges
-and great steam-hammer, that could deliver a blow of many tons; and
-next to this the lathe-room, where the castings from the foundry
-were shaved and planed and polished to exactly the required size and
-shape; and still farther on was the carpenter shop, with its maze of
-woodworking machinery, most wonderful of all, in its nearly human
-intelligence.
-
-Beyond the shop was the great coal chute, where the tender of an
-engine could be heaped high with coal in an instant by simply
-pulling a lever; then the big water-tanks, high in air, filled with
-water pumped from the river half a mile away; and last of all, the
-sand-house, where the sand-boxes of the engines were carefully
-replenished before each trip. How many lives had been saved by that
-simple device, which enabled the wheels to grip the track and stop
-the train! How many might be sacrificed if, at a critical moment,
-the sand-box of the engine happened to be empty! It was a startling
-reflection—that even upon this little cog in the great machine—this
-thoughtless boy, who poured the sand into the boxes—so much
-depended.
-
-Bright and early Monday morning they were out again on Twenty-one.
-Wednesday was inspection, and they knew that up and down those two
-hundred miles of track hand-cars were flying back and forth, and
-every inch of the roadway was being examined by eyes severely
-critical. They found many things to do, things which Allan would
-never have thought of, but which appealed at once to the anxious
-eyes of the foreman.
-
-About the middle of the afternoon, Welsh saw a figure emerge from a
-grove of trees beside the road and come slouching toward him. As it
-drew nearer, he recognized Dan Nolan.
-
-“Mister Welsh,” began Nolan, quite humbly, “can’t y’ give me a place
-on th’ gang ag’in?”
-
-“No,” said Jack, curtly, “I can’t. Th’ gang’s full.”
-
-“That there kid’s no account,” protested Nolan, with a venomous
-glance at Allan. “I’ll take his place.”
-
-“No, you won’t, Dan Nolan!” retorted Jack. “He’s a better man than
-you are, any day.”
-
-“He is, is he?” sneered Nolan. “We’ll see about that!”
-
-“An’ if you so much as harm a hair o’ him,” continued Jack, with
-clenched fists, “I’ll have it out o’ your hide, two fer one—jest
-keep that in mind.”
-
-Nolan laughed mockingly, but he also took the precaution to retreat
-to a safe distance from Jack’s threatening fists.
-
-“Y’ won’t give me a job, then?” he asked again.
-
-“Not if you was th’ last man on earth!”
-
-“All right!” cried Nolan, getting red in the face with anger, which
-he no longer made any effort to suppress. “All right! I’ll fix you
-an’ th’ kid, too! You think y’re smart; think y’ll win th’ section
-prize! Ho, ho! I guess not! Not this trip! Purty section-foreman you
-are! I’ll show you!”
-
-Jack didn’t answer, but he stopped and picked up a stone; and Nolan
-dived hastily back into the grove again.
-
-“He’s a big coward,” said Jack, throwing down the stone disgustedly,
-and turning back to his work. “Don’t let him scare y’, Allan.”
-
-“He didn’t scare me,” answered Allan, quietly, and determined to
-give a good account of himself should Nolan ever attempt to molest
-him.
-
-But Jack was not as easy in his mind as he pretended; he knew Nolan,
-and believed him quite capable of any treacherous meanness. So he
-kept Allan near him; and if Nolan was really lurking in the bushes
-anywhere along the road, he had no opportunity for mischief.
-
-The next morning Jack took his men out directly to the western end
-of the section, and came back very slowly, stopping here and there
-to put a finishing touch to the work. Even Reddy was enthusiastic
-over the condition of the section.
-
-“It’s foin as silk!” he said, looking back over the road they had
-just traversed. “Ef we don’t git th’ prize this toime, it’s because
-some other feller’s a lot smarter ’n we are!”
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VI.
-
- REDDY TO THE RESCUE
-
-
-Engineer Lister had often been angry in his life, for, truth to
-tell, running an engine is not conducive to good nerves or even
-temper. It is a trying job, demanding constant alertness, and quick,
-unerring judgment. But when to the usual responsibilities of the
-place are added a cranky engine and a green fireman, even a saint
-would lose his patience. Ellis Root was the green fireman, and
-seemed to possess such a veritable genius for smothering his fire
-that more than once the engineer had been compelled to clamber down
-from his box and wield the rake and shovel himself. To add to this
-difficulty of keeping up steam, the 226, a great ten-wheeled
-aristocrat of a freight-engine, had suddenly developed a leaky
-throttle, together with some minor ailments, which rendered the task
-of handling her one of increasing difficulty.
-
-The last straw was the refusal of the despatcher at headquarters to
-allow Lister to reduce his tonnage. His train happened to be an
-unusually heavy one which, ordinarily, the 226 could have handled
-with ease. The despatcher knew this; he knew also that Lister had an
-unfortunate habit of complaining when there was nothing to complain
-about; so when this last complaint came in, he wired back a terse
-reply, telling Lister to “shut up, and bring in your train.”
-
-So Lister was raving angry by the time his engine limped feebly into
-the yards at Wadsworth. He jumped off almost before she stopped, and
-leaped up the stairs to the division offices two steps at a time, in
-order to unburden himself without delay of his opinion of the
-despatcher who had so heartlessly refused to help him out of his
-difficulties.
-
-He burst into the office like a whirlwind, red in the face, gasping
-for breath.
-
-“What’s the matter, Lister?” asked the train-master, looking up from
-his desk.
-
-“Matter!” yelled Lister. “Where’s that thick-headed despatcher? He
-ain’t fit to hold a job on this road!”
-
-“What did he do?” asked the train-master, grinning at the heads that
-had been stuck in from the adjoining rooms to find out what the
-noise was about. “Tell me what he did, and maybe I’ll fire him.”
-
-“I’ll tell you what he did! He made me handle my full train when I
-wired in here an’ told him my engine was leakin’ like a sieve. What
-do you think of a roundhouse foreman that’ll send an engine out in
-that shape?”
-
-“So you want me to fire the foreman, too?” queried the train-master,
-grinning more broadly. “Where is the engine?”
-
-“She’s down there in the yards,” said Lister.
-
-“What! Down in the yards! Do you mean to say you brought her in?”
-
-“Of course I brought her in,” said Lister. “They ain’t another
-engineer on th’ road could ’a’ done it, but I did it, an’ I want to
-tell you, Mr. Schofield—”
-
-A succession of sharp blasts from the whistle of the yard-engine
-interrupted him.
-
-“What’s that?” cried the train-master, and threw up the window, for
-the blasts meant that an accident of some sort had happened. The
-other men in the office rushed to the windows, too,—they saw the
-yardmen running madly about and gesticulating wildly,—and away up
-the yards they saw the 226 rattling over the switches at full speed,
-running wild!
-
-With a single bound the train-master was at the door of the
-despatcher’s office.
-
-“Where’s Number Four?” he demanded. Number Four was the fastest
-through passenger-train on the road—the east-bound flier, to which
-all other trains gave precedence.
-
-The despatcher in charge of the west end of the road looked up from
-his desk.
-
-“Number Four passed Anderson three minutes ago, sir,” he said.
-“She’s on time—she’s due here in eight minutes.”
-
-The train-master’s face grew suddenly livid; a cold sweat burst out
-across his forehead.
-
-“Good Lord!” he murmured, half to himself. “A wreck—no power on
-earth can help it!”
-
-A vision danced before his eyes—a vision of shattered cars, of
-mangled men and women. He knew where the collision must occur; he
-knew that the flier would be coming down that heavy grade at full
-speed—and toward the flier thundered that wild engine—with no
-guiding hand upon the throttle—with nothing to hold her back from
-her mad errand of destruction!
-
- * * * * *
-
-It had happened in this wise. A moment after Engineer Lister jumped
-to the ground, and while his fireman, Ellis Root, was still looking
-after him with a grin of relief, for the trip had been a hot one for
-him in more ways than one, a yardman came along and uncoupled the
-engine from the train. The fireman began to kick off his overalls,
-when he became suddenly conscious that the engine was moving. The
-leaky throttle did not shut off the steam completely from the
-cylinders, and, released from the weight of the heavy train which
-had held her back, the engine started slowly forward.
-
-The fireman, whose knowledge of the engine was as yet of the most
-primitive description, sprang to the other side of the cab and
-pushed the lever forward a notch or two. The engine’s speed
-increased.
-
-“I can’t stop her,” he said, feverishly, half to himself. “I can’t
-stop her,” and he pulled the lever back.
-
-The engine sprang back in answer and bumped heavily into the train
-behind her.
-
-“Hi, there, you ijit!” yelled the yardman, who was under the first
-car inspecting the air-hose. “What you mean? D’ y’ want t’ kill a
-feller? Let that ingine alone!”
-
-Ellis, with the perspiration trickling down his face, threw the
-lever forward again, and then, as the engine bounded forward in
-answer, he lost his head entirely and leaped off, with a wild yell
-of dismay.
-
-In a moment the 226 rattled over the switches westward out of the
-yards, and shot out upon the main track, gathering speed with every
-revolution!
-
-Welsh’s gang had worked its way eastward along the section as far as
-the mill switch, when the foreman took out his watch and glanced at
-it.
-
-“Git that hand-car off th’ track, boys,” he said. “Number Four’ll be
-along in a minute.”
-
-Two of the men derailed the hand-car, while Welsh glanced up and
-down the road to be sure that the track was clear, and took a look
-at the mill switch, a little distance away, where they had been
-working, to make certain that it had been properly closed. He
-remembered that a work-train had taken a cut of cars out of the
-switch a short time before, but he could tell by the way the lever
-was thrown that the switch was closed.
-
-Far in the distance he could hear the train whistling for the curve
-just beyond the cut. Then, suddenly from the other direction, he
-caught a sound that brought him sharply round, and saw with horror a
-great freight-engine rumbling rapidly toward him.
-
-“My God, she’s runnin’ wild!” he cried; and, with a yell of warning
-to his men, turned and ran toward the switch. If he could only get
-there in time to ditch her!
-
-But the engine whirled past him, and he stopped, seeing already the
-horror, the destruction, which must follow in a moment. Then, far
-ahead, he saw Reddy speeding toward the switch, saw him reach it,
-bend above the short lever that controlled it, and throw it over.
-Away up the track the “flier” flashed into view, running a mile a
-minute. He could guess what was happening in her cab, as her
-engineer saw the danger. The heavy engine rumbled on, all too slowly
-now, in upon the switch to knock the bumper at the farther end to
-splinters and fight her life out in the mud beyond. He saw Reddy
-throw the lever back again, only in that instant to be hurled away
-to one side as the great train swept by in safety. And the engineer,
-who had reversed his lever and applied the brakes, who had waited
-the outcome with white face and tight-set lips,—but who, never for
-an instant, had thought of saving himself by jumping,—released the
-brakes and threw his lever again on the forward motion. Four minutes
-later the train swept in to Wadsworth, only forty seconds behind the
-schedule!
-
-The passengers never knew how near they had been to death—by what a
-miracle they had escaped destruction! After all, a miss is as good
-as a mile!
-
-Reddy’s comrades found him lying unconscious twenty feet from the
-track. His right arm—the arm that had thrown the lever—hung limp by
-his side, and there was a great gash in his head from which the
-blood was pouring. In a moment Jack had torn off the sleeve of his
-shirt and made an improvised bandage of it, which checked to some
-extent the flow of blood.
-
-“We must git him home,” said Welsh, “where we kin git a doctor. He’s
-hurted bad. Git th’ car on th’ track, boys.”
-
-In an instant it was done, and Reddy was gently lifted on.
-
-“Now you set down there an’ hold his head, Allan,” said Jack. “Keep
-it as stiddy as y’ kin.”
-
-Allan sat down obediently and placed the mangled head tenderly in
-his lap. As he looked at the pale face and closed eyes, it was all
-he could do to keep himself from breaking down. Poor Reddy—good old
-Reddy—a hero, Allan told himself, with quickening heart, a hero who
-had not hesitated to risk his life for others.
-
-But they were off!
-
-And how the men worked, pumping up and down until the car fairly
-flew along the track. They knew the way was clear, since the flier
-had just passed, and up and down they pumped, up and down, knowing
-that a few minutes might mean life or death to their comrade. Down
-the grade they flashed, along the embankment by the river, through
-the town and into the yards, where a dozen willing hands lifted the
-inanimate form from the car and bore it tenderly into the
-baggage-room.
-
-“How did it happen, Welsh?” asked the train-master, after a surgeon
-had been summoned and an ambulance had taken the still unconscious
-Reddy to his home.
-
-And Jack told him, while the train-master listened, with only a
-little nod now and then to show that he understood. At the end he
-drew a deep breath.
-
-“I thought the flier was gone for sure,” he said. “It would have
-been the worst wreck in the history of the road. Thank God it was
-spared us!”
-
-“Yes, thank God,” said Jack, a little hoarsely; “but don’t fergit t’
-thank Reddy Magraw, too!”
-
-“We won’t!” said the train-master, with another little nod. “We’ll
-never forget Reddy.”
-
-“More especially,” added Jack, a little bitterly, “since it’s not
-th’ first time he’s saved th’ road a bad wreck. He was fergot th’
-first time!”
-
-“Yes, I know,” agreed the train-master. “But he wouldn’t have been
-if I’d had anything to do with it.”
-
-“I know it, sir,” said Jack, heartily. “I know it, Mr. Schofield.
-You’ve always treated us square. But I couldn’t help rememberin’!”
-
-Half an hour later Allan and Jack intercepted the doctor as he came
-out of the little house where Mrs. Magraw sat with her apron over
-her head, rocking back and forth in agony.
-
-“He’ll be all right, won’t he, doctor?” asked Jack, anxiously. “He
-ain’t a-goin’t’ die?”
-
-“No,” answered the doctor, “he’ll not die. But,” and he hesitated,
-“he got a mighty bad crack, and it will be a long time before he’s
-able to be out again.”
-
-“He’s come to all right, ain’t he, doctor?” questioned Jack, seeing
-the doctor’s hesitation.
-
-“Yes, he’s conscious again, but he’s not quite himself yet. But I
-think he’ll come around all right,” and the doctor walked briskly
-away, while Jack and Allan, assured that they could do nothing more
-for Reddy or his family, whom the neighbours had parcelled out among
-themselves, went slowly home.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VII.
-
- THE IRISH BRIGADE
-
-
-It was not until they were seated around the table that evening that
-Allan remembered that the next day was to occur the great inspection
-by the Irish Brigade, and he straightened up suddenly as he thought
-of it.
-
-“Didn’t that engine tear things up some when she ran off the track?”
-he asked of Jack.
-
-“Yes,” answered the foreman, “but it was only at th’ end of th’
-sidin’, an’ that won’t matter. Besides, th’ wreckin’ crew’s up there
-now gittin’ th’ engine back on th’ track an’ fixin’ things up ag’in.
-If th’ main line on Twenty-one ain’t in good shape, it’s because I
-don’t know what good shape is,” he added, with decision. “We
-couldn’t do anything more to it if we worked fer a week. I’ve asked
-th’ boys t’ take a run over it t’-morrer mornin’ jest as a matter o’
-precaution. Do y’ think y’ kin git up at midnight?” he added,
-suddenly, giving his wife a knowing wink.
-
-“At midnight?” repeated Allan. “Why, yes, of course, if you want me
-to.”
-
-“Well, y’ll have t’ git up at midnight if y’ want t’ ketch Number
-Five fer Cincinnati.”
-
-Allan’s face flushed with quick pleasure.
-
-“Am I to go, too?” he asked, eagerly. “Can you take me, too?”
-
-Jack laughed in sympathy with his bright eyes.
-
-“Yes,” he said; “that’s what I kin. I got an extry pass from th’
-superintendent. I told him I had a boy who wanted t’ see th’ road
-because he was goin’ t’ be superintendent hisself, some day. He said
-he guessed he knew th’ boy’s name without bein’ told, an’ wrote out
-th’ pass.”
-
-Allan flushed high with pleasure.
-
-“That was nice of him,” he said.
-
-“Yes,” said Jack; “an’ yet I think he was figgerin’ on helpin’ th’
-road, too. Y’ see, whenever a bright feller like you comes along an’
-shows that he’s steady an’ can be depended on, he never gits t’ work
-on section very long. They need boys like that up in th’ offices.
-That’s where th’ brains o’ th’ road are. In fact, th’ office itself
-is th’ brain o’ th’ whole system, with wires runnin’ out to every
-part of it an’ bringin’ back word what’s goin’ on, jest like a
-doctor told me once th’ nerves do in our bodies.”
-
-“Yes,” nodded Allan; “but what has that got to do with my going over
-the road to-morrow?”
-
-“Jest this,” said Jack; “before a feller’s fit to hold a job in th’
-offices,—a job as operator or despatcher, that is,—and work one o’
-them little wires, he’s got t’ know th’ road better’n he knows th’
-path in his own back yard. He’s got t’ know every foot of it—where
-th’ grades are an’ how heavy they are; where th’ curves are, an’
-whether they’re long or short; where every sidin’ is, an’ jest how
-many cars it’ll hold; where th’ track runs through a cut, an’ where
-it comes out on a fill; where every bridge and culvert is—in fact,
-he’s got t’ know th’ road so well that when he’s ridin’ over it he
-kin wake up in th’ night an’ tell by th’ way th’ wheels click an’
-th’ cars rock jest exactly where he is!”
-
-At the moment Allan thought that Jack was exaggerating; but he was
-to learn that there was in all this not the slightest trace of
-exaggeration. And he was to learn, too, that upon the accuracy of
-this minute knowledge the safety of passenger and freight train
-often depended.
-
-They sat on the porch again that evening, while Mary rocked Mamie to
-sleep and Jack smoked his pipe. Always below them in the yards the
-little yard-engines puffed up and down, placing the cars in position
-in the trains—cars laden with coal and grain for the east; cars
-laden with finished merchandise for the west; the farmer and miner
-exchanging his product for that of the manufacturer.
-
-Only there was no Reddy to come and whistle at the gate, and after
-awhile they walked over to his house to find out how he was.
-
-Mrs. Magraw let them in. Her stout Irish optimism had come back
-again, for Reddy was better.
-
-“Though he’s still a little quare,” she added. “He lays there with
-his oies open, but he don’t seem t’ notice much. Th’ docther says
-it’ll be a day or two afore he’s hisself ag’in.”
-
-“Well, I’m glad it’s no worse,” said Jack. “We can’t afford to lose
-Reddy.”
-
-“We won’t lose him this trip, thank God!” said Mrs. Magraw. “Mr.
-Schofield was over jist now t’ see if they was anything he could do.
-He says th’ road’ll make it all roight with Reddy.”
-
-“That’s good!” said Jack, heartily; “but we won’t keep you any
-longer, Mrs. Magraw,” and he and Allan said good night.
-
-“We must be gittin’ t’ bed ourselves,” Jack added, as they mounted
-the path to his home. “Remember, we have t’ git up at midnight. It’s
-good an’ sleepy you’ll be, my boy!”
-
-“No, I won’t!” laughed Allan. “But I’ll turn in now, anyway.”
-
-It seemed to him that he had been asleep only a few minutes when he
-heard Jack’s voice calling. But he was out of bed as soon as he got
-his eyes open, and got into his clothes as quickly as he could in
-the darkness. Mary had a hot lunch waiting by the time he got
-down-stairs. He and Jack ate a little,—one doesn’t have much
-appetite at midnight,—and together they made their way across the
-yards to the station, where they caught the fast mail for the city.
-
-The smoking-car of the train was crowded with section-men on their
-way to the rendezvous, and a jolly, good-natured lot they were.
-There was no thought of sleep, for this was a holiday for
-them,—besides, sleep was out of the question in that tumult,—and one
-story of the rail followed another. As Allan listened, he wondered
-at these tales of heroism and daring told so lightly—of engineers
-sticking to their posts though certain death stared them in the
-face; of crossing-flagmen saving the lives of careless men and
-women, at the cost, often, of their own; of break-in-twos, washouts,
-head-end collisions, of confusion of orders and mistakes of
-despatchers—all the lore that gathers about the life of the rail.
-And as he listened, the longing came to him to prove himself worthy
-of this brotherhood.
-
-One story, in particular, stuck in Allan’s memory.
-
-“Then there was Tom Rawlinson,” began one of the men.
-
-“Let Pat tell that story,” interrupted another. “Come out here, Pat.
-We want t’ hear about Tom Rawlinson an’ his last trip on th’
-Two-twenty-four.”
-
-So Pat came out, shyly, a tall, raw-boned man. As he got within the
-circle of light, Allan saw that his face was frightfully scarred.
-
-“’Twas in th’ summer o’ ninety-two,” he began. “Rawlinson had had
-th’ Two-twenty-four about a month, an’ was as proud of her as a man
-is of his first baby. That day he was takin’ a big excursion train
-in to Parkersburg. He was lettin’ me ride in th’ cab, which he
-hadn’t any bus’ness t’ do, but Tom Rawlinson was th’ biggest-hearted
-man that ever pulled a lever on this road.”
-
-He paused a moment, and his listeners gravely nodded their approval
-of the sentiment.
-
-“Well, he was pullin’ up th’ hill at Torch, an’ th’ engine had on
-every pound she could carry. There was a big wind whistlin’ down th’
-cut, an’ we could hear th’ fire a-roarin’ when th’ fireman pulled
-open th’ door t’ throw in some more coal. Th’ minute th’ door was
-open, the wind jest seemed t’ sweep int’ thet fire-box, an’ the
-first thing I knew, a big sheet o’ flame was shootin’ right out in
-my face. I went back over that tender like a rabbit, without
-stoppin’ t’ argy th’ why an’ th’ wherefore, an’ when I got back t’
-th’ front platform o’ th’ baggage-car, I found that Tom an’ his
-fireman had come, too.
-
-“We stood there a minute, hardly darin’ t’ breathe, a-watchin’ thet
-fire. It licked out at th’ cab, an’ quicker’n I kin tell it, th’
-wood was blazin’ away in great shape. Then, all of a sudden, I
-happened t’ think o’ somethin’ that sent a cold chill down my back,
-an’ made me sick an’ weak. Here was we poundin’ along at forty miles
-an hour, with orders t’ take th’ sidin’ fer Number Three at th’
-Junction, five mile ahead. It looked to me as though they’d be about
-a thousand people killed inside of a mighty few minutes.”
-
-He stopped to take a fresh chew of tobacco, and Allan saw that his
-hands were trembling at the memory of that fearful moment.
-
-“Well,” he continued, “as I was a-sayin’, I could feel my hair
-a-raisin’ right up on my head. I looked around at Tom, an’ I could
-tell by his set face that he was thinkin’ of th’ same thing I was.
-
-“‘Boys,’ he says, low-like, ‘I’m goin’ forrerd. I’ve got to shet her
-off. I hadn’t no business t’ run away.’
-
-“An’ without waitin’ fer either o’ us t’ answer, forrerd he went,
-climbin’ over th’ coal an’ down into th’ burnin’ cab. It was like
-goin’ into a furnace, but he never faltered—right on he went—right
-on into th’ fire—an’ in a minute I felt th’ jerk as he reversed her
-an’ threw on th’ brakes. It seemed t’ me as though we’d never come
-to a stop, but we did, an’ then th’ brakeman an’ me went forrerd
-over th’ coal t’ git Tom out. But it warn’t no use. He was layin’
-dead on his seat, still holdin’ to th’ throttle.
-
-“We lifted him down, an’ by that time th’ conductor an’ a lot o’ th’
-passengers come a-runnin’ up. An’ then folks begun tellin’ me my
-face was burned,” and Pat indicated his scars with a rapid gesture.
-“Till then, I’d never even felt it. When y’re in it, y’ know, y’
-only feel it fer others, not fer yourself.”
-
-That ended the story-telling. There was something in that tale of
-sacrifice which made other tales seem idle and empty.
-
-The dawn was just tingeing the sky in the east when the train rushed
-into the great, echoing train-shed at Cincinnati. The men got out
-and hurried forward to the dining-room, where a lunch of coffee and
-sandwiches awaited them. Here, too, were the train-master and
-division superintendent, trim-built, well-groomed men, with alert
-eyes, who knew the value of kind words and appreciative criticism
-when it came to managing men. Lunch was hastily eaten, and then the
-whole crowd proceeded to the special inspection train, where it
-stood on the side-track ready to start on its two hundred mile trip
-eastward. And a peculiar looking train it was—consisting, besides
-the engine, of only one car, a tall, ungainly, boarded structure,
-open at one end, and, facing the open end, tiers of seats stretching
-upward to the roof.
-
-Into this the men poured and took their seats, so that every one
-could see the long stretch of track as it slid backward under them.
-Almost at once the signal came to start, and the gaily decorated
-engine—draped from end to end in green, that all might know it was
-the “Irish Brigade” out on its inspection tour—pulled out through
-the “ditch,” as the deep cut within the city limits is called, past
-the vast stock-yards and out upon the level track beyond. Instantly
-silence settled upon the car, broken only by the puffing of the
-engine and the clanking of the wheels over the rails. Seventy pairs
-of eyes were bent upon the track, the road-bed, the right of way,
-noting every detail. Seventy pairs of ears listened to the tale the
-wheels were telling of the track’s condition. It was a serious and
-solemn moment.
-
-Allan, too, looked out upon all this, and his heart fell within him.
-Surely, no track could be more perfect, no road-bed better kept. It
-must be this section which would win the prize. Yet, when that
-section had been left behind and the next one entered on, he could
-detect no difference. How could anybody rate one section higher than
-another, when all alike were perfect? And what possible chance was
-there for Twenty-one?
-
-They were side-tracked at the end of an hour to allow a through
-passenger to pass, and the babel of voices arose again. But it was
-silenced at once the moment they ran out to continue on the journey.
-Hours passed, and at last, with a leaping heart, Allan recognized
-the west end of Section Twenty-one. He glanced at Jack Welsh, and
-saw how his eyes were shining, but he dared not look in his
-direction a second time. He stared out at the track and wondered if
-it was really here that he had laboured for the past week.
-
-Yes,—he recognized the landmarks,—the high trestle over the deep
-ravine, the cut, the long grade, the embankment along the river. It
-seemed almost that he knew every foot of the track; but he did not
-know it so well as he thought, for his eyes did not detect what
-Welsh’s more critical ones saw on the instant,—traces of gravel dug
-out, of whitewash rubbed away, of a guard-fence broken down. The
-gravel had been replaced, the whitewash touched up anew, the fence
-had been repaired, but Welsh knew that the section was not as he had
-left it the night before, and in a flash he understood.
-
-“It was some of Dan Nolan’s work,” he said to himself, and, the
-moment the train stopped in the yards at Wadsworth, he called to
-Allan and hurried away to the section-shanty to hear the story.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER VIII.
-
- GOOD NEWS AND BAD
-
-
-His men were waiting for him, as he knew they would be, and the
-story was soon told. They had started out in the morning, according
-to his instructions, for a last run over the section, and soon
-discovered the work of the enemy. Ties which had been piled neatly
-at the side of the right of way had been thrown down, whitewashed
-boulders around the mile-posts had been torn up, in many places
-holes had been dug in the road-bed,—in short, the section was in a
-condition which not only would have lost them the prize, but would
-have brought unbearable disgrace upon their foreman.
-
-They set to work like Trojans righting the damage, for they knew
-they had only a few hours, beginning at the western end and working
-slowly back toward the city. More than once it seemed that they
-could not get through in time; but at last the work was done, just
-as the whistle of the inspection train sounded in the distance.
-
-“An’ mighty well done,” said Jack, approvingly, when the story was
-ended. “You’ve done noble, m’ boys, an’ I won’t fergit it! Th’
-section’s in as good shape as it was last night.”
-
-“But what dirty criminal tore it up?” asked one of the men.
-
-“I know who it was,” and Jack reddened with anger. “It was that
-loafer of a Dan Nolan. He threatened he’d git even with me fer
-firin’ him, but I didn’t pay no attention. I didn’t think he’d got
-that low! Wait till I ketch him!”
-
-And his men echoed the threat in a tone that boded ill for Daniel.
-
-“Come on, Allan, we’ve got t’ be gittin’ back,” said Jack. “An’
-thank y’ ag’in, boys,” and together he and Allan turned back toward
-the waiting train.
-
-Section Twenty-one was the last inspected before dinner, which was
-awaiting them in the big depot dining-room at Wadsworth. The
-officers came down from division headquarters to shake hands with
-the men as they sat grouped about the long tables, and good-natured
-chaff flew back and forth. But at last the engine-bell announced
-that the green-decked train was ready to be off again eastward, over
-the last hundred miles of the division, which ended at Parkersburg.
-
-The men swarmed into their places again, and silence fell instantly
-as the train started, rattling over the switches until it was clear
-of the yards, then settling into a regular click, click, as it swung
-out upon the main line. It must be confessed that this portion of
-the trip had little interest for Allan. The monotony of it—mile
-after mile of track gliding steadily away—began to wear upon him. He
-was no expert in track-construction, and one stretch of road-bed
-looked to him much like every other. So, before long, he found
-himself nodding, and, when he straightened up with a jerk and opened
-his eyes, he found Jack looking at him with a little smile.
-
-They ran in upon a siding at Moonville to make way for a
-passenger-train, and Jack, beckoning to Allan, climbed out upon the
-track.
-
-“I kin see you’re gittin’ tired,” said Jack, as they walked up and
-down, stretching their legs. “I ought to let you stop back there at
-Wadsworth. But mebbe I kin give y’ somethin’ more interestin’ fer
-th’ rest o’ th’ trip. How’d y’ like t’ ride in th’ engine?”
-
-Allan’s eyes sparkled.
-
-“Do you think I might?” he asked, eagerly.
-
-Jack laughed.
-
-“I thought that’d wake y’ up! Yes,—we’ve got Bill Higgins with us on
-this end, an’ I rather think he’ll let you ride in th’ cab. Let’s
-find out.”
-
-So they walked over to where the engineer was “oiling round,” in
-railroad parlance—going slowly about his engine with a long-spouted
-oil-can in one hand and a piece of waste in the other, filling the
-oil-cups, wiping off the bearings, feeling them to see if they were
-too hot, crawling under the boiler to inspect the link motion—in
-short, petting his engine much as one might pet a horse.
-
-“Bill,” began Jack, “this is Allan West, th’ boy thet I took on
-section with me.”
-
-Bill nodded, and looked at Allan with friendly eyes.
-
-“Yes,” he said, “I’ve heerd o’ him.”
-
-“Well,” continued Jack, “he’s gittin’ purty tired ridin’ back there
-with nothin’ t’ do but watch th’ track, an’ I thought mebbe you’d
-let him ride in th’ cab th’ rest o’ th’ trip.”
-
-“Why, sure!” agreed Bill, instantly. “Climb right up, sonny.”
-
-Allan needed no second invitation, but clambered up and took his
-place on one of the long seats which ran along either side of the
-cab. Right in front of him was a narrow window through which he
-could see the track stretching far ahead to meet the horizon. Below
-him was the door to the fire-box, into which the fireman was at that
-moment shovelling coal. At his side, mounted on the end of the
-boiler, was a maze of gauges, cocks, wheels, and levers, whose uses
-he could not even guess.
-
-The engineer clambered up into the cab a moment later, glanced at
-the steam and water gauges, to see that all was right, and then took
-his place on his seat. He got out his “flimsy”—the thin, manifolded
-telegraphic train order from headquarters, a copy of which had also
-been given to the conductor—and read it carefully, noting the points
-at which he was to meet certain trains and the time he was expected
-to make to each. Then he passed it over to his fireman, who also
-read it, according to the rules of the road. One man might forget
-some point in the orders, but it was not probable that two would.
-
-There came a long whistle far down the line, and Allan saw the
-through passenger train leap into view and came speeding toward
-them. It passed with a rush and a roar, and a minute later the
-conductor raised his hand. The engineer settled himself on his seat,
-pushed his lever forward, and opened the throttle gently, pulling it
-wider and wider as the engine gathered speed. Never for an instant
-did his glance waver from the track before him—a moment’s
-inattention might mean death for him and for the men entrusted to
-his care.
-
-There was something fascinating in watching the mighty engine eat up
-mile after mile of track. There were other things to watch, too. At
-every crossing there was the danger of an accident, and Allan was
-astonished at the chances people took in driving across the track,
-without stopping to look up and down to see if there was any danger.
-Deep in talk they were sometimes, until roused by a fierce blast
-from the whistle; or sometimes the curtains of the buggy hid them
-entirely from view. And although the right of way was private ground
-and carefully fenced in on either side, there were many stragglers
-along it,—a group of tramps boiling coffee in a fence corner, a
-horse or cow that had managed to get across a cattle-guard, children
-playing carelessly about or walking the rails in imitation of a
-tight-rope performer. All these had to be watched and warned of
-their danger. Never once did the engineer lift his hand from the
-throttle, for that gave him the “feel” of the engine, almost as the
-reins give the driver the “feel” of a spirited horse. Now and then
-he glanced at the steam-gauge, but turned back instantly to watch
-the track ahead.
-
-Nor was the fireman idle. His first duty was to keep up steam, and
-he noted every variation of the needle which showed the pressure,
-shaking down his fire, and coaling up, as occasion demanded; raking
-the coal down from the tender, so as to have it within easy reach;
-sweeping off the “deck,” as the narrow passage from engine to tender
-is called; and occasionally mounting the seat-box to ring the bell,
-as they passed through a little village.
-
-Allan began to understand the whistle signals—especially the two
-long and two short toots which are the signal for a crossing, the
-signal most familiar to travellers and to those who live along the
-line of a railroad. And he grew accustomed to the rocking of the
-engine, the roaring of the fire, the sudden, vicious hiss of steam
-when the engineer tested a cock, the rush of the wind and patter of
-cinders against the windows of the cab. He began to take a certain
-joy in it—in the noise, the rattle, the motion. There was an
-excitement in it that made his pulses leap.
-
-So they hummed along, between broad fields, through little hamlets
-and crossroads villages, mile after mile. Operators, flagmen, and
-station-agents came out to wave at them, here and there they passed
-a section-gang busy at work, now and then they paused until a
-freight or passenger could thunder past—on and on, on and on. Allan
-looked out at field and village, catching glimpses of men and women
-at work, of children at play—they would turn their faces toward him,
-and in another instant were gone. The life of the whole country was
-unfolded before him,—everywhere there were men and women working,
-everywhere there were children playing,—everywhere there was life
-and hope and happiness and sorrow. If one could only go on like this
-for ever, visiting new scenes, seeing new—
-
-A sharp, sudden, agonized cry from the fireman startled him out of
-his thoughts, and he felt the quick jolt as the engineer reversed
-his engine and applied the brakes. For a moment, in the shrieking,
-jolting pandemonium that followed, he thought the engine was off the
-track; then, as he glanced ahead, his heart suddenly stood still.
-For there, toddling down the track toward the engine, its little
-hands uplifted, its face sparkling with laughter, was a baby, scarce
-old enough to walk!
-
-As long as he lives Allan will never forget that moment. He realized
-that the train could not be stopped, that that little innocent,
-trusting life must be ground out beneath the wheels. He felt that he
-could not bear to see it, and turned away, but just then the fireman
-sprang past him, slammed open the little window, ran along the
-footboard, clambered down upon the pilot, and, holding to a bolt
-with one hand, leaned far over and snatched the little one into the
-air just as the engine bore down upon it. Allan, who had watched it
-all with bated breath, fell back upon his seat with a great gasp of
-thankfulness.
-
-[Illustration: “SNATCHED THE LITTLE ONE INTO THE AIR JUST AS THE ENGINE
-BORE DOWN UPON IT”]
-
-The engine stopped with a jerk, the fireman sprang to the ground
-with the baby in his arms. It was still crowing and laughing, and
-patting his face with its hands. Allan, looking at him, was
-surprised to see the great tears raining down his cheeks and
-spattering on the baby’s clothes.
-
-“It’s his kid,” said the engineer, hoarsely. “He lives up yonder,”
-and he nodded toward a little house perched on the hillside that
-sloped down to the track. “That’s th’ reason th’ kid was down
-here—he come down t’ see his daddy!”
-
-The section-men came pouring forward to find out what was the
-matter, and surrounded the baby as soon as they heard the story,
-petting him, passing him around from hand to hand—until, suddenly,
-the mother, who had just missed him, came flying down the hill and
-snatched him to her breast.
-
-“Pile back in, boys,” called the conductor, cutting short the scene.
-“We can’t stay here all day. We’ve got t’ make Stewart in eighteen
-minutes.”
-
-They hurried back to their places, the engineer, stopping only to
-give his fireman a hearty grip of the hand, opened the throttle.
-This time they were off with a jump—lost time had to be made up, and
-in a moment they were singing along at a speed which seemed
-positively dangerous. The engine rocked back and forth, and seemed
-fairly to leap over the rails; the wind whistled around them; the
-fire roared and howled in the fire-box. Eighteen minutes later, they
-pulled in to the siding at Stewart, on time to the second.
-
-Allan had had enough of riding in the cab, and, thanking the
-engineer, and shaking hands with the fireman, he climbed down and
-took his seat again in the inspection-car. But he was very tired,
-and soon nodded off to sleep, and it was not until the train stopped
-and a sudden clamour of talk arose that he started fully awake.
-
-The men were handing in their reports to the superintendent, who,
-with the assistance of the train-master, was going over them rapidly
-to find out which section had received the most points. Zero was
-very bad; ten was perfection. There were no zeros on any of the
-seventy reports, however; and, let it be added, not many tens.
-
-The moments passed as the train-master set down in a column under
-each section the number of points it had received. Then he added up
-the columns, the superintendent looking over his shoulder. They
-compared the totals for a moment, and then, with a smile, the
-superintendent took from his pocket a check upon which the name only
-was lacking, and filled it in. Then he turned to the expectant men.
-
-“Gentlemen,” he began, “I think this company has cause to be
-congratulated on the condition of its road-bed. A vote of seven
-hundred, as you know, would mean perfection, and yet, not a single
-section has fallen below six hundred. The highest vote for any one
-section is 673, and that vote is given for Section Twenty-one, of
-which John Welsh is foreman. Mr. Welsh, will you please come forward
-and get your check?” and he fluttered the paper in the air above his
-head.
-
-A great burst of cheering broke forth again and again. They were
-generous men, these section-foremen of the Irish Brigade, and,
-seeing how all thought of self was forgotten, Allan’s eyes grew
-suddenly misty. Not a man there who seemed to feel the bitterness of
-the vanquished. But as Allan glanced over to Jack, who was making
-his way over the seats and stopping to return hand-shakes right and
-left, a cheer on his own account burst from the boy’s lips, and he
-tossed his cap wildly in the air.
-
-“Good for ye, lad!” cried one of the men, slapping the boy on his
-back. “Give him a cheer! That’s right. Give him another cheer!” and
-Allan was lifted to the shoulders of one of the brawny men, who
-cried: “This is the b’y that saved Jack Welsh’s colleen, worth more
-than a prize to Jack Welsh! Give the b’y a cheer!”
-
-And the men responded with a will!
-
-A moment later and they settled down again, as they saw the
-superintendent was waiting for their attention.
-
-“Welsh,” began that official, when quiet was restored, “you’re a
-good man, and I’m glad that you got the prize. But,” he added,
-looking around over the crowd, “you’re not the only good man in the
-Irish Brigade. The only thing I’m sorry for is that I can’t give a
-prize to every man here. I’m like the Dodo in ‘Alice in
-Wonderland’—I think you’ve all won, and that you all ought to have
-prizes. I want to thank you every one for your good work. I’m not
-overstating things a bit when I say that this division is in better
-shape than any other on the road. We’ve had fewer accidents, and
-we’ve run our trains closer to the schedule than any other—all of
-which is largely due to your good work. I’m proud of my Irish
-Brigade!”
-
-They cheered him and clapped him, and every man there resolved to do
-better work, if possible, in the coming year than he had done in the
-past one.
-
-And yet there were some of the officials in the far-distant general
-offices at Baltimore who wondered why the superintendent of the Ohio
-division was so popular with his men!
-
- * * * * *
-
-Jack came to Allan at last and gripped his hand with a strength that
-proved how deep his emotion was.
-
-“Come on,” he said. “We’re goin’ home on Number Seven. It’ll start
-in a minute.”
-
-They went together across the tracks and clambered into the coach.
-Allan caught a confused picture of a glare of lights and laughing
-people crowding past. But hardly had the train started when his head
-fell back against the seat, and slumber claimed him.
-
-Jack waked him up at the journey’s end, and together they hurried
-through the yards and up the steep path to the little cottage.
-Jack’s wife was awaiting him in the doorway, and he drew forth the
-check and placed it in her hands.
-
-“We won,” he said, softly. “’Twas fer you, Mary, I wanted t’ win. It
-means th’ new dress you’ve been a-needin’ so long, an’ a dress fer
-Mamie; yes, an’ a new carpet.”
-
-The wife said not a single word, but drew Jack’s face down to hers
-and kissed it.
-
-“Only,” he added, when his head was lifted, “I want t’ give tin
-dollars of it t’ th’ boys—I’d ’a’ lost if it hadn’t been fer them.
-An’ Reddy—how’s old Reddy?”
-
-“Oh, Jack!” she cried, her eyes suffused with sudden tears, her lips
-a-tremble, “it’s too terrible! He’s come to, but he don’t remember
-nothin’—not a thing! He don’t know anybody—not even his own wife,
-Jack, nor th’ childer, an’ th’ doctor says that maybe he never
-will!”
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER IX.
-
- REDDY’S EXPLOIT
-
-
-As time went on, it became more and more evident that the doctor’s
-prediction with regard to Reddy Magraw was to be fulfilled. He
-regained his strength, but the light seemed quite gone from his
-brain. The officials of the railroad company did all they could for
-poor Reddy. When the local doctors failed, they brought an eminent
-specialist from Cincinnati for consultation, but all seemed to agree
-there was nothing to be done but to wait. There was one chance in a
-thousand that a surgical operation might prove of benefit, but there
-was just as great a chance that Nature herself might do the work
-better.
-
-Reddy remembered nothing of his past life. More than this, it
-gradually became evident to his friends that his genial nature had
-undergone a change through the darkness that had overtaken his
-brain. He grew estranged from his family, and strangely suspicious
-of some of his friends, those to whom he had really been most
-attached. Among these last was Allan. He would have nothing whatever
-to do with the boy.
-
-“It’s one of the most ordinary symptoms of dementia,” the doctor had
-explained, when Jack questioned him about it. “Aversion to friends
-is what we always expect. His wife feels it more keenly than you
-do.”
-
-“Of course she does, poor woman!” agreed Jack. “But he hasn’t got to
-abusin’ her, sir, has he?”
-
-“Oh, no; he doesn’t abuse her; he just avoids her, and shows his
-dislike in other ways. If he begins to abuse her, we’ll have to
-send him to the asylum. But I don’t anticipate any violence—I think
-he’s quite harmless.”
-
-It was while they were sitting on the porch one evening discussing
-the sad situation of their friend, that Allan turned suddenly to
-Jack.
-
-“Do you remember,” he said, “that first noon we were talking
-together, you started to tell me of some brave thing Reddy had done,
-and he shut you off?”
-
-“Yes,” Jack nodded; “I remember.”
-
-“Tell me now, won’t you? I’d like to hear about it.”
-
-“All right,” said Jack, and told the story. Here it is:
-
-Six years before, Reddy Magraw had been one of the labourers at the
-big coal-chute which towered into the air at the eastern end of the
-yards; just an ordinary labourer, working early and late, as every
-labourer for a railroad must, but then, as always, happy and
-care-free.
-
-It was one afternoon in June that a message flashed into the
-despatcher’s office which sent the chief despatcher headlong into
-the office of the superintendent.
-
-“The operator at Baker’s just called me up, sir,” he gasped, “to
-report that second Ninety-seven ran through there, going forty miles
-an hour, and that the engineer dropped a message tied to a wrench
-saying his throttle-valve had stuck, and his brakes wouldn’t work,
-and that he couldn’t stop his engine!”
-
-The superintendent started to his feet, his face livid.
-
-“They’ll be here in eight minutes,” he said. “Where’s Number Four?”
-
-“Just past Roxabel. We can’t catch her, and the freight will run
-into her sure if we let it through the yards.”
-
-“We won’t let it through the yards,” said the superintendent, and
-went down the stairs three steps at a time, and sped away in the
-direction of the coal-chute.
-
-He had reflected rapidly that if the freight could be derailed at
-the long switch just below the chute, it could be run into a gravel
-bank, where it would do much less damage than farther up in the
-yards, among the network of switches there. He ran his swiftest, but
-as he reached the chute, he heard, far down the track, the roar of
-the approaching train. Evidently it was not yet under control. Reddy
-Magraw heard the roar, too, and straightened up in amazement. Why
-should a freight approach the yards at that speed? Then he saw the
-superintendent tugging madly at the switch.
-
-“Thet switch won’t work, sir,” he said. “A yard ingine hit the p’int
-about an hour ago an’ jammed it.”
-
-“Won’t work!” echoed the superintendent, and stared blankly down the
-track at the train which every second was whirling nearer.
-
-“Is it a runaway?” asked Reddy, suddenly understanding.
-
-“Yes,—a runaway,—maybe I can make the other switch,” and he started
-away, but Reddy caught him by the arm.
-
-“Wait, sir,” he cried; “wait. We’ll fix ’em—throw ’em on to th’
-chute.”
-
-“On to the chute?”
-
-“Yes, on to th’ chute. Throw th’ switch there,” and Reddy, grabbing
-up two big cans of oil, started for the track leading to the long
-ascent.
-
-Then the superintendent understood, and, with a gasp of relief, ran
-to the switch and threw it.
-
-Up the steep ascent ran Reddy, a can in either hand, spurting
-streams of oil upon the rails—up and up—yet it seemed that he must
-certainly be caught and hurled to death, for a moment later the
-great freight-engine reached the structure, which groaned and
-trembled under this unaccustomed weight. Up the incline it mounted,
-the weight of the train behind it urging it on. Half-way up,
-two-thirds, almost upon Reddy, where he bent over the rails, a can
-in either hand, never pausing to look back.
-
-From under the pounding drivers the smoke flew in clouds—the oil was
-being burned by friction. Yet down the rails flowed more oil; the
-drivers were sliding now, the speed of the train was
-lessening—lessening. The engine was racking itself out, its power
-was spent, it had been conquered. For an instant it hung poised on
-the incline, then slowly started down again. The crew had managed to
-set the hand-brakes, and these held the train somewhat, but still it
-coasted back down that incline at a speed that brought the watchers’
-hearts into their throats. The wheels held the rails, however, and a
-quarter of a mile back on the main line it stopped, its power for
-evil exhausted. And just then Number Four whistled for signal, and
-rumbled slowly into the other end of the yards. The superintendent
-drew a deep breath of relief and thankfulness as he thought of what
-the result would have been had the runaway not been stopped in time.
-
-“Was Reddy hurt?” asked Allan, who had listened to the story
-breathlessly.
-
-“Hurt? Oh, no; he come down th’ chute, put th’ empty oil-cans back
-in their places, an’ went t’ work ag’in.”
-
-“But didn’t the company do something for him?” persisted the boy.
-“Wasn’t he rewarded?”
-
-“No,” said Jack, puffing away at his pipe with a very grim face;
-“but th’ superintendent was promoted.”
-
-“The superintendent?”
-
-“Yes; he got his promotion. Y’ see, in his report of th’ accident,
-he somehow fergot t’ mention Reddy.”
-
-Allan flushed with a sudden generous anger.
-
-“But,” he began, “that wasn’t—”
-
-“Honest?” and Jack laughed a little bitterly. “No, maybe not; but
-what could a poor feller like Reddy do about it? Only,” he added,
-“it’s jest as well fer that superintendent he didn’t stay on this
-division. Th’ boys would ’a’ given him some mighty lively times.
-We’ve got a gentleman fer a superintendent now. He don’t try t’
-stale nobody else’s thunder—he’s given Reddy a square deal this
-time.”
-
-Truth to tell, Reddy’s family was being better provided for than it
-had ever been—the superintendent saw to that; and Reddy himself was
-receiving the best medical attention to be secured, though it seemed
-more and more certain that even the greatest skill would be unable
-to restore his memory.
-
-It was long before sleep came to Allan’s eyes that night, so excited
-was he over Jack’s story of Reddy’s exploit, and so indignant at the
-injustice that had been done him. He was thinking about it still,
-next day, until, of a sudden, he was forcibly reminded that he also
-possessed an enemy who was watching eagerly for an opportunity to
-injure him, and who would pause at no treachery.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER X.
-
- A SUMMONS IN THE NIGHT
-
-
-This reminder came that very afternoon while he was working at the
-bottom of the deep cut through the spur of the hill which marked the
-top of the long, stiff grade just west of the mill switch.
-
-The other members of the gang were at the farther end of the cut,
-and Allan had just finished levelling down a pile of gravel, when he
-heard a sudden shout of warning from Jack.
-
-“Look out, Allan!” cried the latter. “Look out!”
-
-Allan instinctively sprang aside, and was just in time to escape a
-large boulder which came crashing down the side of the cut.
-
-Allan gazed at it in astonishment, drawing a deep breath at his
-escape. Then he saw Jack, followed by the others, charging madly up
-the side of the hill. Without stopping to reason why, he followed.
-
-[Illustration: “JUST IN TIME TO ESCAPE A LARGE BOULDER”]
-
-“What’s the matter?” he cried, as he came panting up behind the ones
-who had just gained the hilltop.
-
-“Matter!” cried Jack, glaring around to right and left over the
-hillside. “Matter enough! What d’ y’ suppose made that rock fall
-that way?”
-
-“Why,” said Allan, looking around bewildered, “the earth under it
-must have given way—”
-
-“Nonsense!” interrupted the foreman, impatiently. “Look, here’s th’
-hole it left. Th’ earth didn’t give way a bit. Y’ kin see th’ rock
-was pried out—yes, an’ here’s th’ rail that was used to do it with.
-Now, who d’ y’ suppose had hold of that rail?”
-
-Allan turned a little giddy at the question.
-
-“Not Dan Nolan?” he said, in an awed whisper.
-
-“Who else but Dan Nolan. An’ he’s hidin’ down there in one o’ them
-gullies, sneakin’ along, keepin’ out o’ sight, or I’m mistaken.”
-
-“Did you see him?” asked Allan.
-
-“No, I didn’t see him,” retorted Jack. “If I’d seen him, I’d have
-him in jail afore night, if I had t’ hunt this whole county over fer
-him. But I know it was him. Who else could it be? You know he’s
-threatened y’. He’s been hangin’ around doggin’ y’ ever since I put
-y’ at this job. There’s more’n one of us knows that; an’ there’s
-more’n one of us knows, too, that he wouldn’t be above jest this
-kind o’ work. He lamed a man on my gang, onct, jest because he had a
-grudge ag’in him—dropped th’ end of a rail on his foot an’ mashed it
-so bad that it had t’ be taken off. He said it was an accident, an’
-I believed him, fer I didn’t know him as well then as I do now. He
-wouldn’t stop at murder, Dan Nolan wouldn’t—why, that rock would ’a’
-killed you in a minute, if it had hit you!”
-
-“Yes, I believe it would,” said Allan, and he shivered a little at
-the thought of his narrow escape.
-
-Jack took another long look around at the hills and valleys, but if
-Nolan was anywhere among them, the trees and underbrush hid him
-effectually. And Allan was loth to believe Jack’s theory; bad as
-Nolan was, it seemed incredible that he should be so savage, so
-cold-blooded, as to lie there on the brink of the precipice,
-waiting, moment by moment, until his victim should be in the precise
-spot where the rock would strike him. That seemed too fiendish for
-belief.
-
-“I wouldn’t like to think Nolan did it,” he said, a little hoarsely,
-“unless I had some proof. You didn’t see him, you know—”
-
-“See him!” echoed Jack. “No—I didn’t need to see him! There’s th’
-hole th’ stone was pried out of, an’ there’s th’ rail that was used
-fer a lever. Now who had hold o’ that rail? Ain’t Nolan th’ only
-enemy you’ve got in th’ world?”
-
-“Yes,” said Allan, in a low voice; “yes, I believe he is.”
-
-“An’ do you suppose a feller would lay fer you like that unless he
-had somethin’ ag’in you? I tell you, Dan Nolan’s hidin’ down there
-in the bushes somewhere, an’ lookin’ up here at us an’ swearin’
-because he didn’t git you!” and Jack shook his fist impatiently at
-the horizon. “If I had him under my heel, I’d kill him like I would
-a snake!”
-
-Which, of course, Jack wouldn’t have done, but his honest Irish
-blood was boiling at this moment, and he said more than he meant.
-
-“Come on, boys,” he added, calming himself by a mighty effort, “we
-can’t ketch him now, but we’ll git th’ scoundrel yet!” and he
-started down the hill, a savage scowl still on his face.
-
-The incident had cast a shadow over the spirits of the gang, and
-they worked the rest of the afternoon in silence. Indeed, ever since
-Reddy’s accident, the gang had lacked that spirit of optimism and
-gaiety which had marked it; a new man had been taken on, but while
-he did Reddy’s work fairly well, he could not take Reddy’s place in
-the hearts of the men. Their day’s work lacked the savour which
-Reddy’s wit had given it, and they went home at night more weary
-than had been their wont. Jack saw, too, that their work had lost
-some of its alacrity, and yet he had no heart to find fault with
-them.
-
-But he took no more chances of Allan’s suffering any treacherous
-injury. He had talked the matter over with his wife, and between
-them, they had laid out a plan of action. Whenever possible, Jack
-kept Allan near him. When that was not possible, he took care that
-the boy should not be alone at any spot where his enemy could sneak
-up on him from behind. He knew if the boy was injured through any
-carelessness or lack of foresight on his part, he would never dare
-to go home again and face his wife!
-
-All of this was, of course, plain enough to Allan, and chafed him
-somewhat, for he did not want the rest of the gang to think him a
-baby who needed constant looking after. Besides, he had an honest
-reliance on his ability to look after himself. So, one day, he
-ventured to protest.
-
-“See here, Jack,” he said, “I’m not afraid of Dan Nolan. In fact, I
-think I’d be rather glad of the chance to meet him in a fair
-stand-up fight.”
-
-“An’ that’s just th’ chance he’ll never give ye,” retorted Jack. “I
-wouldn’t be afeerd o’ him, either, if he’d fight fair—I believe y’
-could lick him. But he won’t fight fair. Th’ coward’ll hit y’ from
-behind, if he kin—an’ he’s waitin’ his chance. That’s his kind, as
-y’ ought t’ know by this time. Oh, if I could only ketch him!”
-
-But since the afternoon that great rock had fallen, Nolan had
-utterly disappeared from his accustomed haunts. Jack made diligent
-inquiries, but could get no news of him. The gang of scalawags who
-were his usual companions professed to be utterly ignorant of his
-whereabouts. He had been sleeping in a little closet back of one of
-the low railroad saloons, paying for board and lodging by cleaning
-out the place every morning, but the proprietor of the place said he
-had not been near there for a week. So at last Jack dropped his
-inquiries, hoping against hope that Nolan had taken alarm and left
-the neighbourhood.
-
-Reddy continued to improve physically from day to day, but mentally
-he grew worse and worse. His broken arm had healed nicely, and the
-wound in his head was quite well, but the injury to the brain
-baffled all the skill of his physicians. He would sit around the
-house, moping, seemingly taking notice of nothing; then he would
-suddenly start up and walk rapidly away as though he had just
-remembered some important engagement. Frequently he would be gone
-all day, sometimes even all night. He was rarely at home at
-meal-times, and yet he never seemed to be hungry.
-
-Mrs. Magraw could never find out from him where he spent all this
-time. He refused to answer her questions, until, seeing how they
-vexed him, she ceased from bothering him, and let him go his own
-way. Of her bitter hours of despair and weeping, she allowed him to
-see nothing, but tried always to present to him the same cheerful
-and smiling countenance she had worn in the old days before his
-injury. In spite of this, he grew more and more morose, more and
-more difficult to get along with. The doctor advised that he be
-taken to an asylum, but the very word filled his wife with a
-nameless dread, and she prayed that he might be left in her care a
-little while longer. Perhaps he might grow better; at any rate,
-unless he grew worse, she could look after him.
-
-One morning, about a week after the attempt upon Allan’s life, he
-and Jack were working together on the embankment by the river’s
-edge, when the foreman stopped suddenly, straightened himself, and,
-shading his eyes with his hand, gazed long and earnestly across the
-water. Allan, following his look, saw two men sitting by a clump of
-willows, talking earnestly together. Their figures seemed familiar,
-but it was not until one of them leaped to his feet, waving his arms
-excitedly, that he recognized him as Reddy Magraw.
-
-“Who is the other one?” he asked.
-
-“It’s Dan Nolan,” said the foreman between his teeth. “What deviltry
-d’ y’ suppose he’s puttin’ int’ that poor feller’s head?”
-
-Allan did not answer, but a strange foreboding fell upon him as he
-watched Reddy’s excited oratory. Then the two watchers saw Nolan
-suddenly pull Reddy down, and together they vanished behind the
-trees.
-
-What could it mean? Allan asked himself. What villainy was Dan Nolan
-plotting? Was he trying to make poor, half-witted Reddy his
-instrument for the commission of some crime?
-
-Jack, too, worked away in unaccustomed silence and unusual heaviness
-of heart, for he was asking himself the same questions. Something
-must be done; Reddy must not be led into any mischief; and no
-influence which Nolan might gain over him could be anything but bad.
-It was like the coward to try to get another man to do what he
-himself shrank from doing.
-
-The morning passed and noon came, but neither Jack nor Allan had
-relish for their dinner—the incident of the morning had spoiled
-their appetites.
-
-“We’ll have t’ look out after Reddy some way,” said Jack, at last,
-and then fell silent again.
-
-They were soon back at work, and Allan, busy with his thoughts, did
-not notice that the air grew chill and the sky overcast.
-
-“The’ll be a storm t’-night,” observed Jack at last, looking around
-at the sky.
-
-“’Fore night,” said one of the workmen. “We’ll be havin’ to quit
-work purty soon.”
-
-Even to an unpractised eye, the signs were unmistakable. Down from
-the north great banks of black clouds were sweeping, and the wind
-felt strangely cold, even for the last days of October. At last came
-the swift patter of the rain, and then a swirl of great, soft,
-fleecy flakes.
-
-“Snow!” cried Jack. “Well, ’f I ever!”
-
-All stopped to watch the unaccustomed spectacle of snow in October.
-It fell thick and fast, the flakes meeting and joining in the air
-into big splotches of snow, which melted almost as soon as it
-touched the ground. Two of the men, who had been blotted from sight
-for a moment, came hurrying toward the others.
-
-“We might as well quit,” said Jack. “We can’t work this kind o’
-weather;” and so they started homeward through the storm, an hour
-before the usual time.
-
-As the evening passed, the storm grew heavier and more violent.
-Looking out from the window after supper, Allan found that the whole
-world was shut from sight behind that swirling white curtain. From
-time to time he could hear the faint rumble of a train in the yards
-below, but no gleam of the engine’s headlight penetrated to him.
-
-“It’s a bad night fer railroadin’,” Jack remarked, looking out
-beside him. “A bad night. Th’ rails ’r so slippy th’ wheels can’t
-grip ’em, an’ th’ engineer might as well shut his eyes fer all th’
-good his headlight does him. An’ th’ brakeman—fancy runnin’ along
-th’ two-foot path on the top of a train in a storm like this!”
-
-But trainmen cannot stop for wind or weather, darkness or stress of
-storm, and the trains rumbled in and out through the night, most of
-them behind time, to be sure, but feeling their way along as best
-they could, while up in the offices the despatchers, with tense
-nerves and knitted brows, struggled to maintain order in the midst
-of chaos. The wires were working badly, every train on the road was
-behind the schedule; out at some of the little stations, the
-operators, unused to the strain, were growing nervous. The
-superintendent closed his desk with a bang, after dictating the last
-letter; but instead of going home, as usual, he stood around with
-his hands in his pockets, listening to the wildly clicking
-instruments, and chewing a cigar savagely.
-
-Allan lay for a long time that night listening to the trains,
-thinking of the wonderful system by which the great business was
-managed. He could understand, as yet, only a little of this system,
-and he was hungering to know more. Then the scene of the morning
-came back to him, and he tossed from side to side, thinking of it.
-Poor Reddy—yes, he needed looking after if Dan Nolan had got hold of
-him. Reddy’s mind was more that of a child than of a man at present.
-What an evil influence Dan might have over him if he cared to use
-it!
-
-At last sleep came; but in an instant he was back again at the river
-bank peering across at the figures on the other side. They were
-talking together; they seemed to be quarrelling. Then, suddenly,
-Nolan caught the other by the throat and hurled him backward over
-the bank into the water. Reddy sank with a wild cry; then his head
-reappeared, and he caught a glimpse of the boy standing on the
-farther bank.
-
-“Allan!” he cried, stretching out his arms imploringly. “Allan!”
-
-Allan sat bolt upright, rubbing his eyes, straining his ears to hear
-the call again.
-
-“Allan!”
-
-It was Jack’s voice,—he knew it now,—but the dawn was not peeping in
-at the window, as was usual when Jack called him. He realized that
-the night had not yet passed. He caught a glimmer of yellow light
-under his door and heard Jack putting on his boots in the room
-below.
-
-Fully awake at last, he sprang out of bed and opened the door.
-
-“What is it?” he called down the stair. “Do you want me?”
-
-“Yes. Hurry up,” answered Jack’s voice.
-
-Allan threw on his clothes with trembling hands, and hastened
-down-stairs. He found Jack already at table, eating hastily.
-
-“Set down,” said the latter, “an’ fill up. It’s mighty uncertain
-when ye’ll git another square meal.”
-
-“We’re going out?” asked the boy. “Then there’s a wreck?”
-
-“Yes, a wreck—freight, near Vinton. Th’ caller jest come fer me.
-It’s so bad all th’ section-gangs on this end ’r ordered out. Eat
-all y’ kin. Better drink some coffee, too. Y’ll need it.”
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XI.
-
- CLEARING THE TRACK
-
-
-Allan did his best to force himself to eat, but the strangeness of
-the hour and the excitement of the promised adventure took all
-desire for food from him. He managed, however, to drink a cup of
-coffee, but his hands were trembling so with excitement he could
-scarcely hold the cup. It was a wreck, and a bad one. How terrible
-to lose a moment! He was eager to be off. But Jack knew from
-experience the value and need of food while it could be obtained, in
-view of what might be before them.
-
-“It’ll take ’em some time t’ git’ th’ wreckin’-train ready,” he
-said. “Git our waterproofs, Mary.”
-
-But Mary had them waiting, as well as a lot of sandwiches. She had
-been through such scenes before.
-
-“There, stuff your pockets full,” she said to Allan. “You’ll want
-’em.”
-
-Jack nodded assent, and took his share.
-
-“And now, good-bye, Mary,” said Jack. “No, don’t wake the baby. If
-we git back by t’-morrer night, we’ll be lucky. Come on, Allan.”
-
-The snow was still falling heavily as they left the house, and they
-made their way with some difficulty to the corner of the yards where
-the wrecking-train stood on its spur of siding. A score of
-section-men had already gathered, and more were coming up every
-minute. Nobody knew anything definite about the wreck—some one had
-heard that Bill Miller, the engineer, was hurt. It seemed they were
-taking a doctor along, for Allan saw his tall form in the uncertain
-light. And the train-master and division superintendent were with
-him, talking together in low tones.
-
-Jack began checking off his men as they came up and reported.
-
-An engine backed up and coupled on to the wrecking-train, and the
-men slowly clambered aboard. The switch at the end of the siding was
-opened.
-
-“How many men have you got, Welsh?” asked Mr. Schofield, the
-train-master.
-
-“Thirty-six, so far, sir.”
-
-“All right. We’ll pick up the gangs on Twenty-three and four as we
-pass. Go ahead,” he shouted to the engineer. “We’ve got a clear
-track to Vinton,” and he followed Allan and Jack up the steps into
-the car.
-
-There was a hiss of steam into the cylinders and the train pulled
-slowly out upon the main track, the wheels slipping over the rails
-at first, but gripping better as the train gathered headway and shot
-eastward into the whirling snow. Operators, switchmen,
-station-agents, flagmen, all looked out to see it pass. It had only
-two cars—one, a long flat car loaded with ties and rails, piled with
-ropes and jacks and crowbars. At one end stood the heavy steel
-derrick, strong enough to lift even a great mogul of a
-freight-engine and swing it clear of the track.
-
-In the other car, which looked very much like an overgrown box-car,
-was the powerful donkey-engine which worked the derrick, more tools,
-a cooking-stove, and a number of narrow cots. Two oil-lanterns swung
-from the roof, half-illuminating the faces of the men, who sat along
-the edges of the cots, talking together in low tones.
-
-At Byers, the section-gang from Twenty-three clambered aboard; at
-Hamden came the gangs from Twenty-four and Twenty-five. Nearly sixty
-men were crowded together in the car; but there was little noise. It
-reminded Allan of a funeral.
-
-And it was a funeral. The great railroad, binding East to West, was
-lying dead, its back broken, useless, its circulation stopped. The
-line was blocked, the track torn up—it was no longer warm, living,
-vital. It had been torn asunder. It was a mere useless mass of wood
-and steel. These men were hastening to resurrect it, to make it
-whole again.
-
-At McArthur the superintendent came aboard with a yellow paper in
-his hand,—the conductor’s report of the accident,—and he and the
-train-master bent their heads together over it. The men watched them
-intently.
-
-“Is it a bad one, sir?” asked Jack at last.
-
-“Bad enough,” answered the superintendent. “It seems that first
-Ninety-eight broke in two on the grade just beyond Vinton. Track so
-slippery they couldn’t hold, and she ran back into the second
-section. They came together in the cut at the foot of the grade, and
-fifteen cars loaded with nut coal were wrecked. Miller seems the
-only one hurt, but the track’s torn up badly.”
-
-“Nut coal!” said Jack, with a whistle. “We’ve got our work cut out
-for us, boys.”
-
-The men nodded—they knew now what to expect. And they fell to
-talking together in low tones, telling stories of past wrecks, of
-feats of endurance in the breathless battle which always follows
-when this leviathan of steel is torn asunder. But the superintendent
-had used one word which Allan had not wholly understood, and he took
-the first opportunity to ask Jack about it.
-
-“What did Mr. Heywood mean, Jack,” he inquired, “when he said the
-train broke in two?”
-
-“That’s so,” and Jack laughed. “It’s your first one—I’d forgot that.
-I wish it was mine,” and he forthwith explained just how the
-accident had probably happened.
-
-A “break-in-two” occurs usually as a train is topping a heavy grade.
-The unusual strain breaks a coupling-pin or pulls out a draw-bar,
-and the portion of the train released from the engine goes whirling
-back down the grade, carrying death and destruction with it, unless
-the crew can set the brakes and get it stopped. Or, on a down-grade,
-a coupling-pin jumps out and then the two sections come together
-with a crash, unless the engineer sees the danger in time, and runs
-away at full speed from the pursuing section. It is only freights
-that “break in two,” for passenger couplings are made heavy enough
-to withstand any strain; besides, the moment a passenger-train
-parts, the air-brakes automatically stop both sections. But to
-freight crews there is no danger more menacing than the
-“break-in-two,” although, happily, this danger is gradually growing
-less and less, with the introduction of air-brakes on freight-cars
-as well as passenger.
-
-Freight-trains, when traffic is heavy, are usually run in sections,
-with as many cars to each section as an engine can handle. The
-sections are run as close together as they can be with safety, and,
-in railroad parlance, the first section of Freight-train
-Ninety-eight, for instance, is known as “first Ninety-eight”; the
-second section as “second Ninety-eight,” and so on.
-
-In this instance, the first section of Train Ninety-eight had broken
-in two at the top of a long grade, and fifteen coal-cars, together
-with the caboose, had gone hurtling back down the grade, finally
-crashing into the front end of the second section, which was
-following about a mile behind. The conductor and brakemen, who were
-in the caboose, after a vain attempt to stop the runaway cars with
-the hand-brakes, had jumped off, and escaped with slight bruises,
-but the engineer and fireman of the second section had had no
-warning of their danger until the cars swept down upon them out of
-the storm. There was no time to jump—it would have been folly to
-jump, anyhow, since the high walls of the cut shut them in on either
-side; yet the fireman had escaped almost unhurt, only the engineer
-being badly injured. The impact of the collision had been terrific,
-and, as the telegram from the conductor stated, fifteen cars had
-been completely wrecked.
-
-So much the section-men understood from the superintendent’s brief
-description, and Jack explained it to Allan, while the others
-listened, putting in a word of correction now and then.
-
-On and on sped the wrecking-train through the night. The oil-lamps
-flared and flickered, throwing a yellow, feeble light down into the
-car, where the men sat crowded together, for the most part silent
-now, figuring on the task before them. It was evident that it would
-be no easy one, but they had confidence in their officers,—the same
-confidence that soldiers have in a general whose ability has been
-fully tested,—and they knew that the task would be made as easy as
-might be.
-
-The atmosphere of the car grew close to suffocation. Every one,
-almost, was smoking, and the lamps soon glowed dimly through the
-smoke like the sun upon a foggy day. Outside, the snow still fell,
-thickly, softly; their engineer could not see the track twenty feet
-ahead; but the superintendent had told him that the way was clear,
-so he kept his throttle open and plunged blindly on into the night,
-for every moment was valuable now; every nerve must be strained to
-the utmost tension until the task of clearing the track had been
-accomplished.
-
-So the fireman bent steadily to the work of keeping up steam,
-clanging the door of the fire-box back and forth between each
-shovelful of coal, in order to keep the draught full strength. The
-flames licked out at him each time the door was opened, lighting the
-cab with yellow gleams, which danced across the polished metal and
-illumined dimly the silent figure of the engineer peering forward
-into the storm. The engine rocked and swayed, the wind swirled and
-howled about it, and tried to hold it back, but on and on it
-plunged, never pausing, never slackening. Any one who was on the
-track to-night must look out for himself; but, luckily, the right of
-way was clear, crossing after crossing was passed without accident;
-the train tore through little hamlets, awakening strange echoes
-among the darkened houses, and, as it passed, the operator would run
-out to look at it, and, after a single glance, would rush back to
-his key, call frantically for “G I,”—the despatcher’s office,—and
-tick in the message that the wrecking-train had got that far on its
-journey.
-
-Back in the wrecking-car the superintendent had taken out his watch
-and sat with it a moment in his hand.
-
-“We’re going a mile a minute,” he remarked to the train-master.
-“Higgins is certainly hitting her up.”
-
-The train-master nodded and turned again to the conductor’s report.
-He was planning every detail of the battle which must be fought.
-
-Jack glanced at Allan, and smiled.
-
-“You’re wonderin’ how he could tell how fast we’re going, ain’t ye?”
-he asked.
-
-“Yes,” said Allan, “I am. How did he tell?”
-
-“By listenin’ t’ th’ click o’ th’ wheels over th’ rails,” answered
-Jack. “Each rail’s thirty foot long—that is, there’s a hundred an’
-seventy-six to th’ mile. Mister Heywood probably kept tab on them
-fer fifteen seconds and counted forty-four clicks, so he knowed we
-was goin’ a mile a minute.”
-
-“Here we are,” remarked the train-master, as the wheels clanked over
-a switch, and, sure enough, a moment later their speed began to
-slacken.
-
-Jack looked down at Allan and grinned again, as he saw the
-astonishment written on the boy’s face.
-
-“You’re wonderin’ how Mr. Schofield could tell that, ain’t you?” he
-asked. “Why, bless you, he knows this here division like a book. Put
-him down on any part of it blindfolded and he’ll tell you right
-where he is. He knows every foot of it.”
-
-Perhaps Jack exaggerated unconsciously, but there was no doubt that
-Mr. Schofield, like every other good train-master, knew his division
-thoroughly—the location of every switch, the length of every siding,
-the position of every signal, the capacity of every engine. Nay,
-more, he knew the disposition of every conductor and engineer. When
-Milliken, for instance, wired in a protest that he couldn’t take
-another load, he would smile placidly and repeat his previous
-orders; if Rogers made the same complaint, he would wire back
-tersely, “All right.” He knew that Milliken was always complaining,
-while Rogers never did without cause. He knew his track, his
-equipment, and his men—and that is, no doubt, the reason why,
-to-day, he is superintendent of one of the most important divisions
-of the system.
-
-The wrecking-train slowed and stopped, and the men clambered
-painfully to the ground, and went forward to take a look at the task
-before them. It was evident in a moment that it was a bigger one
-than any had anticipated—so big, indeed, that it seemed to Allan, at
-least, that it would be far easier to build a new track around the
-place than to try to open the old one. From side to side of the deep
-cut, even with the top, the coal was heaped, mixed with splintered
-boards and twisted iron that had once been freight-cars. High on the
-bank perched the engine, thrown there by the mighty blow that had
-been dealt it. On either side were broken and splintered cars, and
-the track was torn and twisted in a way that seemed almost beyond
-repair. It was a scene of chaos such as the boy had never before
-witnessed, and even the old, tried section-men were staggered when
-they looked at it. It seemed impossible that anything so puny as
-mere human strength could make any impression upon that tangled,
-twisted mass.
-
-The doctor hurried away to attend to the injured engineer, who had
-been removed to the caboose by the crew of the second section, while
-the officers went forward to look over the battle-field. At the end
-of three minutes they had prepared their plan of action, and the men
-responded with feverish energy. Great cables were run out and
-fastened to the shattered frames of the coal-cars, which were
-dragged out of the mass of wreckage by the engine, and then hoisted
-from the track and thrown to one side out of the way. The
-donkey-engine puffed noisily away, while the derrick gripped trucks
-and wheels and masses of twisted iron and splintered beams, and
-swung them high on the bank beside the road with an ease almost
-superhuman. The men went to work with a will, under the supervision
-of the officers, dragging out the smaller pieces of wreckage. Hour
-after hour they toiled, until, at last, only the coal remained—a
-great, shifting, treacherous mass—ton upon ton—fifteen car-loads—a
-veritable mountain of coal. And here the derrick could be of no
-use—there was only one way to deal with it. It must be shovelled
-from the track by hand!
-
-It was a task beside which the labours of Hercules seemed small by
-comparison. But no one stopped to think about its enormousness—it
-had to be done, and done as quickly as possible. In a few moments,
-sixty shovels were attacking the mighty mass, rising and falling
-with a dogged persistence which, in the end, must conquer any
-obstacle.
-
-Dawn found the men at this trying work. At seven o’clock hot coffee
-and sandwiches were served out to them, and they stopped work for
-ten minutes to swallow the food. At eight, a cold rain began to
-fall, that froze into sleet upon the ground, so that the men could
-scarcely stand. Still they laboured doggedly on. Train-master and
-superintendent were everywhere, encouraging the men, making certain
-that not a blow was wasted, themselves taking a hand now and then,
-with pick or shovel. There was no thought of rest; human nature must
-be pushed to its utmost limit of endurance—this great leviathan of
-steel and oak must be made whole again. All along its two hundred
-miles of track, passengers were waiting, fuming, impatient to reach
-their destinations; thousands of tons of freight filled the sidings,
-waiting the word that would permit it to go forward. Here in the
-hills, with scarcely a house in sight, was the wound that stretched
-the whole system powerless—that kept business men from their
-engagements, wives from husbands, that deranged the plans of
-hundreds; ay, more than that, it was keeping food from the hungry,
-the ice was melting in refrigerator-cars, peaches and apples were
-spoiling in hot crates, cattle were panting with thirst,—all waiting
-upon the labours of this little army, which was fighting so
-valiantly to set things right.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XII.
-
- UNSUNG HEROES
-
-
-Allan laboured savagely with the others. One thought sang in his
-brain, keeping time to the steady rise and fall of the shovels: “The
-track must be cleared; the track must be cleared.” The great pile of
-coal before him took on a hideous and threatening personality—it was
-a dragon, with its claws at the road’s throat. It must be
-conquered—must be dragged away. From time to time he stopped a
-moment to munch one of the sandwiches, not noticing the dirt and
-coal-dust that settled upon it. He was not hungry, but he felt
-instinctively that he must eat the food.
-
-Most of the other men were chewing tobacco, their jaws working
-convulsively in unison with their arms. They had long since ceased
-to be human beings—they had become machines. Their movements were
-precise, automatic, regular. Their faces grew gradually black and
-blacker in the perpetual dust which arose from the coal; their eyes
-became rimmed with black, and bloodshot under the constant
-irritation of the dust. They breathed it in, swallowed it, absorbed
-it. Their sense of smell and taste gradually left them—or, at least,
-they could smell and taste only one thing, coal-dust. They ceased to
-resemble men; one coming upon them unawares would have taken them
-for some horrible group from Dante’s inferno, doing terrible penance
-through eternity. They looked neither to the right nor left; their
-eyes were always on the coal—on this shifting black monster with
-which they were doing battle. Their hands seemed welded to the
-shovels, which rose and fell, rose and fell.
-
-The cold rain beat in sheets around them, soaking their clothes, and
-yet they scarcely felt this added discomfort, so intent were they
-upon the task before them. Most of them had thrown off their coats
-at the beginning of the struggle, and now their wet shirts stuck
-tightly to their skins, showing every muscle. Gradually, by almost
-imperceptible degrees, the pile of coal on the banks of the cut grew
-higher; gradually the pile on the track grew less, but so slowly
-that it was agonizing.
-
-Above them on the bank, the great locomotive, hurled there and
-turned completely around by the force of the collision, stood a grim
-sentinel. It was the one piece of luck, the officers told
-themselves, in connection with this wreck, that the engine had been
-tossed there out of the way. To have raised it from the track and
-placed it there would have taken hours, and every minute was so
-precious! It would take hours to get it down again, but that need
-not be done until the track was clear.
-
-Toward the middle of the morning, three fresh gangs of men came from
-the east and fell to work beside the others. But the others did not
-think of stopping. Instead, with staring eyes and tight-set teeth,
-they worked a little harder, to keep pace with the freshness and
-vigour of the newcomers. Ninety shovels were hurling the coal aside,
-digging into it, eating it away. Here, there, and everywhere the
-officials went, seeing that every stroke told, that not an ounce of
-energy was wasted, taking a hand themselves, driving themselves as
-hard as any of the men. Soon the coal was heaped so high along the
-sides of the cut that a force was put to work throwing it farther
-back. Almost all of it had to be handled twice!
-
-Noon came—a dark noon without a sun; a noon marked by no hour of
-rest for these toilers. Back in the wrecking-car a great boiler of
-coffee steamed and bubbled; the cook carried pails of it among the
-men, who paused only long enough to swallow a big dipperful. Even
-Allan, who had no taste for it, drank deep and long, and he was
-astonished at the flood of warm vigour it seemed to send through
-him. Every half-hour this coffee was passed around, strong and black
-and stimulating. It was a stimulation for which the men would pay
-later on in limp reaction, but it did its work now.
-
-Experience had proved that no other means was so good as this to
-sustain men against fatigue, hour after hour, and to drive away
-sleep from the brain. Time was when the railroad company had
-experimented with other stimulants, but they had long since been
-discarded.
-
-Still the rain descended, and a biting wind from the north turned
-the weather steadily colder and colder. A sheet of sleet formed over
-the coal, welding it into a solid mass, which required the vigorous
-use of picks to dislodge. The men slipped and stumbled, gasping with
-exhaustion, but still the shovels rose and fell. Here and there, the
-twisted and broken track began to appear.
-
-At the side of the track the train-master called a lineman, who
-carried a wire up a pole and attached it to one of the wires
-overhead. A telegraph instrument was connected with this, and,
-sitting down upon the bank, the train-master ticked in to
-headquarters the news that the track would be clear at midnight, and
-repaired six hours later.
-
-In this, as in everything, the train-master knew his men. Ten
-minutes before midnight the last shovelful of coal was out of the
-way,—the track was clear,—one part of the battle had been won. But
-another part yet remained to fight,—the track must be rebuilt, and
-the work of doing it began without a moment’s delay. The twisted
-rails and splintered ties were wrenched out of the way; the
-road-bed, which had been ploughed up by the wheels of the derailed
-cars, was hastily levelled. From the wrecking-car gangs of men
-staggered under new ties and rails, which were piled along beside
-the track where they would be needed.
-
-At last the road-bed was fairly level again, and ties were laid with
-feverish energy by the light of the flaring torches, which gave the
-scene a weirdness which it had lacked by day. Phantoms of men moved
-back and forth, now disappearing in the darkness, now leaping into
-view again, working doggedly on, to their very last ounce of
-strength and endurance.
-
-As the ties were got into place, the rails were spiked down upon
-them and fish-plates were bolted into place. Rod after rod they
-advanced, tugging, hammering, with the energy of desperation. It was
-no question now of a perfect road-bed—rail must be joined to rail so
-that once more the red blood of commerce could be pumped along the
-artery they formed. After that there would be time for the fine
-points. And just as the sun peeped over the eastern hills, the last
-spike was driven, the last bolt tightened. The work was done.
-
-The men cheered wildly, savagely, their voices hoarse and unnatural.
-Then they gathered up their tools, staggered to the car, and fell
-exhausted on bunk or chair or floor, and went instantly to sleep.
-Allan found afterward that he had no memory whatever of those last
-trying hours.
-
-At the side of the road the train-master was ticking off a message
-which told that his promise was kept,—a message which sent a thrill
-of life along the line from end to end,—which told that the road was
-clear. Then he cut loose his instrument, and he and the
-superintendent walked back to the car together. They were no longer
-the trim, good-looking men of every day—they were haggard, gaunt,
-unshaven. Their eyes were bloodshot, their clothing soiled and torn.
-They had not spared themselves. For thirty-six hours they had been
-working without so much as lifting their hats from their heads. But
-they had won the battle—as they had won many others like it, though
-few quite so desperate.
-
-On either side the track was piled a mass of twisted wreckage; the
-engine still lay high on the bank. That could wait. Another crew
-could haul the engine down and gather up the débris, for the track
-was open.
-
-The journey back took longer than the journey out. At every siding
-they headed in to let passenger and freight whirl past; the blood
-was bounding now, trying to make up for the time it had been
-stopped. But the men lying in the car saw none of them; the roar of
-their passage did not awaken them—they knew not whether the trip
-back took two hours or ten—they were deaf, blind, dead with fatigue.
-Only at the journey’s end were they awakened, and it was no easy
-task. But at last they had all arisen, gaunt shadows of their former
-selves.
-
-“Boys,” said the superintendent, “I want to tell you that I’ve never
-seen a wreck handled as well as you handled this one. You did great
-work, and I’m proud of you. Now go home and go to sleep,—sleep
-twenty-four hours if you can. Don’t report for duty till to-morrow.
-And I promise you I won’t forget this night’s work.”
-
-They staggered away through the curious crowd at the station, seeing
-nothing, turning instinctively in the direction of their homes.
-
-“Why,” remarked one white-haired man, gazing after them, “they look
-just as we looked after we got through the Wilderness. They look
-like they’ve been under fire for a week.”
-
-The superintendent, passing, heard the remark.
-
-“They have,” he answered, dryly. “They’ve been under the heaviest
-kind of fire continuously for thirty-six hours. You fellows have had
-whole libraries written about you, and about a thousand monuments
-built to you. You get a pension while you live, and your grave is
-decorated when you die. I’m not saying you don’t deserve it all, for
-I believe you do. But there’s some other people in the world who
-deserve honour and glory, too,—section-men, for instance. I never
-heard of anybody building a monument to them, or calling them
-heroes; and, if there are any flowers on their graves, it’s their
-families put them there!”
-
-He passed on, while his auditor stared open-mouthed, not knowing
-whether to be moved or angry. The superintendent’s nerves were
-shaken somewhat, or he might have spoken less bitterly; but a sudden
-sharp sense of the world’s injustice had clamoured for utterance.
-
-And the wrecking-train was run in again on the siding, ready for the
-next trip.
-
-The men, of course, paid the penalty for their almost superhuman
-exertions. No men could work as they had done and not feel the
-after-effects in diminished vitality. The younger ones among them
-soon recovered, for youth has a wonderful power of recuperation; the
-older ones were a little more bent, a little more gnarled and
-withered, a little nearer the end of the journey. They had
-sacrificed themselves on the altar of the great system which they
-served; they had done so without a murmur, with no thought of
-shirking or holding back. They would do so again without an
-instant’s hesitation whenever duty called them. For that was their
-life-work, to which they were dedicated with a simple, unquestioning
-devotion. There was something touching about it,—something grand and
-noble, too,—just as there is in a man dedicating himself to any
-work, whether to conquer the world with Napoleon, or to keep clean a
-stretch of street pavement committed to his care. It was this
-dedication, this singleness of purpose—this serfdom to the
-road—which Allan grew to understand more and more deeply, and to
-glory in.
-
-And it was not an unworthy service, for the road was worth devotion.
-Not the company of capitalists, who sat in an office somewhere in
-the East and manipulated its stocks and bonds, but the road
-itself,—this thing of steel and oak which had rendered possible the
-development of the country, which had added fabulously to its
-wealth, which bound together its widely separated States into one
-indivisible Union. They were servants of the force which, more than
-any other, has made our modern civilization possible.
-
-Let me add that the story of this wreck is no imaginary one. It is a
-true story which actually occurred just as it is set down here; it
-is an experience which repeats itself over and over again in the
-life of every railroad man; it was a battle which, in one form or
-another, railroad men are always fighting, and always winning. And,
-more than most battles, is it worth winning!
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XIII.
-
- A NEW DANGER
-
-
-There is a superstition among railroad men which, strangely enough,
-is seemingly warranted by experience, that when one wreck occurs,
-two more are certain to follow. And, sure enough, two more did
-follow, though neither was so serious as the one at Vinton; which,
-indeed, still lives in the memories of those who helped clear it
-away as the worst that ever happened on the division.
-
-Not so serious, that is, in delaying the traffic of the road, but
-more serious in another way, since both entailed loss of life. The
-first one occurred just three days after the wreck at Vinton. A
-freight-train had taken a siding about five miles east of Wadsworth
-to allow the through east-bound express to pass, but the brakeman on
-the freight, who was a green hand, forgot to throw the switch back
-again after the freight-train had backed in upon the siding. He
-climbed up into the cab, and he and the engineer and fireman sat
-there chatting away, all unconscious of the impending disaster. In a
-moment, they heard the roar of the approaching train, and then it
-flashed into view far down the track. They turned to watch it, to
-admire the clean lines of the engine as it whirled toward them;
-then, as it reached the switch, they were horrified to see it turn
-in upon the siding. There was no time to move, to cry out, to
-attempt to save themselves. An instant of horrified suspense, and
-the crash came, and the two engines, together with the cars
-immediately behind them, were piled together into a torn and twisted
-mass of wreckage,—wreckage through which blistering steam hissed and
-about which in a moment hungry flames began to lap,—wreckage from
-which no man came forth alive. But, as the accident occurred upon a
-siding, the main track was not even blocked, and the wreckage was
-cleared away without the feverish haste which marked the wreck at
-Vinton.
-
-The third wreck occurred at Torch, a little station on the east end
-of the road, when both engineer and fireman of an east-bound
-freight-train forgot their orders to take the siding there, to make
-way for the west-bound flier, and continued on full speed past the
-station. The conductor recognized the error at once, but he was away
-back in the caboose at the other end of the train. He sent a
-brakeman flying forward over the cars to warn the engineer of his
-danger, but, before he had got forward half the length of the train,
-the express hurtled down upon them, and both engineer and fireman
-paid for their forgetfulness with their lives. This wreck was so far
-east that it was handled from Parkersburg, and the gang from Section
-Twenty-one was not called out.
-
-This series of accidents impressed deeply upon Allan’s mind the
-terrible peculiarity which belongs to railroading. In most of life’s
-ordinary occupations, a mistake may be retrieved; on the railroad,
-almost never. To make a mistake there is, almost inevitably, to
-sacrifice life and property. The railroad man who makes a mistake
-never has the chance to make a second one. If he survives the first
-one, his dismissal from the road’s employ will follow. Mistakes on a
-railroad are too expensive to risk them by employing careless men.
-
-The employés of the road breathed easier after the accident at
-Torch. Until the fatal three had occurred, every man feared that his
-turn would come next; now they knew that they were safe until
-another series was started. Whether it was from the increased
-self-confidence and self-control which this belief engendered, or
-whether there really was some basis for this railroad superstition,
-at any rate, no more accidents occurred, and the road’s operation
-proceeded smoothly and uneventfully.
-
-One exciting battle there was in late September. The fall rains had
-been unusually heavy and persistent; every little brook became a
-roaring torrent, loosening bridges and culverts, seeping under the
-road-bed, and demanding constant vigilance on the part of the
-section-gangs. As the rain continued without abating, the broad
-river, which usually flowed peacefully along far below the railroad
-embankment, rose foot by foot until the whole stretch of embankment
-along the river’s edge was threatened. Long trains of flat cars were
-hurried to the place, loaded with rock and bags of sand. These were
-dumped along the embankment, which was washing badly in places, and
-for a time it looked as though the encroachments of the water had
-been stopped. But the rain continued, and the river kept on rising,
-until it was seeping along the top of the embankment. If it once
-began to flow over it, nothing could save the track, for the water
-would slice away the earth beneath it in great sections.
-
-All the men that could be spared from the other portions of the road
-had been hurried to the scene. At the gravel-pit just below the
-city, a gang of fifty men was working, filling heavy sacks and
-loading them on flat cars. A great steam-shovel was heaping the
-loose gravel upon other cars, and, as soon as enough were loaded to
-make a train, they were hurried away to the danger point. During
-that culminating day, no effort was made to preserve the train
-schedule. The work-trains were given the right of way, and even the
-lordly east-bound passengers had to flag through from the embankment
-to the gravel-pit. Train-master and superintendent were on the spot,
-directing where the gravel should be dumped, and watching anxiously
-the gauge which marked the rise of the water. Another inch and it
-would be over the embankment.
-
-But from the last inspection of the gauge Mr. Schofield arose with a
-shout of triumph.
-
-“It’s no higher than it was half an hour ago,” he said. “It hasn’t
-risen a hair’s breadth. It’ll begin to fall before long. We’re all
-right if we can only make the embankment hold.”
-
-Hope put new life into the men, and they worked like beavers; but
-whether the embankment could withstand much longer the tremendous
-pressure of the water against it seemed exceedingly doubtful. The
-whole length of the river seemed to be concentrating its strength to
-push against this one spot. Allan, as he paused to look up the muddy
-current, almost imagined that the water was rushing toward the
-embankment with the deliberate purpose of overwhelming it. The
-débris which the broad current hurried along told of the damage it
-was doing in other places. Lordly trees had been uprooted,
-outbuildings carried away, stock drowned, fertile bottom land
-covered with gravel and rendered worthless,—but all this seemed
-trivial to the boy beside the danger which threatened the road. He
-could guess how long it would take to rebuild this great stretch of
-embankment, should it be swept away. For weeks and months, the
-system must lay powerless, lifeless, disrupted.
-
-Mr. Schofield bent over the gauge again and looked at it.
-
-“She’s going down, boys!” he cried, rising with beaming face. “She’s
-gone down half an inch. We’re going to win this fight!”
-
-But how slowly the water receded! It seemed to Allan, at times, that
-it was rising again; but the crest of the flood had passed, and by
-the next day the danger was quite over. The embankment had to be
-rebuilt where it had been badly washed; and it was rebuilt more
-strongly than ever, and guarded by a wall of riprap, but never for
-an hour was the traffic of the road interrupted.
-
-So October passed and November came. Always there was the track
-demanding attention,—an endless round of work which would never be
-completed. Always there were the trains rushing over it in endless
-procession,—the luxurious Limited, sending every other train
-headlong into a siding out of the way; the slower “accommodation,”
-which stops at every station along the road and is very popular with
-the farmers and dwellers at crossroads; the big through freight,
-drawn by a mighty giant of an engine, hauling two thousand tons of
-grain or beef or coal to the great Eastern market.
-
-And the through freight is the greatest of them all, for it is the
-money-maker. The Limited, glittering with polished brass and rare
-woods and plate-glass, is for show,—for style. It makes the road a
-reputation. It figures always in the advertisements in big type and
-on the back of folder and time-table in gorgeous lithograph. Its
-passengers look out with aversion at the dingy, ugly freight,
-standing on the siding, waiting for it to pass. But it is the
-freight that is meat and drink to the road; it enables it to keep
-out of the receiver’s hands, and sometimes even to pay dividends.
-
-For Allan, the days passed happily, for one serious cloud was lifted
-from his life. Dan Nolan had disappeared. He had not been seen for
-weeks, and every one hoped that he would never be seen in that
-neighbourhood again. Jack had taken good care to spread the story of
-the fallen rock, and Nolan was wise to keep out of the trainmen’s
-way.
-
-“He thinks I saw him that day,” remarked the foreman, “an’ he’s
-afeard of a term in th’ penitentiary. Well, he’ll git it; if not
-here, somewheres else.”
-
-One trouble still remained, for Reddy showed no sign of improvement.
-His aversion to all his old friends seemed rather to increase, and
-he would wander away for days at a time. With this development of
-vagrant habits, he fell naturally in with other vagrants; played
-cards with them under the big coal-chute, rode with them in empty
-box-cars,—in a word, degenerated utterly from the happy, industrious
-Reddy of other days. Still, he showed no disposition to harm any
-one, so his friends deemed it best to let him go his way, hoping
-against hope that time might work a cure. His wife had been given
-the position of janitress of the depot building, and so provided for
-the family.
-
-Physically, Allan had never been in such splendid condition.
-Constant work in the open air had hardened his muscles and tanned
-his face; he was lean and hard, his eyes clear, his nerves steady.
-He was always ready for his bed at night, and always ready for his
-work in the morning. He felt within himself an abounding health and
-vitality, that brought him near to nature, and made him love her
-great winds and tempests. The only things he missed were the books
-to which he had always been accustomed. He was usually too tired in
-the evening to do more than read the newspaper; but he was gaining
-for himself a first-hand experience of life more valuable than any
-reflection of it he could have caught from the printed page. The
-foundations of his education had been well laid; now he was laying
-the foundations of experience. Somehow, for the time being, books
-seemed to him strangely useless and artificial. He was drinking deep
-of life itself.
-
-And as the days passed, Allan grew to know the trainmen better. He
-was admitted to the freemasonry of their fellowship, and sat with
-them often in the evenings at roundhouse or yardmaster’s office,
-listening to their yarns, which had a strange fascination for him.
-It was at the roundhouse that engineers and firemen met, summoned by
-the caller to take their engines out; at the yardmaster’s office,
-conductors and brakemen reported. And the boy found all of them
-alike prepared for what might befall, ready, instinctively, without
-second thought, to risk their lives to save the company’s property
-or to protect the passengers entrusted to their care.
-
-A great admiration for these men grew into his heart. They were like
-soldiers, ready at a moment’s notice to advance under fire,—only
-here there was not the wild exhilaration of battle, of charge and
-sortie, but only a long, cold looking of danger in the face.
-
-Even the humblest of them had his heroisms, as the boy found out one
-night; for, surely, none was humbler than Bill Griffith, the lame
-crossing-flag-man. It was at the roundhouse one evening that Allan
-chanced to ask how Bill lost his leg. “Tookey” Morton—the oldest
-engineer on the road—who had just come in to report, turned around
-at the question.
-
-“He’s lost both legs, my boy,” he said. “He’s wood on both sides
-from the knee down, only you can’t see it because his pant-legs hide
-it. Ten years ago, Bill was one of the best engineers on this road.
-He had the old Ninety-six,—you remember her, boys,—one of them old
-passenger-engines, built too light for the business. Well, one night
-Bill was spinnin’ down the grade at Loveland when the side-rod on
-his side broke, and in about half a second had whipped the cab to
-pieces and smashed both Bill’s legs. His fireman, who was green,
-jumped at the first crash; so what did Bill do but get up on the
-stumps of his legs and walk to the throttle and shut her off. They
-found him layin’ on what was left of the deck, and thought he was
-dead. But he pulled through, and was given that billet at the
-crossin’. And there ain’t a man, woman, or child has been hurt there
-since he’s had it.”
-
-The section-men were soon to have their hours of danger, too, for
-the road was falling among troublesome times. The first wind of it
-came in an order to all employés issued from general headquarters.
-
-Jack stuck a copy of it on the order-hook on the wall of the
-section-shanty, and then read it over again with a very dark face.
-Thus it ran:
-
- “NOTICE TO EMPLOYÉS, ALL DEPARTMENTS
-
- “The police department of this road has just been
- reorganized, and all employés are hereby directed to aid
- it in every possible way in keeping all trains, freight
- and passenger, free from tramps. This nuisance has grown
- to such proportions that it must be checked. Trainmen
- discovered permitting tramps to ride on their trains
- will be summarily discharged. Section-men will see that
- no fires are built by tramps on the right of way, and
- that they do not linger on railroad property.
-
- “[Signed] A. G. Round,
- “Supt. and Gen. Manager.
-
- _“Cincinnati, Ohio, November 14.”_
-
-“That means trouble,” said Jack, “if they try t’ carry it out,” and
-turned away to his work without further comment.
-
-But that night in the yardmaster’s office Allan heard the order
-discussed with freedom and much emphasis.
-
-“We can’t deny,” said one man, “that th’ hoboes have been robbin’
-th’ road right an’ left, but what kin we do? Try t’ put ’em off an’
-git a bullet through us or a knife in us?”
-
-“It’s put ’em off or git fired,” remarked another, grimly.
-
-“The road couldn’t stand it any longer,” remarked the yardmaster.
-“Car after car has come into the yards here broken open and any
-amount of stuff missing. It’s been costing the road a pretty figure
-to straighten things out with the shippers.”
-
-“The tramps get in out here at the heavy grade just east of Byers,”
-remarked a conductor. “Those fool despatchers load us up so heavy
-that we can’t make more than six or eight miles an hour up that
-grade,—sometimes we stick and have to double over. Well, the tramps
-lay for us there every night, and, while we’re crawling along, or
-maybe cutting the train in two to double, they pick out a likely
-looking car of merchandise, break it open, hunt around inside, and
-throw off what they want, and then drop off themselves. We don’t
-even know the seals are broken until we get into the yards here.”
-
-“There’s a dozen other places on the road just as bad,” said the
-yardmaster.
-
-“But how’s a feller t’ know what’s goin’ on inside a car?” queried a
-brakeman, sarcastically. “That’s what I’d like to be told.”
-
-“Well,” retorted the yardmaster, “I guess the superintendent will
-tell you quick enough, if he ever gets you on the carpet.”
-
-The brakeman snorted skeptically.
-
-“I dunno,” he said. “I guess th’ whole thing’s jest a bluff,
-anyway.”
-
-But trainmen and tramps alike soon found out that the management of
-the road was in deadly earnest. The force of police had been
-strongly reinforced. Tramps were summarily thrown off the trains.
-When they showed fight, as they often did at first, they were
-promptly arrested, arraigned before the nearest police justice, and
-given a term in the workhouse.
-
-To be sure, all this was not accomplished without some cost. One
-detective was shot through the head and killed, and many others had
-escapes more or less narrow, but the tramps soon lost their
-boldness. They no longer broke open freight-cars at will and helped
-themselves to their contents, or rode from place to place as their
-fancy dictated. But they took their revenge in other ways.
-
-One night an extra west-bound freight ran through an open switch at
-Greenfield and crashed into the freight-house. An investigation
-showed that the switch-lock had been broken, and the switch thrown.
-A night watchman on Section Twenty-eight found a big pile of ties on
-the track, and stopped another freight just in time to prevent a
-wreck.
-
-Ugly rumours were flying about of the tramps’ intentions, and it was
-at this juncture that another order came from headquarters. It ran:
-
- “NOTICE TO SECTION-FOREMEN
-
- “All section-foremen, until further orders, will divide
- their gangs into tricks, and have one man constantly on
- duty patrolling the track from end to end of their
- section. All sections must be gone over not less than
- once every three hours, and special vigilance is
- required at night. The road relies upon its section-men
- to see that this work is faithfully done. Double time
- will be allowed for this extra duty. To go into effect
- at once.
-
- “[Signed] A. G. Round,
- “Supt. and Gen. Manager.
-
- _“Cincinnati, Ohio, November 30.”_
-
-And simultaneously the road’s police force was augmented by a dozen
-special detectives. The management was determined to prove that it
-could protect its property. Besides, the other roads of the country
-were looking on with much interest to see what the result of this
-struggle would be, for the tramp nuisance was rampant everywhere.
-
-For a time, it seemed that these precautions had been effective.
-There were no more robberies reported, and few tramps attempted to
-steal rides. To be sure, the station at Madeira caught fire one
-night and burned to the ground, but there was no proof of
-incendiarism. Still the road did not relax its vigilance.
-Threatening rumours came to it from the underworld. The detectives,
-assuming tramp garb and fraternizing with the “hoboes,” became aware
-of something sinister in the air, but could never quite fathom the
-mystery. They were sure of only one thing—something was going to
-happen.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XIV.
-
- ALLAN MAKES A DISCOVERY
-
-
-During all this time, Allan had been taking his trick of
-track-walking with the other men on Section Twenty-one. Jack had
-arranged it so that the boy’s trip over the road was made in the
-early morning, from four o’clock to seven, when, in his opinion,
-there was the minimum of danger. For Jack still feared Dan Nolan,
-although that rascal had not been seen in the neighbourhood for
-months. But Jack had an uneasy feeling that Nolan was still plotting
-mischief, that he was still watching his opportunity to do Allan an
-injury.
-
-The boy himself, confident in his growing manhood, laughed at these
-fears.
-
-“Nolan has cleared out for good,” he said to Jack. “He’s gone
-somewhere where he’s not known, and has got another job. We’ll never
-see him again.”
-
-But Jack shook his head stubbornly.
-
-“I know better,” he said. “Mebbe he’s gone away for awhile, but
-he’ll come back ag’in, an’, if he ever gits a good chance t’ hit y’
-from behind, he’ll take it. I’ve got a sort of idee that Nolan’s at
-th’ bottom of most of th’ devilment that’s been goin’ on on this
-here road. Th’ tramps would ’a’ cleared out long ago if there hadn’t
-been somebody back of them urgin’ ’em on.”
-
-“Oh, come, Jack,” protested Allan, “you’ve let that idea get such a
-hold on you that you can’t shake it off.”
-
-“Anyway,” said Jack, “I want you t’ keep your eyes about you when
-you’re out there by yourself. An’ you’re t’ carry that club I made
-fer you, an’ t’ use it, too, if Nolan ever comes near enough for you
-t’ git a good lick at him.”
-
-Allan laughed again, but he carried the club with him, nevertheless,
-more to quiet Jack’s fears and Mary’s than because he thought he
-would ever need it. Jack had gone down to the carpenter shop the
-first day the order to patrol the track was posted, and had selected
-a piece of seasoned hickory, which he had fashioned into an
-effective weapon. Most of the other section-men were similarly
-armed, and were prepared to meet force with force.
-
-But Jack’s fears were to be verified in an unexpected way a few days
-later. One of the detectives employed by the road had succeeded in
-disguising himself as a tramp so effectively that he was admitted to
-their councils, and one night a force of men was gathered at
-headquarters for an expedition of which none of them knew the
-destination. It happened to be Jack’s trick, and, when he reported
-for duty, the train-master called him to one side.
-
-“Welsh,” he said, “we’re going on a little expedition to-night which
-promises some fun. I thought maybe you’d like that boy of yours to
-go along,—you seem to want to get him in on everything going.”
-
-“What is it, Mister Schofield?” Jack asked. “Anything dangerous?”
-
-“No,” answered the train-master, “I don’t think there’ll be any real
-danger, but there may be some excitement. I want you to go and you’d
-better bring the boy.”
-
-“All right, sir,” said Jack, resolving, however, to keep the boy
-close to himself.
-
-A caller was sent after Allan, who appeared at the end of a few
-minutes, his eyes big with excitement.
-
-“What is it?” he asked, as he saw the men grouped together, talking
-in low tones. “Another wreck?”
-
-“No,” said Jack; “it ain’t a wreck. I don’t know what it is. It’s
-got something t’ do with th’ tramps, I think. Mebbe you’d better not
-go.”
-
-“Of course I’ll go,” protested the boy. “I wouldn’t miss it for
-anything.”
-
-A moment later the men, of whom there were twenty, were divided into
-parties of four each, and each man was given a short, stout
-policeman’s club loaded with lead at the end.
-
-“Now, boys,” said the train-master, after the clubs had been
-distributed, “I want you to remember that it’s an easy thing to kill
-a man with one of those clubs, so don’t strike too hard if we get
-into a row. Only, of course, don’t hesitate to defend yourselves.
-Now I guess we’re ready to start.”
-
-Each party was placed in charge of one of the road’s detectives, and
-left the yards by a different route. The night was very dark, with
-black clouds rolling overhead and sending down a spatter of rain now
-and then, so that the men could scarcely see each other as they
-walked along. The party that Jack and Allan were with followed the
-railroad track as far as the river-bank; then they turned aside,
-crossed the long bridge which spanned the river, and pushed their
-way along a path which led to the right along the opposite bank.
-
-It was anything but easy walking, for the path was a narrow and
-uneven one, nearly overgrown by the rank underbrush along the river,
-so that they had to proceed in single file, the detective in the
-lead, stumbling over rocks, stepping into mudholes, with branches
-slapping them in the faces, and briars catching at their clothing.
-At last they came out upon an open field, which they crossed. Beyond
-the field was a road, which they followed for half a mile or more,
-then they struck off along another path through an open hickory
-wood, and finally halted for breath at the base of a high hill.
-
-In a few moments, the other parties came up, panting and
-mud-bespattered, and the detectives and Mr. Schofield drew apart for
-a little consultation.
-
-“Now, boys,” said Mr. Schofield, in a low voice, when the
-consultation was over, “I’ll tell you what we’re after so that
-you’ll know what to expect. One of our men here has discovered up on
-this hill the place where the ringleaders among the tramps make
-their headquarters. If we can capture these ringleaders, all our
-troubles with the tramps will be over. We’re going to surround the
-place, and we want to capture every one of them. We must creep up on
-them as quietly as we can, and then a pistol-shot will be the signal
-for a rush. And, remember, we don’t want any of them to get away!”
-
-A little murmur ran through the crowd, and they gripped their clubs
-tighter. Jack was glad that they had not been given revolvers,—in
-the darkness and confusion, such weapons would be more dangerous to
-friend than foe.
-
-They started cautiously up the hill, advancing slowly and painfully,
-for there was now no vestige of a path. The uneven ground and
-tangled undergrowth made progress very difficult, but they gradually
-worked their way upward until they came to the edge of a little
-clearing. Against a cliff of rock at one side a rude hut was built.
-There was no window, but, through the chinks in the logs, they could
-see that there was a light within. The men were spread out along the
-edge of the clearing, and waited breathlessly for the signal to
-advance.
-
-The pistol-shot rang out, clear and sharp in the night air, and,
-even as the men sprang forward, the door of the hut was thrown open
-and a man’s figure appeared silhouetted against the light. He stood
-an instant listening to the rush of advancing footsteps, then
-slammed the door shut, and in a breath the hut was in darkness.
-
-But that single instant was enough for both Allan and Jack Welsh to
-recognize the man.
-
-It was Dan Nolan!
-
-In another second, they were hammering at the door, but they found
-it strongly barred, and three or four minutes elapsed—minutes that
-seemed like centuries—before they got the door down and rushed over
-the threshold into the hut. One of the detectives opened his dark
-lantern and flashed a brilliant band of light about the place, while
-the men stared in astonishment.
-
-For the hut was empty!
-
-They lighted the lamp which stood on a box in one corner and made a
-more careful examination of the place. Two or three boxes, an old
-stove, a few cooking utensils, and a rude cot in one corner
-comprised all the furniture, and one of the detectives, pulling
-aside the largest box, which stood against the back of the hut,
-solved the mystery of Nolan’s disappearance.
-
-A passage had been dug in the bank which formed the back of the hut,
-and the detective, after flashing his dark lantern within, crawled
-into it without hesitation. In a few moments, they heard the sound
-of steps outside, and the detective came in again at the door.
-
-“He’s got clear away,” he said; “as well as all the rest who were
-with him. That tunnel leads off to the left and comes out the other
-side of this bank.”
-
-Mr. Schofield’s face showed his disappointment.
-
-“It’s too bad,” he said, “that we didn’t know about that tunnel.
-Then we could have placed a guard at the other end.”
-
-“There were precious few knew about it,” said the detective who had
-discovered the place. “I’ve been here half a dozen times, and never
-suspected its existence.”
-
-“Well,” said the train-master, “the only thing we can do is to go
-home, I guess. We can’t hope to find a man in these woods on a night
-like this.”
-
-“You knowed that feller who opened th’ door, didn’t you, Mister
-Schofield?” questioned Jack, as they left the hut.
-
-“No,” said Mr. Schofield, quickly. “Did you?”
-
-“Yes,” replied Jack, quietly; “it was Dan Nolan.”
-
-“Dan Nolan!” repeated the train-master, incredulously. “Are you
-sure?”
-
-“Allan here knowed him, too,” said Jack. “It’s what I’ve been
-thinkin’ all along, that Nolan was at th’ bottom of all this
-mischief. He’s got t’ be a kind o’ king o’ th’ tramps, I guess.”
-
-“Perhaps you’re right,” agreed Mr. Schofield. “I’ll put our
-detectives on his trail. Maybe they can run him down, if he hasn’t
-been scared away by his narrow escape to-night.”
-
-“He’ll shift his headquarters,” said Jack, “but I don’t believe
-he’ll be scared away—not till he gits what he’s after, anyway.”
-
-“And what is that?” questioned the train-master.
-
-“He’s after Allan there,” said Jack, in a lower tone. “An’ he’ll git
-him yet, I’m afraid.”
-
-“Well, we’ll make it hot for him around here,” said Mr. Schofield,
-and went forward to impart this information to the detectives.
-
-All of the men were completely tired out by the long night tramp, as
-well as chagrined over their ill success, but Allan was up again as
-usual next morning and started off upon his tramp along the track.
-
-“Now, be careful of yourself, darlint,” Mary cautioned him, as she
-saw him off, and Allan promised to be especially alert.
-
-There could be no doubt that it was Dan Nolan they had seen at the
-door of the hut the night before, but Allan only half-believed that
-Nolan still preserved his enmity toward him. Certainly, he decided,
-it was not worth worrying about,—worrying never did any good. He
-would be ready to meet danger as it came, but he greatly doubted if
-it would ever come, at least, to himself personally.
-
-He had grown to like this duty of patrolling the track. It had been
-a pleasant duty, and an uneventful one, for at no time had he found
-anything wrong, or met with unpleasant adventure of any kind. But
-those long walks through the fresh, cold air, with the dawn just
-tingeing the east, opened a new world to the boy. It was no longer
-the hot, dusty, work-a-day world of labour, but a sweet, cool, clean
-world, where joy dwelt and where a man might grow. He heard the
-birds greet the sunrise with never-failing joy; he heard the cattle
-lowing in the fields; even the river beside the road seemed to dance
-with new life, as the sun’s rays sought it out and gilded its every
-ripple. It was not a long walk—three miles out and three back—and
-what an appetite for breakfast it gave him! Even these few months
-had wrought a great change in him. He was browned by the sun and
-hardened by toil, as has been said already; but the change was
-greater than that. It was mental as well as physical. He had grown
-older, and his face had gained the self-reliant look of the man who
-is making his own way in the world and who is sure of himself.
-
-Despite all this extra work, Section Twenty-one was kept in perfect
-condition, and the train-master noted it, as he noted everything
-else about the road.
-
-“You’re doing good work, Welsh,” he said to Jack one day, when he
-chanced to meet him in the yards.
-
-“I’ve got a good gang,” answered the foreman, proudly. “There’s one
-o’ my men that’s too good fer section work. He ort t’ have a better
-job, Mr. Schofield; one, anyway, where ther’s a chance fer
-permotion—in th’ offices.”
-
-“Yes?” and the official smiled good-naturedly. “I think I know who
-you mean. I’ll keep him in mind, for we always need good men. This
-extra work will soon be over, though. As soon as cold weather sets
-in, the hoboes will strike for the South, and I don’t believe
-they’ll ever trouble us again.”
-
-“Mebbe not,” agreed Jack, dubiously. “But I’d be mighty glad to hear
-that Dan Nolan was locked up safe somewhere. You haven’t found any
-trace of him?”
-
-“No. He seems to have disappeared completely. I believe he’s scared
-out, and cold weather will rid us of all the rest.”
-
-“Mebbe so,” said Jack; “mebbe so. Anyway, I wish cold weather’d
-hurry up an’ come.”
-
-But it seemed in no haste about coming. December opened bright and
-warm, and two weeks slipped by. Although it was evident that the
-tramps were becoming less numerous, and the management of the road
-began to breathe more freely, still the head of the police
-department did not relax his caution. He had his ear to the ground,
-and, from that hidden, subterranean region of trampdom, he still
-heard vague and uncertain, but no less threatening, rumblings.
-
-It was clear that the battle was not yet won, for the petty
-annoyances continued, though in an ever lessening degree, and even
-in the yards the tramps or their sympathizers managed to do much
-harm. A freight-train would be standing in the yards, ready for its
-trip east or west; the conductor would give the signal to start, the
-engineer would open his throttle, and instantly it would be
-discovered that some one had drawn all the coupling-pins; but,
-before the engineer could stop his engine, he had torn out all the
-air-hose on the train. Or, perhaps, the train would start all right,
-but, in the course of half an hour, the fireman would discover he
-could not keep the steam up, no matter how hot his fire was; the
-pressure would fall and fall until the train would be stalled out on
-the road, and an investigation would disclose the fact that some one
-had thrown a lot of soap into the tank. Then the whole system would
-be tied up until another engine could be sent to the rescue to push
-the train into the nearest siding. Or, perhaps, the train would be
-bowling along merrily until, of a sudden, the well-trained noses of
-conductor and brakemen would detect the odour of a hot box. The
-train would be stopped, and it would soon be found that some one had
-removed the packing from the boxes.
-
-All of these things were provoking enough, especially since it was
-evident that in almost every case the mischief had been done in the
-yards under the very noses of the trainmen, although no tramps had
-been seen there. Indeed, the trainmen, after wrestling with such
-annoyances for a time, came to be of a temper that made it
-exceedingly dangerous for a tramp to be found anywhere near railroad
-property. Yet the annoyances went on, and became gradually of a more
-serious nature. One night a brakeman found the main switch at the
-east end of the yards spiked, and it was only by a hair’s breadth
-that a serious collision was avoided. But the climax came one
-morning when Bill Morrison, on the crack engine of the road, found
-that some one had put sand in his boxes, and that the journals were
-ground off and ruined.
-
-A rigid investigation was ordered at once, but no clue to the
-perpetrator of the mischief was discovered. Yet it seemed certain
-that it could not have been done by a tramp. No tramp had been in
-the yards—the yard-men were sure of that—and the officials were
-forced to the unwelcome conclusion that some one whom they did not
-suspect—some one who was permitted to enter the yards—some one
-connected with the road, perhaps—was guilty. It was a disquieting
-thought, for there was no telling what might happen next.
-
-And then, one morning, Allan solved the mystery. It was a little
-after four o’clock and still quite dark as he passed through the
-yards to start on his morning walk. A freight-train stood ready to
-start east, with its great mogul of an engine puffing and blowing
-with impatience. Just as Allan passed it, he saw a figure emerge
-from underneath it. He thought at first it was the engineer, but,
-instead of mounting to the cab, the figure slunk away into the
-darkness, carefully avoiding the glare of the headlight. Then the
-boy saw the conductor and engineer standing, with heads together, a
-little distance away, reading their orders by the light of the
-conductor’s lantern. He ran toward them.
-
-“Mr. Spurling,” he said to the engineer, “I just saw a man come out
-from under your engine.”
-
-“You did!” and engineer and conductor, with compressed lips, hurried
-back to where the engine stood. The former flashed his torch
-underneath, and then straightened up with a very grim face.
-
-“Look at that link-motion,” he said, and the conductor stooped and
-looked. Then he, too, straightened up.
-
-“It’s a good thing we didn’t get started,” he said. “I’ll go and
-report it. It’s lucky for us you saw that scoundrel, my boy,” he
-added, as he hurried away, and the engineer clapped Allan on the
-shoulder.
-
-“Mighty lucky,” he said. “It’s a good thing there’s one man around
-here who keeps his eyes open.”
-
-But Allan, as he started away at last upon his six-mile tramp, knew
-not whether to be glad or sorry. If only some one else had passed
-the engine at that moment instead of him. For, as that crouching
-figure slunk away through the darkness, he had recognized it!
-
-So he had a battle to fight on that six-mile tramp; but it was
-fought and won long before the walk was ended. And when, at last, he
-got back to the yards, instead of turning away toward home, he
-mounted the stairs to the train-master’s office. That official was
-busy, as always, with a great pile of correspondence, but he looked
-up and nodded pleasantly as Allan entered.
-
-“Good morning, West,” he said. “Want to speak to me?”
-
-“Yes, Mr. Schofield,” answered Allan. “This morning, as I was
-starting out on my trick, I saw a man come out from under Mr.
-Spurling’s engine.”
-
-The train-master nodded.
-
-“Yes,” he said, “I’ve got a report of it here. I’m mighty glad you
-happened to come along just when you did, and had your eyes about
-you.”
-
-“I’d much rather it had been somebody else,” said Allan, “for I knew
-the man, and I think it’s my duty to tell you.”
-
-The train-master looked at him keenly.
-
-“You knew him?” he repeated. “Better and better. No doubt he’s the
-one who’s been giving us all this trouble. Who was he?”
-
-Allan gulped down a lump which had arisen suddenly in his throat.
-
-“Reddy Magraw,” he answered, hoarsely.
-
-“Reddy Magraw!” echoed the train-master, with a stare of
-astonishment. “Are you sure?”
-
-“I wouldn’t say so if I wasn’t sure, sir,” answered Allan, with a
-little flush of resentment. “I couldn’t be mistaken.”
-
-“Of course,” agreed the train-master, kindly. “But I didn’t think
-Reddy would do anything like that.”
-
-“I don’t believe he would have done it, sir,” said Allan, “if Dan
-Nolan hadn’t got hold of him,” and he told of the conference he and
-Jack had witnessed on the river-bank. “I believe Dan put all this
-meanness into his head,” he concluded. “I’m sure it’s with Dan he
-stays all the time he’s away from home.”
-
-Mr. Schofield nodded again.
-
-“No doubt you are right,” he assented. “Perhaps we ought to have
-suspected him before. Of course, the boys never thought of watching
-him, and so let him stay around the yards as much as he wanted to.
-But we’ll have to protect ourselves. This sort of thing can’t go
-on.”
-
-“You mean Reddy will have to be arrested?” questioned Allan, with
-sinking heart.
-
-“No,” and the train-master smiled at his anxious face. “I’ll file an
-affidavit of lunacy against Reddy before the probate judge, and
-we’ll have him sent to the asylum at Athens. He’ll be well taken
-care of there, and maybe will get well again much sooner than he
-would at home. He’s not getting any better here, that’s certain; and
-he’s caused us a lot of trouble. Besides, he’s only a burden to his
-wife.”
-
-“Oh, she never thinks of that,” said Allan, quickly. “It’s his
-staying away that hurts her.”
-
-“Yes,” agreed Mr. Schofield, “I know. I’ve talked with her. She’s
-like all the rest of these big-hearted Irish women,—ready to work
-herself to death for the people she loves. Though,” he added,
-“that’s a characteristic of nearly all women.”
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XV.
-
- A SHOT FROM BEHIND
-
-
-Mr. Schofield filed his affidavit before the probate judge without
-delay, but, when the officer of the court went to look for Reddy, he
-was nowhere to be found. From his wife it was learned that he had
-not been home for two days, nor was he to be discovered in any of
-his accustomed haunts around the yards or in the shops, and the
-quest for him was finally given up in despair. Allan concluded that
-Reddy had recognized him that morning, as he came out from under the
-engine which he had tampered with, and knew that he was found out at
-last; but, whether this was the case, or whether he had got wind of
-the proceedings against him in some other way, certain it is that
-Reddy disappeared from Wadsworth, and nothing more was seen of him
-there for many days.
-
-Word was quietly passed around among the trainmen to be on the watch
-for him, as he was probably the one who had recently caused the road
-so much annoyance; and this came to be pretty well proved in time,
-for, with Reddy’s disappearance, the annoyances ceased, in so far,
-at least, as they originated in the yards at Wadsworth. Out on the
-line, indeed, they still continued,—switches were spiked,
-fish-plates were loosened,—and then, of a sudden, even these ceased,
-and everything ran as smoothly as in the old days. But this very
-quiet alarmed the chief of detectives more than anything else had
-done, for he believed it was the calm preceding a storm, and he
-redoubled his precautions. Some of the officers were rather inclined
-to laugh at his fears, but not the superintendent.
-
-“You are right, Preston,” he said to the chief. “There’s something
-in the wind. We’ll look sharp till after the pay-car gets here,
-anyway. After that, if nothing happens, we can let up a bit.”
-
-“When will the pay-car get here?” questioned Preston.
-
-“I don’t know yet; probably the night of the twenty-fourth.”
-
-“You’d better order a double guard with it, sir,” suggested the
-detective.
-
-“I will,” assented the superintendent. “More than that, Mr.
-Schofield and I will accompany it. If there’s any excitement, we
-want to be there to see it.”
-
-The detective nodded and went away, while the superintendent turned
-back to his desk. It had occurred to him some days before that an
-attempt to hold up the pay-car might be the culminating point of the
-series of outrages under which the road was suffering, and the more
-he had thought of it the more likely it appeared. The pay-car would
-be a rich prize, and any gang of men who could get away with its
-contents would be placed beyond the need of working, begging, or
-stealing for a long time to come. The pay-car, which always started
-from general headquarters at Cincinnati, went over the road, from
-one end to the other, every month, carrying with it the money with
-which the employés of the road were paid. To Wadsworth alone it
-brought monthly nearly two hundred thousand dollars, for Wadsworth
-was division headquarters. Nearly all the trainmen employed on the
-division lived there, and besides, there were the hundreds of men
-who laboured in the division shops. Yes, the pay-car would be a rich
-prize, and, as the money it carried was all in small denominations,
-it would be impossible to trace it, once the robbers got safely away
-with it.
-
-Let it be said in passing that on most roads the pay-car is now a
-thing of the past. Payment is now usually made by checks, which are
-sent out in registered packages from general headquarters, and
-distributed by the division officials. This method is safe and
-eminently satisfactory to the road, but some of the employés object
-occasionally because of the difficulty they sometimes experience in
-getting their checks cashed immediately.
-
-The road had never suffered any attack upon its pay-car, primarily,
-no doubt, because it was well-known that there were always half a
-dozen well-armed men with it, who would not hesitate to use their
-weapons. In fact, every man, as he stood at the little grated
-cashier’s window, waiting for his money, could see the row of rifles
-in the rack against the wall and the brace of pistols lying upon the
-desk, ready to the cashier’s hand. Besides, even if the car were
-broken into and the money secured, the difficulty of getting away
-safely with the booty was enormous. The road, for the most part, ran
-through a thickly settled country, and the moment the alarm was
-given, posses could be set in motion and the wires set humming in
-every direction, in the effort to run the robbers down. So, with
-whatever hungry greed would-be highwaymen had eyed the piles of
-bills and gold visible through the little grated window, none of
-them had ever dared to make a forcible attempt to gain possession of
-them.
-
-Perhaps no one would dare attempt it now, thought the
-superintendent; perhaps he had been merely alarming himself without
-cause. At least, the most effective defensive measure would be to
-keep secret the hour of the pay-car’s arrival. If no one knew
-exactly when to look for it, no attempt could be made to hold it up.
-Such an attempt, at the best, would be foolhardy, and the
-superintendent turned back to his work with a little sigh of relief
-at the thought. In a few moments, immersed in the pile of
-correspondence before him, he had quite forgotten his uneasiness.
-
-Certainly, as day after day went smoothly by, there seemed less and
-less cause for apprehension. The tramps were evidently making
-southward, like the birds, before the approach of winter. And
-nothing more was seen of Dan Nolan. A watch had been kept upon the
-hut on the hillside, but he had not returned there, so the hut was
-finally demolished and the tunnel in the cliff closed up. Every
-effort had been made to discover his whereabouts, but in vain. The
-detectives of the road declared that he was nowhere in the
-neighbourhood; but Jack Welsh was, as always, skeptical.
-
-Just east of Wadsworth, beyond the river, the country rose into a
-series of hills, sparsely settled and for the most part covered by
-virgin forest. These hills extended for many miles to the eastward,
-and among them, Jack told himself, Nolan could easily find a secure
-hiding-place for himself and half a dozen men.
-
-“An’ that’s jest where he is,” said Jack to Allan one evening, when
-they were talking the matter over. “That’s jest what Nolan’d love t’
-do—put hisself at th’ head of a gang o’ bandits. He was allers
-talkin’ about highwaymen an’ train-robbers an’ desperadoes when he
-was on th’ gang; but we only laughed at him then. Now, I see it
-would have been a good thing if I’d ’a’ taken a stout stick an’ beat
-that foolishness out o’ him.”
-
-“But Reddy,” said Allan; “where’s Reddy?”
-
-“Reddy’s with him,” answered Jack, decidedly. “An’ there’s no
-tellin’ what scrape that reptile’ll git him into. I dare say, Reddy
-thinks Nolan’s his best friend. That’d be natural enough, since he’s
-got to thinkin’ that all his old friends are his worst enemies.”
-
-“If we could only find him!” said Allan, wistfully “and bring him
-home again. The poor fellow will never get well if he’s left to
-wander about like that.”
-
-But there seemed no way of finding him. Allan was the last person
-who had seen him. That was at the moment, in the early morning, when
-he had slunk away from under the engine. Some warning of the search
-for him must certainly have reached him, for he had never again
-appeared at home. His wife, nearly heart-broken by the suspense,
-imagining him suffering all sorts of hardships, yet went about her
-work with a calm persistence which concealed in some degree the
-tumult which raged within her. The children must be fed and cared
-for, and she permitted nothing to stand between her and that duty.
-The division offices had never been so clean as they were since Mrs.
-Magraw had taken charge of them.
-
-A day or two later, Allan fancied he saw something which proved the
-truth of Jack’s theory. It was one morning as he was returning from
-his regular trip that he reached the embankment along the river and
-glanced over at the willows on the farther side, as he always did
-when he passed the place, for it was there that he and Jack had
-first seen Reddy in Nolan’s company. His heart gave a leap as he saw
-two men there. He stopped and looked at them, but the early morning
-mist rising from the river hid them so that he could discern nothing
-beyond the mere outline of their forms. He stared long and
-earnestly, until they passed behind the clump of willows and
-disappeared from sight. Something told him that it was Reddy and
-Nolan again, but he could not be sure, and at last he went slowly on
-his way. Perhaps they had a place of concealment somewhere in the
-woods that stretched eastward from the river-bank.
-
-He mentioned his suspicion to Jack, as soon as he reached home, and
-the latter was all on fire in a minute.
-
-“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” he said. “Next Sunday we’ll take a
-walk through th’ woods over there, an’ it’s jest possible we’ll run
-on to ’em. Mebbe we kin save Reddy from that rascal yet!”
-
-So, bright and early the next Sunday morning, they started out,
-taking with them a lunch, for they did not expect to return until
-evening. They crossed the river by the bridge which they had used on
-the night when they had tried to capture Nolan, and struck at once
-into the woods.
-
-“It’s like huntin’ a needle in a haystack,” said Jack, “but my idea
-is that they’ve got a hut somewheres back in th’ hollers behind this
-first range o’ hills. They’s mighty few houses back there,—nothin’
-but woods. So mebbe we’ll run on to ’em, if we have good luck.”
-
-They scrambled up the first low range of hills which looked down
-upon the broad river, and paused for a moment on the summit for a
-look about them. Beyond the river lay the level valley which, twelve
-decades before, had been one of the favourite dwelling-places of the
-red man. The woods abounded with game of every sort, and the river
-with fish, while in the fertile bottom his corn would grow to ripe
-luxuriance with little cultivation. More than one fierce battle for
-the possession of this smiling valley had been fought with the hardy
-bands of pioneers, who had pushed their way up from the Ohio, but at
-last the advancing tide of civilization swept the Indian aside, and
-the modern town of Wadsworth began to rise where formerly there had
-been no building more substantial than the hide wigwam.
-
-Jack and Allan could see the town nestling among its trees in the
-wide valley, but, when they turned about, a different view met them.
-To the eastward were no plains, no bottoms, no city, but, far as the
-eye could see, one hill rose behind another, all of them heavily
-wooded to the very summit, so steep and with a soil so gravelly that
-no one had ever attempted to cultivate them. Nor did any one dwell
-among them, save a few poverty-stricken families, who lived in
-summer by picking blackberries and in winter by digging
-sassafras-root,—a class of people so shiftless and mean and dirty
-that no respectable farmer would permit them on his place.
-
-It was the rude cabin of one of these families which Jack and Allan
-saw in the valley before them, and they determined to descend to it
-and make inquiries. There was a rough path leading downwards through
-the woods, and this they followed until they came to the edge of the
-little clearing which surrounded the house. They went forward to the
-door and knocked, but there was no response, and, after a moment,
-Jack pushed the door open cautiously and looked inside. As he did
-so, a shot rang out behind him, and Allan felt a sudden sting of
-pain across his cheek as a bullet sang past and embedded itself in
-the jamb of the door.
-
-“What’s that?” cried Jack, springing around, and then he saw Allan
-wiping the blood from his cheek. “What is it, lad?” he asked, his
-face paling. “You’re not hurted?”
-
-“Only a scratch,” said Allan, smiling. “Just took a little of the
-skin off.”
-
-“Come in here an’ we’ll look at it,” and Jack half-dragged him
-through the open door, which he closed and barred. “That’ll keep th’
-varmint from takin’ another shot at us,” he said. “Now let’s see the
-cheek.”
-
-But not even Jack’s anxiety could make of the wound more than a
-scratch. The bullet had cut the skin from the left cheek for nearly
-an inch, and a little cold water, which Jack found in a bucket in
-the house, soon stopped the bleeding.
-
-“Who could it have been?” asked Allan, at last.
-
-“Y’ don’t need t’ ask that, I hope,” cried Jack. “It was Dan Nolan!”
-
-“Well, he didn’t hurt me much,” said Allan, with a laugh. “He
-doesn’t seem to have very good luck.”
-
-“No,” said Jack; “but if that bullet had been an inch further to th’
-right, you wouldn’t be a-settin’ laughin’ there,” and a little
-shudder ran through him as he thought of it, and he clinched his
-hands as he imagined what his vengeance would have been.
-
-“Do you suppose Nolan lives here?” asked Allan, looking curiously
-around the room.
-
-“No,” said Jack; “they’s one o’ th’ Waymores lives here, but I
-wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he was in cahoots with Nolan. These
-people’re just as much vagabonds as them that go trampin’ about th’
-country.”
-
-Allan looked again about the squalid room, and turned a little sick
-at the thought of living in the midst of such filth and
-wretchedness.
-
-“Come, let’s get out of here,” he said. “I want some fresh air. This
-is enough to turn one’s stomach.”
-
-“I tell you,” suggested Jack, “suppose we go out th’ back door there
-an’ sneak around th’ edge of th’ clearin’. Mebbe we kin come on
-Nolan when he ain’t lookin’—and what I’ll do to him’ll be a plenty!”
-
-Allan laughed at his ferocity.
-
-“I don’t believe Nolan would stay around here,” he said. “He didn’t
-know but what there were others with us. He probably decamped as
-soon as he took that crack at me.”
-
-“Well, it won’t do any harm t’ try,” said Jack, and try they did,
-but no trace of Nolan was anywhere to be seen.
-
-They went on through the woods, eating their lunch beside a limpid
-spring which bubbled from beneath a rock in the hillside, and during
-the afternoon pushed on along the valley, but met no human beings.
-If it was indeed Nolan who fired the shot, he had taken to cover
-effectually. Allan began to doubt more and more that it had really
-been Nolan.
-
-“It might have been a hunter,” he pointed out to Jack, “who was
-shooting at something else, and did not see us at all. Such things
-happen, you know.”
-
-“Yes,” Jack admitted, “but that wasn’t what happened this time,”
-and, when they reached home again, he went straight over to the
-offices and related to Mr. Schofield the details of the morning’s
-adventures. That official promised to put two detectives on Nolan’s
-trail at once. They worked on it for two or three days, but, though
-they even employed a bloodhound in the effort to run him down, all
-their work was quite in vain. The man to whom the cabin belonged
-said he had walked over to a neighbour’s that Sunday and had been
-away from home all day. He denied all knowledge of Nolan or Reddy
-Magraw, And the search ended, as all the others had done, without
-finding a trace of either of them.
-
-So the days passed, and the work on section went on in its unvaried
-round. And even from day to day Allan felt himself changing, as his
-horizon broadened. He had become a different boy from the diffident
-youngster who had asked Jack Welsh for a job that morning a few
-short months before. Work had strengthened him and made him a man;
-he felt immeasurably older; he had gained self-confidence; he felt
-that he could look out for himself in any emergency. He was playing
-a man’s part in the world; he was earning an honest living. He had
-gained friends, and he began to feel that he had a future before
-him. He was going to make the most of every opportunity, for he was
-ambitious, as every boy ought to be. He longed to get into the
-superintendent’s office, where there would be a chance to learn
-something about the infinitely difficult work of operating the road,
-and where there would be a chance for promotion. He never spoke of
-this to Jack, for such a thought seemed almost like desertion, but
-he never passed the offices without looking longingly up at the
-network of wires and signals. Sometimes, when some duty took him
-up-stairs, he could hear the wild chatter of the instruments in the
-despatchers’ office, and he determined to try to understand their
-language.
-
-Jack came into the section-shanty one morning with a sheet of paper
-in his hand and a broad smile upon his face.
-
-“I’ve got a Christmas gift fer y’, boys,” he said, and stuck the
-notice up on the hook. They all crowded around to read it.
-
- “NOTICE TO SECTION FOREMEN
-
- “All patrolling of the tracks will cease on and after
- December 25th next. This company deeply appreciates the
- faithful service its section-men have given it, and will
- endeavour to show that appreciation by increasing the
- wages of all section-men ten per cent., to go into
- effect January 1st.
-
- “[Signed] A. G. Round,
- “Supt. and Gen. Manager.
-
- _“Cincinnati, Ohio, Dec. 18th.”_
-
-“How’s that, boys?” asked Jack. “That’s a Christmas gift worth
-havin’, ain’t it?” and he looked about from face to face, for he
-knew what that increase of twelve and a half cents a day meant to
-these men. It meant more food for the children, a new dress for the
-wife,—a little more luxury and ease in lives which were hard enough
-at best.
-
- * * * * *
-
-The weather had been cool and pleasant, but it changed as Christmas
-drew near, and the twenty-fourth was marked by a heavy storm. All
-the afternoon the rain fell in torrents, the wind blew a hurricane,
-and—something rare for December—the lightning flashed and the
-thunder rumbled savagely overhead.
-
-Work was out of the question, and, after playing awhile with Mamie,
-and telling her wonderful stories of Santa Claus and what he was
-going to bring her that night, Jack Welsh mounted to his room to get
-a few hours of much-needed rest. For his hours of patrol duty were
-from nine o’clock to midnight, and this trying extra work was
-beginning to tell upon him. With that characteristic unselfishness
-which endeared him to his men, he had chosen the worst trick for
-himself.
-
-“I’ll be mighty glad when this extry work’s over,” his wife
-remarked, as she busied herself with the dishes in the kitchen, “fer
-all it pays double. There’s no use fer a man t’ kill hisself jest t’
-make a little extry money. Jack’s purty nigh wore out;—just listen
-how he snores!”
-
-Allan looked up at her and laughed from the place on the floor where
-he was helping Mamie construct a castle out of painted blocks.
-
-“We’ll let him sleep as long as we can,” he said; and so it was not
-till nearly eight o’clock that Mamie was sent up-stairs to call him.
-They heard him get heavily out of bed, and, while he was putting on
-his clothes, Mary trimmed the lamp and stirred up the fire, in order
-that everything might be bright and warm to welcome him. And Allan,
-watching her, felt his eyes grow a little misty as he saw her loving
-thoughtfulness.
-
-“Better hurry up, Jack, dear,” she called. “You haven’t much time t’
-spare.”
-
-“Comin’, Mary, comin’,” he answered, “as soon as I git this plaguy
-boot on.”
-
-“It’s an awful night,” said his wife, as he came sleepily down the
-stair. “Do you have t’ go, Jack? Can’t y’ stay home on Christmas
-Eve?”
-
-“No, I have to go, Mary;” and he doused hands and face in a great
-basin of rain-water. “It’s th’ last time, y’ know, an’ I ain’t
-a-goin’ t’ shirk now. Maybe th’ pay-car’ll come through t’-night.
-They promised us our pay this month fer Christmas, y’ know, an’ we
-want to be sure that she gits here all right. To-morrow we’ll have a
-great time, an’ they’ll be no more patrol duty after that.”
-
-Mamie danced around the floor, for she had received mysterious hints
-from Allan of what was to happen on the morrow, and her father
-picked her up and kissed her before he sat down to the supper that
-was on the table awaiting him. He drank his coffee and ate his bacon
-and eggs with an appetite born of good digestion. Then he donned his
-great boots and rubber coat.
-
-“Now, don’t y’ worry, Mary,” he said, drawing his wife to him.
-“There won’t a drop of rain git to me in this rig. Good-bye, Mamie,”
-and he picked up the child and kissed her again. “Take good care of
-’em, Allan.”
-
-He rammed his wide leather hat down farther upon his head, made sure
-that his lantern was burning properly, took up the heavy club he
-always carried, and opened the door.
-
-“Good-bye,” he called back, and in a moment had disappeared in the
-darkness.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XVI.
-
- A CALL TO DUTY
-
-
-Allan sat down by the table and picked up a book on telegraphy which
-he had secured from the public library of Wadsworth, and which he
-was studying faithfully in such odd hours as he had to
-himself,—without much result, be it said, since he had no instrument
-to practise on,—while Mrs. Welsh put the excited Mamie to bed,
-warning her to go to sleep at once, lest she frighten Santa Claus
-away, and then went slowly about the task of clearing up the supper
-dishes and putting the house in order for the morrow.
-
-“An’ we’ll hev t’ set up th’ Christmas tree to-night,” she remarked.
-“It’ll hev t’ be ready when Mamie wakes up in th’ mornin’, an’
-she’ll wake mighty early.”
-
-“All right,” said Allan; “as soon as you’re ready, tell me.”
-
-That morning, on his way in from his trip, he had stopped to cut a
-little evergreen in a grove near the track, and this had been safely
-deposited in the cellar, out of the reach of Mamie’s curious eyes.
-Long strings of snow-white pop-corn had been threaded, streamers of
-bright-coloured tissue-paper prepared, little red and blue candles
-bought; all of which, together with the presents and parti-coloured
-candies, would make the tree in Mamie’s eyes a veritable fairy
-picture. It was her first Christmas tree, and it was to be a
-splendid one!
-
-“Now I’m ready, Allan,” said Mrs. Welsh, at last; and Allan laid
-aside his book and brought up the tree from the cellar, while Mrs.
-Welsh unlocked the closet where the ornaments and gifts had been
-carefully hidden. “We’ll set it up in that corner by th’ winder,”
-she continued; “then th’ people that goes by outside kin see it,
-too.”
-
-“I’m glad I’m going to be here when Mamie first sees it,” said
-Allan, as he nailed some cross-pieces on the bottom of the tree to
-hold it upright. “I’d be out on my trick if it hadn’t been for that
-order.”
-
-“Yes, an’ I’m glad, too,” agreed Mrs. Welsh. “That patrol work was
-hard on all o’ you. But this trip o’ Jack’s t’-night’ll be th’ last
-that any o’ th’ gang on Twenty-one has t’ make. I only wish th’
-patrollin’ had ended to-day instead o’ to-morrer, then Jack’d be
-here with us now instead of out in that howlin’ storm.”
-
-They listened a moment to the wind whistling about the house, and to
-the rain lashing savagely against the windows.
-
-“It is a bad night,” said Allan, “but Jack won’t mind it. He’ll be
-thinking of the good time he’s going to have to-morrow.”
-
-“Well, I’m glad it’s th’ last time, anyway,—fer your sake, too,
-Allan. Jack an’ me used t’ worrit ourselves nearly sick when you’d
-start out alone that way. We never knowed what’d happen.”
-
-“And nothing ever happened, after all!” laughed Allan. “I believe
-that Dan Nolan has forgotten all about me long before this.”
-
-Mary shook her head doubtfully.
-
-“I don’t know,” she said. “But anyway it won’t matter now, for
-you’ll allers be with th’ gang after this, an’ Nolan won’t dare show
-his nose around where they are. Jack’s just achin’ t’ lay hands on
-him.”
-
-“There,” said Allan, as he drove the last nail, “that’s solid, I
-think,” and he set the tree up in the corner. “Now, what next?”
-
-“All these things has got t’ have little ribbons tied to ’em,” said
-Mrs. Welsh, who had been getting out the candy, fruits, and
-presents. “But I kin do that. You set down an’ read your book.”
-
-“Indeed I won’t!” protested the boy. “I want to feel that I’ve had
-something to do with this tree,” and he drew a chair up to the
-table.
-
-“Somethin’ t’ do with it!” retorted Mary. “You’ve had everything t’
-do with it, I’m a-thinkin’. It’s your Christmas tree, Allan, an’
-mighty nice of you to think of it, my boy.”
-
-“Oh, I wanted Mamie to have one,” he protested; “especially when it
-was so little trouble to get. Now it’s ready for the pop-corn.”
-
-Mrs. Welsh began to drape the white festoons about the tree.
-Suddenly she paused and looked up with startled eyes.
-
-“What was that?” she asked.
-
-Allan listened with strained attention, but heard only the dashing
-of the rain and whistling of the wind.
-
-“It sounded like the trampin’ of men,” she said, after a moment.
-“Perhaps it wasn’t anything. Yes! There it is ag’in!”
-
-She sprang to the door and threw it open with frenzied haste. Up the
-path she saw dimly four men advancing, staggering under a burden.
-Her love told her what the burden was.
-
-“It’s Jack!” she screamed. “It’s Jack! My God! They’ve killed him!”
-and, forgetting the storm, she sprang down the path toward them.
-
-“Is he dead?” she demanded. “Tell me quick—is he dead?”
-
-It was Jack’s hearty voice that answered her.
-
-“Not by a good deal, Mary! It’ll take more’n a twisted ankle t’ kill
-Jack Welsh!”
-
-She threw her arms about him, sobbing wildly in her great relief,
-the men standing by, awkwardly supporting him.
-
-“But there! Here I am keepin’ you out in th’ wet! Bring him in,
-men,” and she ran on before, radiant with happiness. This misfortune
-was so much less than she had feared, that it seemed almost not to
-be a misfortune at all. “It’s only a sprained ankle, Allan,” she
-cried to the boy, and ran on past him to get a chair ready.
-
-The men settled the foreman down into the chair cautiously.
-
-“Shall I git th’ doctor?” asked one.
-
-Jack laughed.
-
-“Th’ doctor, indade!” he said. “Mary’ll fix this all right in no
-time. It ain’t bad. But I’m much obliged to ye, boys.”
-
-The men took themselves back to work, happier, somehow, for having
-witnessed the little scene on the pathway.
-
-But when the boot was cut away from the swollen ankle, it was
-evident that its owner would not go about on it again for many days
-to come. It was bathed and rubbed with liniment and tightly bandaged
-by the wife’s deft fingers, and the pain gradually grew less.
-
-“I slipped on a rail, y’ see,” explained Jack, when the injured
-member had been properly cared for.
-
-“My foot went down into a frog, an’ then I had t’ fall over and
-wrench it. I’m sorry it give y’ such a turn, Mary; I ought t’ have
-sent a man on ahead t’ warn you.”
-
-Mary smiled down on him indulgently.
-
-“’Twas better this way, Jack, dear,” she said. “I’m so happy now t’
-have y’ alive here talkin’ t’ me that it hardly seems you’ve met
-with an accident at all! See, we was jest gittin’ th’ Christmas tree
-ready; now you kin set there, with your foot up on a chair like this
-and boss th’ job. It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good; and I’m
-glad fer your own sake. Now you won’t have to go out in th’ storm.”
-
-But, at the words, the foreman’s face suddenly changed.
-
-“Good heavens!” he cried. “I fergot! Th’ track has t’ be patrolled.
-Somebody has t’ go,” and he raised himself in his chair, but fell
-back with a groan. “No use,” he muttered, between his clenched
-teeth. “To-night, too, when th’ pay-car’ll most probably come
-through! Allan, you’ll have t’ run over t’ th’ train-master, an’ git
-him t’ send somebody else.”
-
-“Mr. Schofield went to Cincinnati this morning, I think,” answered
-Allan. “I saw him getting on the train as I came in from the road.”
-
-“O’ course!” cried Jack, fiercely. “He’s gone down t’ come back with
-th’ pay-car. Well, hunt up th’ chief despatcher, then; somebody’s
-got t’ patrol that track.”
-
-Without a word, Allan donned the foreman’s rubber coat and great
-hat. Then he picked up the heavy club and the red signal-lantern,
-which was standing, still lighted, on the table, where one of the
-men had placed it.
-
-“What y’ goin’ t’ do with that?” demanded Jack, eying the boy
-uneasily. “Y’ don’t need that to go to th’ depot with.”
-
-“No,” said Allan, smiling, “but you see, I’m not going to the depot.
-I’m going to take your trick.”
-
-“No, you ain’t!” cried the other, fiercely.
-
-“Yes, I am. There’s nobody else to be got at this time of night;
-besides, you said yourself there’s no danger.”
-
-Jack looked at him a moment doubtfully.
-
-“No, I don’t think there is,” he said at last. “But it’s a bad
-night.”
-
-“Pooh!” and Allan whirled his club disdainfully. “Not a drop of
-water can get to me in this rig,” he added, echoing Jack’s words.
-
-“Anyway,” said the latter, hesitatingly, “y’ll be back in three
-hours, an’ you kin sleep late in the mornin’. I don’t see no other
-way,” he added, with a sigh.
-
-“All right,” said Allan; “good-bye,” and went to the door.
-
-But Mrs. Welsh ran after him, threw her arms about his neck and
-kissed him.
-
-“You’re a good boy, Allan,” she cried, half-sobbing. “I’ll have a
-good hot meal fer you when y’ git back.”
-
-Allan laughed.
-
-“I’ll be ready for it. Be sure to make a good job of that Christmas
-tree! Good-bye,” and he opened the door and strode out into the
-night.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XVII.
-
- A NIGHT OF DANGER
-
-
-But the storm was not to be dismissed so lightly as Allan had
-dismissed it. Among the houses of the town he was sheltered
-somewhat, but, as he strode on westward, out into the open country,
-it seemed to rage with redoubled violence. The wind swept across the
-embankment along the river with a fury which threatened to blow him
-away. He bent low before it, and, swinging his lantern from right to
-left in unison with his steps, fought his way slowly onward, his
-eyes on the track. Away down at his right he could hear the river
-raging, and from instant to instant the lightning disclosed to him
-glimpses of the storm-tossed water. Once he saw a ball of fire roll
-down the track far ahead and finally leap off, shattering into a
-thousand fragments.
-
-The thunder crashed incessantly, and overhead he could see great
-black clouds rolling across the sky. The rain fell in torrents, and,
-driven before the wind, dashed into his face with a violence which
-stung and blinded him whenever he raised his head. From time to
-time, he was forced to face about, his back to the wind, and gasp
-for breath. Once a gust of extra violence drove him to his knees,
-but he struggled up again and on. He knew that he was not the only
-one who was facing the tempest; he knew that up and down two hundred
-miles of track others were fighting the same fight. They had left
-warm homes, just as he had done, where preparations for Christmas
-were going on; they had not held back from the call of duty, nor
-would he.
-
-He shut his teeth tight together and staggered on. A vision flashed
-before him of the bright room he had just left; he could see Jack
-sitting in his chair, and Mary putting the last touches to the
-Christmas tree. He knew that they were talking of him, planning for
-him, and a sudden wave of tenderness swept over him at the thought
-of how these people had taken him into their hearts and given him
-another home in place of the one he had lost. The new one, of
-course, could never quite take the place of the old one; and yet he
-was no longer the friendless, hungry, lonely boy who had approached
-Jack Welsh so timidly that morning and asked for work. He had
-friends to whom he could look for sympathy and encouragement; there
-were hearts which loved him; he had a place in the world and was
-doing useful work; and he hoped in time to prove himself worthy of a
-higher place and competent to fill it. To-morrow would be a happy
-Christmas!
-
-So, as he fought his way on, it was with no despondent heart, but
-with a bright and hopeful one, that cared nothing for the discomfort
-of the storm. He was happy and at peace within, and no mere external
-tempest could disturb him!
-
-A little grove on either side the track, its trees roaring in the
-tempest, gave him a moment’s shelter. Then he pushed on to the two
-iron bridges which spanned the canal and the highroad just beyond
-it. These he looked over carefully by the light of his lantern, and
-assured himself that they were all right. Beyond the bridges was the
-long grade which led to the deep cut through the spur of hill which
-stretched across the track, and here the wind was howling with a
-fury that threatened to sweep him off his feet. But he fought his
-way on doggedly, step by step, head lowered, eyes on the track,
-lantern swinging from side to side.
-
-Then suddenly the wind ceased, though he could still hear it roaring
-far overhead, and he looked up to see that he had gained the cover
-of the cut. He stopped for breath, rejoicing that the hardest part
-of his task was over. Beyond the cut was a sharp curve, the road was
-carried on a high trestle over a deep ravine, and then onward along
-the top of an embankment,—a “fill,” in railroad parlance,—and this
-embankment marked the western limit of his trick. On his journey
-home, he would have the wind at his back and could get along easily
-and rapidly.
-
-Cheered by this thought, he walked on through the cut, but, as he
-turned the corner at the farther side, the wind struck him again
-with terrific force. He staggered back for an instant against the
-rock, when there came a great flash of lightning that silhouetted
-before him every feature of the landscape. Yet, as the lightning
-died, there remained photographed on his brain only one detail of
-the picture,—before him stretched the trestle, and in the middle of
-it four men were working with feverish energy tearing up a rail!
-
-He leaned back against the rock, dazed at the sight, not
-understanding for a moment what it meant. Then in a flash its
-meaning dawned upon him—they were preparing to wreck a train. But
-what train? It must be nearly eleven o’clock—no train was due for an
-hour or more—yes, there was—the pay-car, hurrying from Cincinnati
-with the Christmas money for the men. It was the pay-car they were
-after. But the pay-car was always crowded with armed men—men armed
-not merely with revolvers, but with Winchester repeaters. Yet, let
-the car crash over that trestle fifty feet upon the rocks below, and
-how many of its occupants would be living to defend themselves?
-
-Allan sank back among the rocks trembling, realizing that in some
-way he must save the train. His first act was to open his lantern
-and extinguish it, lest it betray him. Then he tried quickly to
-think out a plan of action. He must get across the trestle in order
-to flag the train—but how could he get across it? And of a sudden
-his heart stood still as two vague forms loomed up before him. They
-stopped for a moment in the shelter of the wall.
-
-“It was just about here,” said a rough voice he seemed to recognize.
-“I caught a glint of a red light an’ then it went out. I was
-watchin’ fer the track-walker, y’ know, an’ I was sure that was
-him.”
-
-“Flash o’ lightnin’, most likely,” came in a hoarse undertone from
-another.
-
-Allan heard the newcomers grope about, as he cowered close to the
-rock, his heart beating fiercely as he expected each moment to feel
-a hand upon him.
-
-“Y’ see they ain’t nobody here,” said the first speaker, at last.
-
-“Yes,” assented the other, uncertainly. “But he’s about due, if he’s
-comin’.”
-
-“I dunno,” protested the other. “Y’d better not bank on that.”
-
-“I ain’t a-bankin’ on it!” retorted his companion, impatiently.
-“You’re goin’ t’ keep a lookout, ain’t you? Now I’ll go on back an’
-you stay right here. You kin see a long stretch down th’ track from
-here, so they can’t surprise us. If they’s more’n one, warn
-us,—maybe they’ve put on a double guard t’-night,—but, if they’s
-only one, wait here behind this rock, an’ when he comes past, do fer
-him—’specially if it’s Welsh ’r th’ kid. It’s about time we was
-gittin’ even!”
-
-Allan’s heart leaped. He knew the voice now—there was no
-mistaking—it was Nolan’s!
-
-Nolan started back toward the trestle through the storm and was lost
-to sight instantly, while the sentry sat down upon a rock to watch
-the track, whistling to himself, as though train-wrecking were the
-most ordinary thing in the world. But Allan was thinking only of one
-thing—he must get past that man on the rock, he must cross the
-ravine, he must flag the train.
-
-That was his duty lying clear before him. Danger? Yes,—but which of
-his comrades would stop to think of that? Yet he must be
-careful,—not for his own sake, but for the sake of those who were
-speeding toward this peril. He must run no risk of failure, for
-their lives depended upon him—upon his coolness, his foresight, his
-quickness. And whatever he did must be done at once. He gripped his
-hands together to still their trembling. Come,—this was no time for
-weakness. He must prove himself a man! He must prove himself worthy
-the service of the road!
-
-He could not climb the well-nigh perpendicular side of the cut; to
-go back and work his way over the hill would require too much
-time—and there was not a moment to be lost. The only thing to do,
-then, was to go forward. He drew a deep breath; then he tucked his
-lantern snugly under his left arm, grasped his club firmly, and
-moved forward cautiously, hugging the side of the cut, his eyes on
-the sentry.
-
-Once he stumbled heavily over some obstruction, but the storm
-covered the noise, and the sentry made no sign that he had heard,
-but sat twirling a heavy stick and looking down the track. Hope
-began to revive in the boy’s breast; perhaps he might be able to
-steal past unseen. Lower and lower he crouched; slow and more slowly
-he moved; he was almost past—almost past—
-
-Then, of a sudden, a broad flash of lightning flared down into the
-cut and revealed them to each other.
-
-“Reddy!” cried the boy. “Reddy!”
-
-The sentry sprang toward him with uplifted club, his face distorted
-with rage.
-
-“Don’t you know me, Reddy?” cried Allan, springing back to avoid the
-blow.
-
-“Sure Oi knows y’!” shouted the madman, savagely, coming on. “An’
-Oi’m a-goin’ t’ do fer y’, like Dan told me to. He told me y’re all
-in th’ plot ag’in me!”
-
-“It’s a lie, Reddy!” protested Allan, violently. “It’s a lie!”
-
-Reddy paused for an instant.
-
-“A loi, is it?” he repeated. “Wasn’t it you as told on me fer
-breakin’ that link motion?”
-
-“Yes,” admitted the boy; “but—”
-
-[Illustration: “HE STEPPED TO ONE SIDE, AND ... BROUGHT DOWN HIS CLUB
-UPON THE OTHER’S HEAD”]
-
-Reddy waited to hear no more.
-
-“Oi knowed it!” he yelled. “Oi knowed it! Oi’ll show you! Oi’ll show
-you, y’ dirty spy! Don’t try t’ run—it’s no use!”
-
-And he came charging down upon Allan, his club swinging savagely.
-
-But Allan was thinking not in the least of running. Instead, he
-stood his ground, his teeth clenched, his eyes alert, his club
-ready. He was not in the least excited; now, indeed, he found an
-instant in which to wonder at his calmness. Then Reddy was upon him
-and struck at him savagely. He stepped to one side, and, putting all
-his force into the blow,—oh, how he hated to do it!—brought down his
-club upon the other’s head.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XVIII.
-
- THE SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT
-
-
-That blow had all the weight of Allan’s muscular young body behind
-it, for he had realized that this was no moment to hold his hand,
-however he might wish to do so, and Reddy tumbled in a limp heap
-upon the track.
-
-The tears were gushing from the boy’s eyes as he bent over the body
-and drew it to one side to the shelter of the rock. That he should
-have struck Reddy—perhaps even killed him! But he could not linger;
-with a last glance at the prostrate figure, he turned back to the
-task before him.
-
-Plainly he could not hope to cross the trestle with half a dozen men
-working on it—to try to do so would mean certain failure. Yet he
-must cross the ravine,—there was only one other way, and that not an
-easy one.
-
-He threw off Jack’s waterproof, which would only impede him now that
-he needed the utmost freedom of movement, and, holding his lantern
-tight, he jumped from the track and half-scrambled, half-fell down
-the steep descent below him, disregarding mud and brambles, torn
-clothes, and bruises, thinking only of one thing—that he must reach
-the other side and save the train. In a moment he was at the bottom,
-bruised and breathless, but luckily with no bones broken. Then for
-an instant he paused. Through the bottom of the ravine ran a stream,
-usually a gentle, shallow brook, but now swollen to an angry torrent
-by the pouring rain. There was no time for hesitation—no time to
-seek a better place—indeed, that was impossible in the darkness—and,
-holding his lantern high above his head, the boy dashed into the
-water.
-
-For a moment it seemed that he must be swept away, so fierce was the
-rush of the torrent; but he got his feet, braced himself against it,
-and inch by inch fought his way across. The water tore at him and
-raged around him, hissing and sputtering, determined that he should
-not escape. Well for him that he had had those months of work on
-section, which had strengthened muscle and steadied nerve—which had
-taught him how to fight!
-
-So, at last, he won through to the farther bank, breathless,
-exhausted, triumphant. And here a new difficulty met him. He had
-shut himself into a trap from which there seemed no escaping. Again
-and again he tried to climb the steep side of the ravine, but as
-many times slipped down to the bottom, bringing with him an
-avalanche of earth and loose stones.
-
-Dry sobs rose in his throat and choked him as he lay for a moment
-against the bank, weak and trembling. Was he to be defeated here,
-with the end almost in sight? Was he to fail, after all? Must he
-stay here to witness the train take that awful plunge from the
-trestle down into the torrent beneath? He looked up with a shudder.
-High above him, he could see the trestle dimly outlined against the
-sky, and he knew that the work of tearing up the rail must be almost
-done.
-
-He shook the weakness from him—he must be a man!—and he shut his
-eyes as he tried to picture to himself how the place looked by
-daylight. He had crossed the trestle a hundred times and gazed down
-into the ravine, admiring its rugged beauty. For centuries that
-little stream, which started in a spring high up on the hillside,
-had been labouring patiently digging this channel for itself, eating
-its way through earth and rock and slate, fashioning for itself a
-little narrow valley, just as the great streams make for themselves
-broad and fertile ones. It had eaten its way down and down, leaving
-on either side, extending to a height of nearly a hundred feet,
-rocky and precipitous banks. Allan remembered how in summer those
-banks were clothed in green; how he had looked down at them from the
-trestle. One day he had descried a brilliant patch of wild flowers
-near the bottom, where they had grown and spread, safe from man’s
-intrusion. He had never thought how much would one day depend upon
-his knowledge of the place, or he would have examined the banks more
-closely.
-
-Something swished through the air above him, and fell with a mighty
-splash into the torrent—it was the rail—it had been torn loose—the
-wreckers’ work was done. Now, they had only to wait until the train
-came dashing past! Perhaps even at this moment it was nearing the
-destruction which threatened it! The boy shuddered at the thought,
-and made another vain and desperate effort to scramble up the bank.
-This time he managed to get hold of a little bush high above his
-head, but, as he was pulling himself up, the bush gave way and he
-fell again to the bottom. He realized that he could never hope to
-climb that treacherous bank, that he must follow the ravine until it
-grew wider and shallower. Yet how could he do that and still be in
-time to save the train? There must be some way out near at hand! The
-robbers must have provided some path by which to get down to the
-wrecked train and get up again with their booty. But no doubt the
-path, if there was one, was on the other side of the ravine, where
-it would be of no use to him; very probably there was no path at
-all. The robbers had merely to let down a rope to provide a means of
-entrance and exit. He would have to go around, and he started
-blindly forward down the stream, holding his lantern tight,
-trembling to think of the precious moments he had wasted,—of the
-ones that he must yet waste before he could gain the track above and
-warn the engineer of the peril which lay before him. It was a
-desperate chance, but it seemed the only one.
-
-He groped his way stumblingly along, walking in the edge of the
-water, making such progress as he could; slipping, falling full
-length once or twice, but rising again and pressing forward. His
-teeth were chattering, for the icy water had chilled him to the
-bone, but he seemed not to be conscious of the cold; his hands and
-face were cut and bleeding, scratched by brambles and by the sharp
-edges of rocks and slate, but he did not feel the sting of the
-wounds. He was thinking only of one thing—he must get out of this
-trap—he must flag the train! There must be some way out! He could
-not fail now!
-
-Then, suddenly, he remembered. Just below the trestle, a little
-stream, rushing down the hillside to join the torrent below, had cut
-for itself a miniature ravine in the side of the larger one. He had
-noticed it one day not long before—had noticed its rocky bed, which
-rose steeply to the fields above, but not so steeply as the sides of
-the ravine itself. Here was a way up which he might escape, if he
-could only find it. It must be somewhere near,—and he groped his way
-along, faltering, stumbling,—and at last he found the cut.
-
-Yet it was not so easy of ascent as he had thought it would be; for
-the water was rushing headlong down it, threatening to sweep him
-back at every moment. Still he clambered on, digging knees and
-elbows into the mud, holding with desperate strength to the bushes
-that grew by the way, using every rock for foothold, up and up,
-until, at last, wet to the skin, with clothing torn and body cut,
-covered with mud, bruised and aching, but glowing with triumphant
-excitement, he reached the top.
-
-He knew the railroad was somewhere to the right, and he stumbled
-forward as fast as his trembling legs would carry him. More than
-once he tripped and fell heavily over a log or stone, but always he
-held tight his precious lantern, not minding his own bruises so that
-it was safe. And at last, with a great joy at his heart, he saw,
-stretching dimly ahead of him, the high embankment upon which rested
-the track.
-
-He sat down for a moment to take breath, then reached into his
-trousers pocket and drew out his match-safe. It was a company safe,
-and waterproof, for often the fate of a train depended on whether a
-watchman’s matches were wet or dry, and for this, at least, the
-company had the foresight to provide. Crouching in the shelter of
-the embankment, he found a little rock, and, holding it under his
-coat, struck a match against it. A gust of wind caught it instantly
-and blew it out. With trembling fingers, he struck another match,
-which sputtered feebly for a second, flared up and was extinguished;
-but the third match burned for a moment, and he applied it quickly
-to the wick of the lantern. How the red glare warmed and cheered him
-as he snapped the globe back into place! He was in time to save the
-train!
-
-Then he sprang to his feet. For away down the track before him came
-the sudden glare of a headlight, as the engine swung around a curve,
-and the hum of the wheels told that the engineer was speeding
-through the night, with throttle wide open, anxious, no doubt, to
-get safely into the haven of the yards at Wadsworth.
-
-Up the bank scrambled the boy and down the track he ran, as fast as
-his feet would carry him, swinging his lantern in great circles over
-his head. He knew that the engineer must see it; he knew that on
-such a night as this his eyes would be turned not an instant from
-the track.
-
-Then, suddenly, from behind him, there came the sharp crack of a
-revolver, and his lantern was smashed to pieces in his hand. He
-wheeled to see a flash of flame, as the revolver spoke again; the
-world reeled before him, turned black, and a great blow seemed to
-strike him in the chest and bear him down.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XIX.
-
- REDDY REDIVIVUS
-
-
-Bill Johnson, engineer of the 187, pulling the pay-car, stared out
-into the night, his hand on the throttle. The long gleam of the
-headlight shot out through the driving rain, and he could see the
-wet rails gleaming far ahead. He was making a record run; the
-superintendent had given him some hint of his fear for the safety of
-the pay-car, and he heaved a sigh of relief as the train swung
-around a curve and hurtled down the fill on the straightaway course
-for Wadsworth. Once in the yards there, the pay-car would be safe.
-
-Then, with a quick gasp, he closed the throttle, reversed the
-engine, and threw on the brakes, for, far down the track ahead of
-him he had caught the gleam of a red lantern waved twice in the air.
-The light had vanished mysteriously in full flight, but a single
-glimpse of it was warning enough for Johnson.
-
-The moment the brakes were applied, the detectives, back in the
-pay-car, had grabbed down the Winchesters from the wall and made
-ready for a fight. It might be that the engineer had sighted an
-obstruction on the track, and they waited instant by instant to feel
-the car leave the rails. It stopped with a jerk, and the detectives
-piled out, ready for anything.
-
-“What’s the matter?” they asked, coming to the spot where Johnson
-was leaning out of his cab window.
-
-“Somebody flagged me a minute ago,” answered Johnson, still peering
-out through the night. “It’s funny he don’t come ahead an’ tell us
-what’s th’ trouble.”
-
-“Maybe it’s a trick to get us away from the car,” said somebody, and
-the detectives faced about in the darkness, instinctively bracing
-themselves to receive a volley of bullets.
-
-“Climb up here in th’ cab,” suggested Johnson, “an’ I’ll go ahead
-slow, an’ find out what’s th’ matter.”
-
-They climbed up instantly, and the engine crept slowly ahead, while
-they all peered out through the dashing rain, expecting they knew
-not what.
-
-“There’s somethin’ on th’ track,” cried Johnson, after a moment, his
-trained eyes catching the first glimpse of a dim obstruction. “It’s
-a man!” he said. “It’s th’ track-walker. Somebody done fer him jest
-as he was signallin’ me! That’s why his lantern went out!”
-
-The men ran forward, Mr. Schofield among them. In the white glare of
-the headlight, they could see a form stretched heavily across the
-track, lying on its face.
-
-One of the men turned it over.
-
-“My God! It’s young West!” cried Mr. Schofield, and dropped on his
-knee beside him.
-
-“And shot through the breast,” added one of the detectives,
-indicating the growing blood-stain upon the boy’s shirt.
-
-They carried him tenderly back to the pay-car and laid him on a cot
-there. His right hand still grasped the handle of his shattered
-lantern, holding it so tightly that they could not remove it. Mr.
-Schofield himself did what he could to stop the flow of blood; then
-went forward cautiously to investigate. In the centre of the
-trestle, they found that a rail had been torn from the track.
-
-“There’s where we’d have been by this time but for that boy,” said
-Mr. Schofield, in a low voice, and motioned toward the abyss, his
-face set and livid. “How he got past the wreckers I can’t imagine.
-Now I want you men to run down the fiends who did this. We’ve got to
-have them, no matter what it costs! Now get after them! I’ll get
-this rail back—don’t bother about that—and take the pay-car in. You
-fellows catch these scoundrels!”
-
-The detectives hurried away into the night, while Mr. Schofield
-called the train-crew, got out an extra rail which was always kept
-by the side of the bridge, and soon had it spiked into place.
-
-“Now go ahead, Johnson,” he called to the engineer, “but you’d
-better run slow—maybe there’s another rail loose somewhere,” and he
-swung himself up the steps of the pay-car and sat down by Allan’s
-cot, with a very grim face.
-
-But let Johnson, the engineer, tell the rest of the story, as he
-told it to a group of interested auditors the very next day in the
-roundhouse office.
-
-“I tell you, I run over that trestle mighty cautious-like,” he said,
-“an’ it give me a turn when I looked down into that ditch an’
-thought of what would have happened if th’ boy hadn’t flagged us.
-But we got across all right, an’ started through th’ cut, still
-runnin’ slow, fer I didn’t know but what there might be a rock on
-the track, when I heard somebody hollerin’ at me, an’ in a minute up
-comes Reddy Magraw climbin’ into th’ cab, lookin’ crazier ’n ever.
-
-“‘How did I git out here?’ he asked, wild-like. ‘Who fetched me out
-here? What ’m I doin’ ’way out here?’
-
-“‘If you don’t know, I don’t,’ says I. ‘Set down there an’ rest.
-What’s th’ matter with your head?’ I asked, fer I saw it was all
-bloody on one side.
-
-“Reddy put his hand up and felt of his head; then he took his hand
-down an’ looked at the blood on it.
-
-“‘I dunno,’ he says. ‘Mebbe th’ engine hit me. Where’s Welsh an’ the
-rest o’ th’ gang? They oughtn’t to have gone off an’ left me layin’
-out here like this,—I didn’t think they’d do that!’
-
-“‘What engine hit you?’ I asked.
-
-“‘Why, th’ engine o’ Number Four,’ he says. ‘I didn’t have time t’
-git out of th’ road after I threw th’ switch. But I didn’t think th’
-boys’d ’a’ left me layin’ out here like this. Why, I might ’a’
-died!’
-
-“Well, sir, it come to me all in a minute that somehow Reddy Magraw
-had got his senses back, an’ I tell you it set me a-tremblin’ jest
-like th’ time my wife had her first baby. I was purty nigh scared to
-death!
-
-“‘I guess th’ engine must ’a’ hit you, sure,’ I says, to ease him
-up. Then, as th’ track was clear, I opened up my engine, while
-Magraw set on the floor of th’ cab in a dazed sort of way. Never a
-word did he say till we pulled into the yards.
-
-“‘You’d better see a doctor,’ I says. But he jumped off th’ engine
-th’ minute we stopped.
-
-“‘I don’t want no doctor,’ he says. ‘I’m goin’ home.’ An’ he started
-off on a run.
-
-“Well, you orter seen Mr. Schofield when I told him. He went along
-with th’ boy, an’ seen him fixed up, an’ then hurried away with th’
-doctor t’ see Reddy. An’ he found him at home with his wife on one
-knee an’ his children on th’ other,—he told us when he got back.”
-
-Johnson stopped, took out his handkerchief, and mopped his eyes
-openly.
-
-“I don’t keer,” he said, looking around defiantly. “It’s enough t’
-make any man’s eyes wet t’ think of what that family’s been through,
-an’ now Reddy’s give back to ’em ag’in with a head’s good as
-anybody’s. Why, it beats anything I ever heard of!”
-
-And, indeed, it was a nine-days’ wonder to every one. The doctors
-came and looked at him and explained what had happened in many
-learned words, and one of them wrote a paper about it, which he read
-before a medical society; the newspapers heard of it and wrote it
-up, and published Reddy’s photograph,—why, Mrs. Magraw has all those
-papers put carefully away, and she gets them out occasionally even
-yet, and reads them and cries over them,—but they are tears of
-happiness and thanksgiving. For Reddy was as well as ever, and the
-gist of all the learned medical opinions was that the blow on the
-head which Allan dealt him had somehow set right the brain
-disordered by the blow it had received from the engine months
-before. It did for him just what an operation might have done, and
-did it effectually. How it had done it, the doctors couldn’t say,
-and there were many warm discussions over it. It was not without
-precedent,—not unfrequently a case of the same kind is reported,—but
-the righting of that delicate mechanism, the brain, is something
-that no physician, be he never so famous, as yet thoroughly
-understands.
-
-The one fact remained that Reddy was himself again, and freed for
-ever from the influence of Dan Nolan. And, indeed, Nolan himself was
-destined to pay the penalty for his iniquities. For the detectives
-soon found the trail of him and his companions; the help of the
-Wadsworth police force was secured, a bloodhound was brought to the
-scene, and all that night the pursuit was kept up among the hills.
-When morning dawned, the quarry was run to cover in an old log hut
-near the top of Mount Logan, and the detectives and police
-surrounded it.
-
-The robbers put up a short fight, but they saw they had no chance to
-escape, and the bullets from the Winchesters were whistling through
-the cabin in a most unnerving way, so they waved a white rag out of
-one of the windows and surrendered. There were four in the party,
-Nolan and three tramps whom nobody knew. They were taken back to
-Wadsworth and lodged safely in jail there, leaving it only to go to
-the State penitentiary at Columbus to serve a term of years. Nolan
-broke down at the last, like the great coward he really was,
-confessed, plead guilty, and turned State’s evidence against his
-comrades in order to save himself a year or two of imprisonment. So
-that was the end of Nolan for a time; but his power for mischief was
-not yet at an end, and he later involved some of his old associates
-in new disasters—but that story cannot be told here.
-
-
-
-
- CHAPTER XX.
-
- THE ROAD’S GRATITUDE
-
-
-It was only a memory now, that gray, wet Christmas morning when
-Allan had been brought home pale and limp, on a stretcher. They had
-started from bed at the first tap on the door, for his prolonged
-absence had begun to worry them, and Jack, unheeding his sprained
-ankle, had hobbled to it and flung it open. He stood silent as they
-brought the boy in and set the stretcher on the floor. He watched
-the doctor strip back his clothing, remove the rude bandage that had
-been hastily placed over the wound, wipe away the blood, and begin
-to probe for the bullet. Mary, too, had thrown on her gown and stood
-watching the operation with white face.
-
-“Doctor,” burst out Jack, at last, almost fiercely, “don’t tell me
-he’s dead! Don’t tell me he’s goin’ t’ die! He saved my little girl.
-Don’t tell me I let him go t’ his death!”
-
-“He’ll not die,” said the doctor, reassuringly. “The bullet seems to
-have been deflected from its course and to have made only a bad
-flesh wound.”
-
-But it turned the watchers sick to see the probe sink in deeper and
-deeper. Suddenly the surgeon gave a little exclamation and ran his
-hand under the boy’s shoulder.
-
-“Here,” he said to his assistant, “turn him over.”
-
-He made a quick cut with a knife under the shoulder-blade, and a
-little flattened piece of lead fell into his hand.
-
-“There’s the bullet,” and he handed it to Welsh. “Maybe he’ll want
-it for a keepsake.” And he proceeded skilfully to bandage up the
-wound.
-
-But it was not until Allan opened his eyes and smiled faintly up at
-them that Jack and Mary believed that he could live. They fell on
-their knees beside his bed, but the doctor hurried them away.
-
-“What he needs now is sleep,” he said. “Let him sleep as long as he
-can.”
-
-“But look at his poor face, doctor,” whispered Mary, “an’ at his
-hands, all tore and scratched. Do ye suppose them devils did that to
-him, too?”
-
-“I don’t know,” said the doctor. “Those scratches won’t hurt him;
-it’s that wound in the breast that’s dangerous. Now, let him sleep.”
-
-And sleep he did, all through that Christmas Day. The story of his
-exploit had got about, and a constant stream of railroad men came
-softly up the path to ask how he was doing, and to stand around
-afterward and discuss the story. All night he slept, with Mary
-watching by his bedside, and, when he opened his eyes next morning,
-she was still sitting there.
-
-The doctor came an hour later, looked at the wound, felt his pulse,
-and nodded encouragingly.
-
-“He’ll pull through all right,” he said. “He’s got a little fever,
-but that was to be expected. But he’s in first-class shape and will
-soon rally from that wound. Keep him quiet for a day or two.”
-
-Before that time, the fever had subsided, the wound was healing
-nicely, and the doctor pronounced his patient out of danger.
-
-“He’s pretty weak,” he said, “and must take things easy. Don’t let
-him strain himself any way, or he may open the wound. Keep him quiet
-and cheerful—his youth will do the rest.”
-
-How they vied with one another to nurse Allan back to strength
-again. Reddy, his old self, was the first caller, with his heart
-going out to the boy with a love that was well-nigh worship.
-
-“I don’t know nothin’ ’bout how it happened, Allan,” he said,
-wringing the hand of the white-faced boy, “but I think I can count
-on y’ not to be layin’ it up ag’in me.”
-
-Allan leaned back and laughed.
-
-“I think if you can cry quits, I can,” he said. How the great load
-rolled from off his heart as he saw Reddy, whom he had last beheld
-lying prone at his feet, now his genial old self again!
-
-“But, oh, Reddy, I did hate to hit you!”
-
-“Ho, ho!” cried Reddy; “if it had kilt me intirely, Oi’d ’a’ been
-th’ last to complain! Is it true, Allan, that I was runnin’ around
-with tramps?”
-
-“Yes, that’s true, Reddy.”
-
-“An’ hobnobbin’ with Dan Nolan?”
-
-“Yes.”
-
-“An’ abusin’ my missus?”
-
-“You didn’t abuse her, Reddy.”
-
-“An’ fightin’ my best friends, an’ wreckin’ railroad property, an’
-actin’ generally loike a low-down haythen?” went on Reddy, rapidly.
-“Why, th’ only thing I can’t forgive y’ fer, Allan, is thet y’
-didn’t knock me over th’ head long afore!”
-
-“I would, Reddy,” laughed Allan, “if I’d thought it would cure you.”
-
-“If it hadn’t cured me,” said Reddy, “it might ’a’ kilt me-an’ thet
-was what I deserved!”
-
-Joy is the best of all medicines, and Allan’s improvement was rapid.
-At the end of a week he could spend hours lying back in a padded
-chair, and Jack was finally prevailed upon to go regularly to work
-and leave the care of the invalid to his wife.
-
-It was on the platform before the station that the superintendent
-stopped him one evening, as he was hurrying home from work.
-
-“How are things out on the line?” he asked.
-
-“All right, sir.”
-
-“Going to win the track prize again this spring?”
-
-“No, sir,” and Jack grew suddenly grave. “One of my best men is laid
-up, y’ know.”
-
-“Ah, yes,” and the superintendent nodded. “How is the boy getting
-along, Jack?”
-
-“He’ll pull through,” said the other, slowly, “but he had a mighty
-close call. If th’ bullet hadn’t struck a rib an’ glanced off, he’d
-’a’ been done fer. I went down t’ look at th’ place he got acrost
-th’ ravine, an’ I don’t see how he done it.”
-
-“Neither do I,” agreed the superintendent. “I took a look at it,
-too.”
-
-“Well,” continued Jack, “th’ fever’s over now, an’ he’s gittin’ his
-strength back.”
-
-“And his appetite, too, I dare say.”
-
-“Yes,” assented Jack, with a quick smile of enjoyment, “an’ his
-appetite, too. Why, it does us more good t’ see him eat than to eat
-ourselves.”
-
-“I don’t doubt it; but you mustn’t spoil the boy with too much
-coddling.”
-
-“Spoil him!” retorted Jack. “Not fer a minute! Why, y’ couldn’t
-spoil him, sir. He’s pure gold, all th’ way through.”
-
-The superintendent started on, stopped for an instant to chew his
-moustache, then turned back.
-
-“Jack!” he called.
-
-“Yes, sir,” and the foreman stopped.
-
-“You were saying,” began the superintendent, a little awkwardly,
-“that the boy’s eating again. He ought to have some dainties, Welsh;
-oysters and chicken and fruit, and that sort of thing.”
-
-“We hope t’ be able t’ git ’em fer him, sir,” answered Jack, with
-dignity.
-
-“Well, the road won’t let you get them,” said the superintendent.
-“We owe him a good deal, and we’re going to pay some of it this way.
-I’m going to stop in over here at the store and tell Fisher to send
-the boy whatever he wants and send the bill in to the road. I’ll see
-that it’s paid. Of course, we’ll take care of the doctor and drug
-bills, too. Now, maybe he’d like some oranges or pineapple or
-something of that sort right away. Anyway, I’ll tell Fisher,” and he
-hurried on, as though fearing to hear what the other might say.
-
-Welsh looked after him for a moment without saying anything, then
-turned toward home.
-
-And Mr. Heywood, hurrying on, stopped at the grocery and gave
-certain directions.
-
-“And see here, Fisher,” he concluded, “you’ll send the bill to me,
-but that’s nobody’s business but our own. I want them to think that
-the road’s paying for it.”
-
-Half an hour later, a grocer’s boy knocked at the door of the Welsh
-cottage and handed in a great basket of dainties, and Allan was soon
-smiling over a bowl of steaming oyster soup, with Jack and his wife
-and Mamie grouped about the bed watching him enjoy it. And I don’t
-believe there is any more exquisite pleasure in the world than that
-which they experienced in that moment!
-
-The winter days were clear and bright, and Allan found a rare
-enjoyment in lying back in the great chair which Mrs. Welsh had
-padded expressly for him, and looking out over the yards and
-watching the busy life there. He was sitting so one afternoon when
-some one turned in at the gate and mounted the path to the house.
-
-“Why, it’s Misther Schofield!” cried Mary, and hastily dusted off a
-chair with her apron, in honour of the distinguished visitor,—not
-that it needed dusting.
-
-The train-master came up with smiling face.
-
-“How are you, Mrs. Welsh?” he asked. “And how is the invalid?”
-
-He sat down by the side of the chair, and, reaching over, gave
-Allan’s hand a hearty clasp.
-
-“Do you know, I am ashamed of myself for not getting here before
-this,” he went on, genially, “but I have kept posted about you,
-because I wanted to know when you were ready to go back to work.”
-
-“I’ll be ready before long, sir,” said Allan, smiling in sympathy
-with his guest’s good humour. “I’m getting quite strong again.”
-
-But Mrs. Welsh interrupted him.
-
-“Listen at th’ boy!” she cried, indignantly. “Why, Misther
-Schofield, an’ him with a bullethole clear through him t’ think o’
-goin’ out an’ workin’ on section!”
-
-The train-master was smiling more broadly than ever.
-
-“It does seem pretty tough, doesn’t it?” he said. “Here’s a boy
-who’s saved the company’s pay-car with two hundred thousand dollars
-in it, and the lives of ten or fifteen men, and came within a hair’s
-breadth of getting killed. And yet he has to work on section for
-forty dollars a month. But then, there’s not so much danger on
-section any more; we’ve routed the tramps, you know, for good and
-all. Still, it’s pretty tough.”
-
-“Tough!” and Mrs. Welsh looked at him with flaming eyes. “It’s worse
-’n that, beggin’ your pardon, sir. It’s a sin an’ a shame! It’s a
-disgrace t’ th’ company!”
-
-Allan tried to silence her, but she would not be silenced. He stole
-a horrified glance at Mr. Schofield, and was astonished to see that
-he was still smiling.
-
-“A disgrace!” repeated that official. “Well, I agree with you, Mrs.
-Welsh. So we’re not going to let him go back on section. We can’t
-afford to waste a good man that way. It’s a little late for a
-Christmas gift, maybe, but he’s earned it and he’s going to get it.”
-
-Mary stared at the speaker, speechless.
-
-“There’s a job open in my office, young man,” he went on, turning to
-Allan. “It’s yours if you want it. It’s not such a very good job,
-for it pays only fifty dollars a month, but you’ll learn more about
-railroading there in a month than you can ever do on section, and
-you’ll be in line for promotion, and you’ll get promoted when you
-merit it. What do you say?”
-
-What could Allan say, with a heart too full for utterance? He
-reached out his hands blindly, and the other, understanding, clasped
-them in his strong, steady ones.
-
- * * * * *
-
-And that was how it came about that Allan got the place in the
-offices which he had longed for, under the eye of the best
-train-master in the West, where, as he had promised, there was more
-railroading to be learned in a month than in a lifetime of section
-work. He became a part of the brain which ruled and directed the
-whole wonderful system. He came to know what the instruments ticking
-madly away on every table were saying. He proved himself worthy of
-the trust reposed in him, and on two critical occasions, at least,
-he displayed a nerve and quickness of judgment which caused the
-general manager to ask the train-master:
-
-“Who is this fellow named West you’ve got down there in your office,
-Schofield? He seems a good one.”
-
-“He _is_ a good one,” Mr. Schofield had responded, earnestly.
-“You’ll hear from him again.”
-
-How the prophecy came true and what adventures befell Allan in his
-new position will be told in “The Young Train-despatcher”; but,
-whatever his successes, I doubt if he ever knew happier days than
-those he spent with Reddy and Jack Welsh on Section Twenty-one.
-
- THE END.
-
-
-
-
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-Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50
-
-The charm of style and historical value of Miss Robinson’s previous
-stories of child life in Puritan days have brought them wide
-popularity. Her latest and most important book appeals to a large
-juvenile public. The “knight errant” of this story is a little Don
-Quixote, whose trials and their ultimate outcome will prove deeply
-interesting to their reader.
-
-
-The Rival Campers; or, the Adventures of Henry Burns. By Ruel
-P. Smith.
-
-12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50
-
-Here is a book which will grip and enthuse every boy who is lucky
-enough to secure it. It is the story of a party of typical American
-lads, courageous, alert, and athletic, who spend a summer camping on
-an island off the Maine coast. Every boy reader will envy them their
-adventures,—yacht-racing, canoeing, and camping,—which culminate in
-their discovery and capture of a gang of daring robbers; but the
-influence of wholesome, outdoor life in the development of manly
-character is well brought out. Henry Burns, the leader of the boys,
-is a character in juvenile fiction of whom we are likely to hear
-again.
-
-
-The Young Section Hand; or, The Adventures of Allan West. By
-Burton E. Stevenson, author of “The Marathon Mystery,” etc.
-
-12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50
-
-Every branch of railroading fascinates the average American boy. The
-shops, the telegraph and signal systems, the yard and track work,
-the daily life of danger which confronts every employee, whether he
-be the ordinary workman or the engineer of a limited express train,
-and the mysterious “office” which controls every branch of the
-work,—each holds out its allurements to him.
-
-In this story Mr. Stevenson’s hero is just the right sort, a manly
-lad of sixteen who is given a chance as a section hand on a big
-Western railroad, and whose experiences are as real as they are
-thrilling. He is persecuted by the discharged employee whose place
-he took, and becomes involved in complications which nearly cause
-his undoing; but his manliness and courage are finally proven, and
-the reward is his for duty done at any cost.
-
-
-Born to the Blue. By Florence Kimball Russel.
-
-12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.00
-
-The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on every page of
-this delightful tale. The boy is the son of a captain of U. S.
-cavalry stationed at a frontier post in the days when our regulars
-earned the gratitude of a nation. His military training is begun at
-a very early age; and how well he profits by the soldierly qualities
-of manhood and honor and modesty and courtesy instilled is brought
-out in a series of incidents and adventures which will appeal to
-every youngster, and to many of their elders. Every phase of
-garrison life is included, for, though an officer’s son, his friends
-range from the colonel commanding to the trooper who taught him to
-ride his Indian pony.
-
-The author is herself “of the army,” and knows every detail of the
-life. From reveille to retreat her descriptions are accurate, which
-adds to the value and interest of the book.
-
-
-“Yours with All My Heart:” The Autobiography of a Real Dog. By
-Esther M. Baxendale. With nearly a hundred illustrations from
-photographs and from drawings by Etheldred B. Barry.
-
-Large 12mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.50
-
-Mrs. Baxendale’s charming story, though written primarily for
-children, will find a warm welcome from all those who love animals.
-It is a true story of a deeply loved pet and companion of the
-author’s for thirteen years; and it cannot fail to inspire in the
-hearts of all the young people fortunate enough to hear it that
-affection and sympathy for domestic animals so essential in the
-moulding of character.
-
-
-The Roses of St. Elizabeth. By Jane Scott Woodruff, author of
-“The Little Christmas Shoe.”
-
-12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.00
-
-This is a charming little story of a child whose father was
-caretaker of the great castle of the Wartburg, where St. Elizabeth
-once had her home, with a fairy-tale interwoven in which the roses
-and the ivy in the castle yard tell to the child and her playmate
-quaint old legends of the saint and the castle. This is just the
-sort of a story that girls love, with its sweetness and its
-fragrance and its faint echo of days long gone, with a suspicion of
-present-day romance at the end.
-
-
-Songs and Rhymes for the Little Ones. Compiled by Mary Whitney
-Morrison (Jenny Wallis).
-
-New edition, with an introduction by Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, with
-eight illustrations.
-
-One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.00
-
-No better description of this admirable book can be given than Mrs.
-Whitney’s happy introduction:
-
-“One might almost as well offer June roses with the assurance of
-their sweetness, as to present this lovely little gathering of
-verse, which announces itself, like them, by its deliciousness. Yet
-as Mrs. Morrison’s charming volume has long been a delight to me, I
-am only too happy to link my name with its new and enriched form in
-this slight way, and simply declare that it is to me the most
-bewitching book of songs for little people that I have ever known.”
-
-
-
-
- PHYLLIS’ FIELD FRIENDS SERIES
- By LENORE E. MULETS
-
-Six vols., cloth decorative, illustrated by Sophie Schneider. Sold
-separately, or as a set.
-
-Per volume . . . $1.00
-
-Per set . . . 6.00
-
-Insect Stories.
-
-Stories of Little Animals.
-
-Flower Stories.
-
-Bird Stories.
-
-Tree Stories.
-
-Stories of Little Fishes.
-
-In this series of six little Nature books, it is the author’s
-intention so to present to the child reader the facts about each
-particular flower, insect, bird, or animal, in story form, as to
-make delightful reading. Classical legends, myths, poems, and songs
-are so introduced as to correlate fully with these lessons, to which
-the excellent illustrations are no little help.
-
-
- THE WOODRANGER TALES
- By G. WALDO BROWNE
-
-The Woodranger.
-
-The Young Gunbearer.
-
-The Hero of the Hills.
-
-With Rogers’ Rangers.
-
-Each 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth, decorative cover, illustrated, per
-volume . . . $1.00
-
-Four vols., boxed, per set . . . 4.00
-
-“The Woodranger Tales,” like the “Pathfinder Tales” of J. Fenimore
-Cooper, combine historical information relating to early pioneer
-days in America with interesting adventures in the backwoods.
-Although the same characters are continued throughout the series,
-each book is complete in itself, and, while based strictly on
-historical facts, is an interesting and exciting tale of adventure.
-
-
-Beautiful Joe’s Paradise; or, The Island of Brotherly Love. A
-sequel to “Beautiful Joe.” By Marshall Saunders, author of
-“Beautiful Joe,” “For His Country,” etc. With fifteen full-page
-plates and many decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston
-Bull.
-
-One vol., library 12mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.50
-
-“Will be immensely enjoyed by the boys and girls who read
-it.”—_Pittsburg Gazette_.
-
-“Miss Saunders has put life, humor, action, and tenderness into her
-story. The book deserves to be a favorite.”—_Chicago Record-Herald_.
-
-“This book revives the spirit of ‘Beautiful Joe’ capitally. It is
-fairly riotous with fun, and as a whole is about as unusual as
-anything in the animal book line that has seen the light. It is a
-book for juveniles—old and young.”—_Philadelphia Item_.
-
-
-’Tilda Jane. By Marshall Saunders, author of “Beautiful Joe,”
-etc.
-
-One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth, decorative
-cover . . . $1.50
-
-“No more amusing and attractive child’s story has appeared for a
-long time than this quaint and curious recital of the adventures of
-that pitiful and charming little runaway.
-
-“It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books that win
-and charm the reader, and I did not put it down until I had finished
-it—honest! And I am sure that every one, young or old, who reads
-will be proud and happy to make the acquaintance of the delicious
-waif.
-
-“I cannot think of any better book for children than this. I commend
-it unreservedly.”—_Cyrus Townsend Brady_.
-
-
-The Story of the Graveleys. By Marshall Saunders, author of
-“Beautiful Joe’s Paradise,” “’Tilda Jane,” etc.
-
-Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B.
-Barry . . . $1.50
-
-Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and triumphs, of a
-delightful New England family, of whose devotion and sturdiness it
-will do the reader good to hear. From the kindly, serene-souled
-grandmother to the buoyant madcap, Berty, these Graveleys are folk
-of fibre and blood—genuine human beings.
-
-
-
-
- THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES
-
-The most delightful and interesting accounts possible of child-life
-in other lands, filled with quaint sayings, doings, and adventures.
-
-Each 1 vol., 12mo, decorative cover, cloth, with six full-page
-illustrations in color by L. J. Bridgman.
-
-Price per volume . . . $0.60
-
- By MARY HAZELTON WADE
-
- Our Little African Cousin
- Our Little Armenian Cousin
- Our Little Brown Cousin
- Our Little Cuban Cousin
- Our Little Eskimo Cousin
- Our Little German Cousin
- Our Little Hawaiian Cousin
- Our Little Indian Cousin
- Our Little Irish Cousin
- Our Little Italian Cousin
- Our Little Japanese Cousin
- Our Little Jewish Cousin
- Our Little Mexican Cousin
- Our Little Norwegian Cousin
- Our Little Philippine Cousin
- Our Little Porto Rican Cousin
- Our Little Russian Cousin
- Our Little Siamese Cousin
- Our Little Swiss Cousin
- Our Little Turkish Cousin
-
- By BLANCHE McMANUS
-
- Our Little English Cousin
- Our Little French Cousin
-
- By ELIZABETH ROBERTS MacDONALD
-
- Our Little Canadian Cousin
-
- By ISAAC HEADLAND TAYLOR
-
- Our Little Chinese Cousin
-
- By H. LEE M. PIKE
-
- Our Little Korean Cousin
-
-
-
-
- ANIMAL TALES
- By Charles G. D. Roberts
-
- ILLUSTRATED BY
- Charles Livingston Bull
- as follows:
-
- The Lord of the Air
- (The Eagle)
-
- The King of the Mamozekel
- (The Moose)
-
- The Watchers of the Camp-fire
- (The Panther)
-
- The Haunter of the Pine Gloom
- (The Lynx)
-
- The Return to the Trails
- (The Bear)
-
- The Little People of the Sycamore
- (The Raccoon)
-
-Each 1 vol., small 12mo, cloth decorative, per volume, $0.50
-
-Realizing the great demand for the animal stories of Professor
-Roberts, one of the masters of nature writers, the publishers have
-selected six representative stories, to be issued separately, at a
-popular price. Each story is illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull,
-and is bound in a handsome decorative cover.
-
-
-
-
- COSY CORNER SERIES
-
-It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall contain
-only the very highest and purest literature,—stories that shall not
-only appeal to the children themselves, but be appreciated by all
-those who feel with them in their joys and sorrows.
-
-The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known artists,
-and each volume has a separate attractive cover design.
-
-Each, 1 vol., 16mo, cloth . . . $0.50
-
-
- By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON
-
-The Little Colonel. (Trade Mark.)
-
-The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine is a small
-girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on account of her fancied
-resemblance to an old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate
-and old family are famous in the region. This old Colonel proves to
-be the grandfather of the child.
-
-The Giant Scissors.
-
-This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in France,—the
-wonderful house with the gate of The Giant Scissors, Jules, her
-little playmate, Sister Denisa, the cruel Brossard, and her dear
-Aunt Kate. Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, and in
-later volumes shares with her the delightful experiences of the
-“House Party” and the “Holidays.”
-
-Two Little Knights of Kentucky, Who Were the Little Colonel’s
-Neighbors.
-
-In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an old friend,
-but with added grace and charm. She is not, however, the central
-figure of the story, that place being taken by the “two little
-knights.”
-
-Cicely and Other Stories for Girls.
-
-The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles will be glad to
-learn of the issue of this volume for young people.
-
-Aunt ’Liza’s Hero and Other Stories.
-
-A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal to all
-boys and most girls.
-
-Big Brother.
-
-A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Steven, himself a
-small boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of the simple tale.
-
-Ole Mammy’s Torment.
-
-“Ole Mammy’s Torment” has been fitly called “a classic of Southern
-life.” It relates the haps and mishaps of a small negro lad, and
-tells how he was led by love and kindness to a knowledge of the
-right.
-
-The Story of Dago.
-
-In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, a pet monkey,
-owned jointly by two brothers. Dago tells his own story, and the
-account of his haps and mishaps is both interesting and amusing.
-
-The Quilt That Jack Built.
-
-A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and how it changed
-the course of his life many years after it was accomplished.
-
-Flip’s Islands of Providence.
-
-A story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat, and his final
-triumph, well worth the reading.
-
-
-
-
- By EDITH ROBINSON
-
-A Little Puritan’s First Christmas.
-
-A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christmas was
-invented by Betty Sewall, a typical child of the Puritans, aided by
-her brother Sam.
-
-A Little Daughter of Liberty.
-
-The author’s motive for this story is well indicated by a quotation
-from her introduction, as follows:
-
-“One ride is memorable in the early history of the American
-Revolution, the well-known ride of Paul Revere. Equally deserving of
-commendation is another ride,—the ride of Anthony Severn,—which was
-no less historic in its action or memorable in its consequences.”
-
-A Loyal Little Maid.
-
-A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary days, in which
-the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders important services to
-George Washington.
-
-A Little Puritan Rebel.
-
-This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time when the
-gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massachusetts.
-
-A Little Puritan Pioneer.
-
-The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement at
-Charlestown. The little girl heroine adds another to the list of
-favorites so well known to the young people.
-
-A Little Puritan Bound Girl.
-
-A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great interest to
-youthful readers.
-
-A Little Puritan Cavalier.
-
-The story of a “Little Puritan Cavalier” who tried with all his
-boyish enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and ideals of the dead
-Crusaders.
-
-
- By MISS MULOCK
-
-The Little Lame Prince.
-
-A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures by means
-of the magic gifts of his fairy godmother.
-
-Adventures of a Brownie.
-
-The story of a household elf who torments the cook and gardener, but
-is a constant joy and delight to the children who love and trust
-him.
-
-His Little Mother.
-
-Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant source of
-delight to them, and “His Little Mother,” in this new and attractive
-dress, will be welcomed by hosts of youthful readers.
-
-Little Sunshine’s Holiday.
-
-An attractive story of a summer outing. “Little Sunshine” is another
-of those beautiful child-characters for which Miss Mulock is so
-justly famous.
-
-
- By JULIANA HORATIA EWING
-
-Jackanapes.
-
-A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite and
-touching story, dear alike to young and old.
-
-Story of a Short Life.
-
-This beautiful and pathetic story will never grow old. It is a part
-of the world’s literature, and will never die.
-
-A Great Emergency.
-
-How a family of children prepared for a great emergency, and how
-they acted when the emergency came.
-
-
- By OUIDA (Louise de la Ramée)
-
-A Dog of Flanders: A Christmas Story.
-
-Too well and favorably known to require description.
-
-The Nurnberg Stove.
-
-This beautiful story has never before been published at a popular
-price.
-
-
- By FRANCES MARGARET FOX
-
-The Little Giant’s Neighbours.
-
-A charming nature story of a “little giant” whose neighbours were
-the creatures of the field and garden.
-
-Farmer Brown and the Birds.
-
-A little story which teaches children that the birds are man’s best
-friends.
-
-Betty of Old Mackinaw.
-
-A charming story of child-life, appealing especially to the little
-readers who like stories of “real people.”
-
-Mother Nature’s Little Ones.
-
-Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, or
-“childhood,” of the little creatures out-of-doors.
-
-How Christmas Came to the Mulvaneys.
-
-A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor children, with
-an unlimited capacity for fun and mischief. The wonderful
-never-to-be-forgotten Christmas that came to them is the climax of a
-series of exciting incidents.
-
-
- By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE
-
-The Farrier’s Dog and His Fellow.
-
-This story, written by the gifted young Southern woman, will appeal
-to all that is best in the natures of the many admirers of her
-graceful and piquant style.
-
-The Fortunes of the Fellow.
-
-Those who read and enjoyed the pathos and charm of “The Farrier’s
-Dog and His Fellow” will welcome the further account of the
-adventures of Baydaw and the Fellow at the home of the kindly smith.
-
-The Best of Friends.
-
-This continues the experiences of the Farrier’s dog and his Fellow,
-written in Miss Dromgoole’s well-known charming style.
-
-Down in Dixie.
-
-A fascinating story for boys and girls, of a family of Alabama
-children who move to Florida and grow up in the South.
-
-
- By MARIAN W. WILDMAN
-
-Loyalty Island.
-
-An account of the adventures of four children and their pet dog on
-an island, and how they cleared their brother from the suspicion of
-dishonesty.
-
-Theodore and Theodora.
-
-This is a story of the exploits and mishaps of two mischievous
-twins, and continues the adventures of the interesting group of
-children in “Loyalty Island.”
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's The Young Section-Hand, by Burton Egbert Stevenson
-
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-Project Gutenberg's The Young Section-Hand, by Burton Egbert Stevenson
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-other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions
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-
-Title: The Young Section-Hand
-
-Author: Burton Egbert Stevenson
-
-Illustrator: L. J. Bridgman
-
-Release Date: August 3, 2020 [EBook #62830]
-
-Language: English
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-Character set encoding: UTF-8
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-*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND ***
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-
-<h1>THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND</h1>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div id='frontis' style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:10.0%; width:80%;'>
- <img src='images/frontis.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-<p class='caption'>“CAUGHT THE CHILD FROM UNDER THE VERY WHEELS OF THE ENGINE”</p>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.4em;'>THE YOUNG</div>
-<div style='font-size:1.4em;margin-bottom:1em;'>SECTION-HAND</div>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-bottom:1em;'><i>By</i> BURTON E. STEVENSON</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>Author of “The Holladay Case,” “Tommy</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;margin-bottom:1em;'>Remington’s Battle,” etc.</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>ILLUSTRATED BY</div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:1em;'>L. J. BRIDGMAN</div>
-</div>
-<div style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:40%; width:20%;'>
- <img src='images/title.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;'>Boston</div>
-<div>L. C. PAGE &amp; COMPANY</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;'>Mdccccv</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;font-style:italic;'>Copyright, 1905</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;font-variant:small-caps;'>By L. C. Page &amp; Company</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>(INCORPORATED)</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;margin-top:0.7em;font-style:italic;'>All rights reserved</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;margin-top:0.7em;'>Published July, 1905</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;margin-top:0.7em;font-style:italic;'>COLONIAL PRESS</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;font-style:italic;'>Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds &amp; Co. </div>
-<div style='font-size:0.9em;font-style:italic;'>Boston, U. S. A. </div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>TO</div>
-<div>E. B. S., G. W. P</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>AND THE OTHER “BOYS” OF YARD</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>AND SHOP AND OFFICE</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>IN MEMORY</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>OF THAT FAR-OFF TIME</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;'>WHEN I “COVERED” THE RAILROAD</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<table class='toc tcenter' summary="" style='margin-bottom:3em'>
-<thead>
- <tr>
- <th colspan='2' style='font-weight:normal;padding-bottom:1em;'>CONTENTS</th>
- </tr>
-</thead>
-<tbody>
- <tr><td class='c1'>I.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chI'>The Bottom Round</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>II.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chII'>A New Experience</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>III.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chIII'>An Adventure and a Story</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>IV.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chIV'>Allan Meets an Enemy</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>V.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chV'>Allan Proves His Metal</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>VI.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chVI'>Reddy to the Rescue</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>VII.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chVII'>The Irish Brigade</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>VIII.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chVIII'>Good News and Bad</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>IX.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chIX'>Reddy’s Exploit</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>X.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chX'>A Summons in the Night</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XI.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXI'>Clearing the Track</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XII.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXII'>Unsung Heroes</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XIII.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXIII'>A New Danger</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XIV.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXIV'>Allan Makes a Discovery</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XV.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXV'>A Shot from Behind</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XVI.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXVI'>A Call to Duty</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XVII.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXVII'>A Night of Danger</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XVIII.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXVIII'>The Signal in the Night</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XIX.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXIX'>Reddy Redivivus</a></td></tr>
- <tr><td class='c1'>XX.</td><td class='c2'><a href='#chXX'>The Road’s Gratitude</a></td></tr>
-</tbody>
-</table>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-bottom:1em;'>ILLUSTRATIONS</div>
-</div>
-<ul style='list-style-type:none; display:table; margin: 0 auto;'>
-<li><a href='#frontis'>“Caught the child from under the very wheels of the engine”</a></li>
-<li><a href='#f044'>“Near at hand it was even more terrifying than at a distance”</a></li>
-<li><a href='#f054'>“He struck suddenly and viciously at the boy’s face”</a></li>
-<li><a href='#f112'>“Snatched the little one into the air just as the engine bore down upon it”</a></li>
-<li><a href='#f128'>“Just in time to escape a large boulder”</a></li>
-<li><a href='#f246'>“He stepped to one side, and ... brought down his club upon the other’s head”</a></li>
-</ul>
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.4em;margin-top:4em;'>THE YOUNG SECTION-HAND</div>
-</div>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chI' title='I: THE BOTTOM ROUND'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER I.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>THE BOTTOM ROUND</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>“Excuse me, sir, but do you need a man?”</p>
-
-<p>Jack Welsh, foreman of Section Twenty-one, on the Ohio division of the
-P. &amp; O., turned sharply around at sound of the voice and inspected the
-speaker for a moment.</p>
-
-<p>“A man, yes,” he said, at last. “But not a boy. This ain’t boy’s work.”</p>
-
-<p>And he bent over again to sight along the rail and make sure that the
-track was quite level.</p>
-
-<p>“Up a little!” he shouted to the gang who had their crowbars under the
-ties some distance ahead.</p>
-
-<p>They heaved at their bars painfully, growing red in the face under the
-strain.</p>
-
-<p>“That’ll do! Now keep it there!”</p>
-
-<p>Some of the men braced themselves and held on to their bars, while
-others hastened to tamp some gravel solidly under the ties to keep them
-in place. The foreman, at leisure for a moment, turned again to the boy,
-who had stood by with downcast face, plainly undecided what to do. Welsh
-had a kindly Irish heart, which not even the irksomeness of section work
-could sour, and he had noted the boy’s fresh face and honest eyes. It
-was not an especially handsome face, yet one worth looking twice at, if
-only for its frankness.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s yer name, sonny?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Allan West.”</p>
-
-<p>“An’ where’d y’ come from?”</p>
-
-<p>“From Cincinnati.”</p>
-
-<p>The foreman looked the boy over again. His clothes were good, but the
-worn, dusty shoes told that the journey of nearly a hundred miles had
-been made on foot. He glanced again at the face—no, the boy was not a
-tramp; it was easy to see he was ambitious and had ideals; he was no
-idler—he would work if he had the chance.</p>
-
-<p>“What made y’ come all that way?” asked Welsh, at last.</p>
-
-<p>“I couldn’t find any work at Cincinnati,” said the boy, and it was
-evident that he was speaking the truth. “There’s too many people there
-out of work now. So I came on to Loveland and Midland City and
-Greenfield, but it’s the same story everywhere. I got some little jobs
-here and there, but nothing permanent. I thought perhaps at Wadsworth—”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” interrupted the foreman. “No, Wadsworth’s th’ same way—dead as a
-doornail. How old’re you?” he asked, suddenly.</p>
-
-<p>“Seventeen. And indeed I’m very strong,” added the boy, eagerly, as he
-caught a gleam of relenting in the other’s eye. “I’m sure I could do the
-work.”</p>
-
-<p>He wanted work desperately; he felt that he had to have it, and he
-straightened instinctively and drew a long breath of hope as he saw the
-foreman examining him more carefully. He had always been glad that he
-was muscular and well-built, but never quite so glad as at this moment.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s mighty hard work,” added Jack, reflectively. “Mighty hard. Do y’
-think y’ could stand it?”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m sure I could, sir,” answered Allan, his face glowing. “Just let me
-try.”</p>
-
-<p>“An’ th’ pay’s only a dollar an’ a quarter a day.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy drew a quick breath.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s more than I’ve ever made regularly, sir,” he said. “I’ve always
-thought myself lucky if I could earn a dollar a day.”</p>
-
-<p>Jack smiled grimly.</p>
-
-<p>“You’ll earn your dollar an’ a quarter all right at this work,” he said.
-“An’ you’ll find it’s mighty little when it comes t’ feedin’ an’
-clothin’ an’ lodgin’ yerself. But you’d like t’ try, would y’?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, indeed!” said Allan.</p>
-
-<p>There could be no doubting his eagerness, and as he looked at him, Jack
-smiled again.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know what th’ road-master’ll say; mebbe he won’t let me keep
-you—I know he won’t if he sees you can’t do th’ work.” He looked down
-the line toward the gang, who stood leaning on their tools, enjoying the
-unusual privilege of a moment’s rest. “But I’m a man short,” he added.
-“I had t’ fire one this mornin’. We’ll try you, anyway. Put your coat
-an’ vest on th’ hand-car over there, git a pick an’ shovel an’ go up
-there with th’ gang.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy flushed with pleasure and hurried away toward the hand-car,
-taking off his coat and vest as he went. He was back again in a moment,
-armed with the tools.</p>
-
-<p>“Reddy, you show him the ropes!” shouted the foreman to one of the men.</p>
-
-<p>“All roight, sir!” answered Reddy, easily distinguishable by the colour
-of his hair. “Come over here, youngster,” he added, as Allan joined the
-group. “Now you watch me, an’ you’ll soon be as good a section-man as
-they is on th’ road.”</p>
-
-<p>The others laughed good-naturedly, then bent to work again,
-straightening the track. For this thing of steel and oak which bound the
-East to the West, and which, at first glance, would seem to have been
-built, like the Roman roads of old, to last for ever, was in constant
-need of attention. The great rails were of the toughest steel that forge
-could make; the ties were of the best and soundest oak; the gravel which
-served as ballast lay under them a foot deep and extended a foot on
-either side; the road-bed was as solid as the art of man could make it,
-pounded, tamped, and rolled, until it seemed strong as the eternal
-hills.</p>
-
-<p>Yet it did not endure. For every hour of the day there swept over it,
-pounding at it, the monstrous freight locomotives, weighing a hundred
-tons, marvels of strength and power, pulling long lines of heavy cars,
-laden with coal and iron and grain, hurrying to give the Old World of
-the abundance of the New. And every hour, too, there flashed over it, at
-a speed almost lightning-like, the through passenger trains—the engines
-slim, supple, panting, thoroughbred; the lumbering mail-cars and day
-coaches; the luxurious Pullmans far heavier than any freight-car.</p>
-
-<p>Day and night these thousands of tons hurled themselves along the rails,
-tearing at them at every curve, pounding them at every joint. Small
-wonder that they sometimes gave and spread, or broke short off,
-especially in zero weather, under the great pressure. Then, too, the
-thaws of spring loosened the road-bed and softened it; freshets
-undermined it and sapped the foundations of bridge and culvert. A
-red-hot cinder from the firebox, dropped on a wooden trestle, might
-start a disastrous blaze. And the least defect meant, perhaps, the loss
-of a score of lives.</p>
-
-<p>So every day, over the whole length of the line, gangs of section-men
-went up and down, putting in a new tie here, replacing a defective rail
-there, tightening bolts, straightening the track, clearing the ditches
-along the road of water lest it seep under the road-bed and soften it;
-doing a thousand and one things that only a section-foreman would think
-needful. And all this that passengers and freight alike might go in
-safety to their destinations; that the road, at the year’s end, might
-declare a dividend.</p>
-
-<p>There was nothing spectacular about their work; there was no romance
-connected with it. The passengers who caught a glimpse of them, as the
-train flashed by, never gave them a second thought. Their clothes were
-always tom and soiled; their hands hard and rough; the tugging at the
-bars had pulled their shoulders over into an ungraceful stoop; almost
-always they had the haggard, patient look of men who labour beyond their
-strength. But they were cogs in the great machine, just as important, in
-their way, as the big fly-wheel of a superintendent in the general
-offices; more important, sometimes, for the superintendent took frequent
-vacations, but the section work could not be neglected for a single day.</p>
-
-<p>Allan West soon discovered what soul-racking work it was. To raise the
-rigid track a fraction of an inch required that muscles be strained to
-bursting. To replace a tie was a task that tried every nerve and sinew.
-The sun beat down upon them mercilessly, bringing out the sweat in
-streams. But the boy kept at it bravely, determined to do his part and
-hold the place if he could. He was under a good teacher, for Reddy,
-otherwise Timothy Magraw, was a thorough-going section-hand. He knew his
-work inside and out, and it was only a characteristic Irish
-carelessness, a certain unreliability, that kept him in the ranks,
-where, indeed, he was quite content to stay.</p>
-
-<p>“Oi d’ want nothin’ else,” he would say. “Oi does me wor-rk, an’ draws
-me pay, an’ goes home an’ goes t’ sleep, with niver a thing t’ worrit
-me; while Welsh there’s a tossin’ aroun’ thinkin’ o’ what’s before him.
-Reespons’bility—that’s th’ thing Oi can’t stand.”</p>
-
-<p>On the wages he drew as section-hand—and with the assistance, in summer,
-of a little “truck-patch” back of his house—he managed to keep himself
-and his wife and numerous children clothed; they had enough to eat and a
-place to sleep, and they were all as happy as possible. So that, in this
-case, Reddy’s philosophy seemed not a half-bad one. Certainly this
-freedom from responsibility left him in perpetual good-humour that
-lightened the work for the whole gang and made the hours pass more
-swiftly. Under his direction, the boy soon learned just what was
-expected of him, and even drew a word of commendation from his teacher.</p>
-
-<p>“But don’t try to do the work all by yourself, me b’y,” he cautioned,
-noting Allan’s eagerness. “We’re all willing t’ help a little. If y’ try
-t’ lift that track by yerself, ye’ll wrinch y’r back, an’ll be laid up
-fer a week.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan laughed and coloured a little at this good-natured raillery.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll try not to do more than my share,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s roight!” approved Reddy, with a nod. “Whin each man does his
-share, why, th’ wor-rk goes along stiddy an’ aisy. It’s whin we gits a
-shirker on th’ gang like that there Dan Nolan—”</p>
-
-<p>A chorus of low growls from the other men interrupted him. Nolan,
-evidently, was not a popular person.</p>
-
-<p>“Who was he?” asked Allan, at the next breathing-spell.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s th’ lazy hound that Jack fired from th’ gang this mornin’,”
-answered Reddy, his blue eyes blazing with unaccustomed wrath. “He’s a
-reg’lar bad ’un, he is. We used t’ think he was workin’ like anything,
-he’d git so red in th’ face, but come t’ find out he had a trick o’
-holdin’ his breath t’ make hisself look that way. He was allers
-shirkin’, an’ when he had it in fer a feller, no trick was too mean or
-dir-rty fer him t’ try. Y’ remimber, boys, whin he dropped that rail on
-poor Tom Collins’s foot?”</p>
-
-<p>The gang murmured an angry assent, and bent to their work again. Rod by
-rod they worked their way down the track, lifting, straining, tamping
-down the gravel. Occasionally a train thundered past, and they stood
-aside, leaning on their tools, glad of the moment’s rest. At last, away
-in the distance, Allan caught the faint sound of blowing whistles and
-ringing bells. The foreman took out his watch, looked at it, and closed
-it with a snap.</p>
-
-<p>“Come on, boys,” he said. “It’s dinner-time!”</p>
-
-<p>They went back together to the hand-car at the side of the road, which
-was their base of supplies, and slowly got out their dinner-pails. Allan
-was sent with a bucket to a farmhouse a quarter of a mile away to get
-some fresh water, and, when he returned, he found the men already busy
-with their food. They drank the cool water eagerly, for the hot sun had
-given them a burning thirst.</p>
-
-<p>“Set down here,” said the foreman, “an’ dip in with me. I’ve got enough
-fer three men.”</p>
-
-<p>And Allan sat down right willingly, for his stomach was protesting
-loudly against its continued state of emptiness. Never did cheese, fried
-ham, boiled eggs, bread, butter, and apple pie taste better. The
-compartment in the top of the dinner-pail was filled with coffee, but a
-share of this the boy declined, for he had never acquired a taste for
-that beverage. At last he settled back with a long sigh of content.</p>
-
-<p>“That went t’ th’ right place, didn’t it?” asked Jack, with twinkling
-eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“That it did!” assented Allan, heartily. “I don’t know what I’d have
-done if you hadn’t taken pity on me,” he added. “I was simply starving.”</p>
-
-<p>“You had your breakfast this mornin’, didn’t y’?” demanded Jack,
-sharply.</p>
-
-<p>Allan coloured a little under his fierce gaze.</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir, I didn’t,” he said, rather hoarsely. “I couldn’t find any work
-to do, and I—I couldn’t beg!”</p>
-
-<p>Jack looked at him without speaking, but his eyes were suspiciously
-bright.</p>
-
-<p>“So you see, I just had to have this job,” Allan went on. “And now that
-I’ve got it, I’m going to do my best to keep it!”</p>
-
-<p>Jack turned away for a moment, before he could trust himself to speak.</p>
-
-<p>“I like your grit,” he said, at last. “It’s th’ right kind. An’ you
-won’t have any trouble keepin’ your job. But, man alive, why didn’t y’
-tell me y’ was hungry? Jest a hint would ’a’ been enough! Why, th’
-wife’ll never fergive me when she hears about it!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh,” protested Allan, “I couldn’t—”</p>
-
-<p>He stopped without finishing the sentence.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I’ll fergive y’ this time,” said Jack. “Are y’ sure y’ve ate all
-y’ kin hold?”</p>
-
-<p>“Every mite,” Allan assured him, his heart warming toward the friendly,
-weather-beaten face that looked at him so kindly. “I couldn’t eat
-another morsel!”</p>
-
-<p>“All right, then; we’ll see that it don’t occur ag’in,” said Jack,
-putting the cover on his pail, and then stretching out in an easier
-position. “Now, d’ y’ want a stiddy job here?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“If I can get it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I guess y’ kin git it, all right. But how about your home?”</p>
-
-<p>“I haven’t any home,” and the boy gazed out across the fields, his lips
-quivering a little despite his efforts to keep them still.</p>
-
-<p>The foreman looked at him for a moment. There was something in the face
-that moved him, and he held out his hand impulsively.</p>
-
-<p>“Here, shake!” he said. “I’m your friend.”</p>
-
-<p>The boy put his hand in the great, rough palm extended to him, but he
-did not speak—his throat was too full for that.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, if you’re goin’ t’ stay,” went on the other, “you’ve got t’ have
-some place t’ board. I’ll board an’ room y’ fer three dollars a week. It
-won’t be like Delmonicer’s, but y’ won’t starve—y’ll git yer three
-square meals a day. That’ll leave y’ four-fifty a week fer clothes an’
-things. How’ll that suit y’?”</p>
-
-<p>The boy looked at him gratefully.</p>
-
-<p>“You are very kind,” he said, huskily. “I’m sure it’s worth more than
-three dollars a week.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, it ain’t—not a cent more. Well, that’s settled. Some day, maybe,
-you’ll feel like tellin’ me about yerself. I’d like to hear it. But not
-now—wait till y’ git used t’ me.”</p>
-
-<p>A freight-train, flying two dirty white flags, to show that it was
-running extra and not on a definite schedule, rumbled by, and the
-train-crew waved their caps at the section-men, who responded in kind.
-The engineer leaned far out the cab window and shouted something, but
-his voice was lost in the roar of the train.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s Bill Morrison,” observed Jack, when the train was past. “There
-ain’t a finer engineer on th’ road. Two year ago he run into a washout
-down here at Oak Furnace. He seen it in time t’ jump, but he told his
-fireman t’ jump instead, and he stuck to her an’ tried to stop her. They
-found him in th’ ditch under th’ engine, with his leg mashed an’ his arm
-broke an’ his head cut open. He opened his eyes fer a minute as they was
-draggin’ him out, an’ what d’ y’ think he says?”</p>
-
-<p>Jack paused a moment, while Allan listened breathlessly, with
-fast-beating heart.</p>
-
-<p>“He says, ‘Flag Number Three!’ says he, an’ then dropped off senseless
-ag’in. They’d forgot all about Number Three, th’ fastest passenger-train
-on th’ road, an’ she’d have run into them as sure as shootin’, if it
-hadn’t been fer Bill. Well, sir, they hurried out a flagman an’ stopped
-her jest in time, an’ you ort t’ seen them passengers when they heard
-about Bill! They all went up t’ him where he was layin’ pale-like an’
-bleedin’ on th’ ground, an’ they was mighty few of th’ men but what was
-blowin’ their noses; an’ as fer the women, they jest naturally slopped
-over! Well, they thought Bill was goin’ t’ die, but he pulled through.
-Yes, he’s still runnin’ freight—he’s got t’ wait his turn fer promotion;
-that’s th’ rule o’ th’ road. But he’s got th’ finest gold watch y’ ever
-seen; them passengers sent it t’ him; an’ right in th’ middle of th’
-case it says, ‘Flag Number Three.’”</p>
-
-<p>Jack stopped and looked out over the landscape, more affected by his own
-story than he cared to show.</p>
-
-<p>As for Allan, he gazed after the fast disappearing train as though it
-were an emperor’s triumphal car.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chII' title='II: A NEW EXPERIENCE'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER II.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>A NEW EXPERIENCE</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>“When I was a kid,” continued Welsh, reminiscently, after a moment, “I
-was foolish, like all other kids. I thought they wasn’t nothin’ in th’
-world so much fun as railroadin’. I made up my mind t’ be a brakeman,
-fer I thought all a brakeman had t’ do was t’ set out on top of a car,
-with his legs a-hangin’ over, an’ see th’ country, an’ wave his hat at
-th’ girls, an’ chase th’ boys off th’ platform, an’ order th’ engineer
-around by shakin’ his hand at him. Gee whiz!” and he laughed and slapped
-his leg. “It tickles me even yet t’ think what an ijit I was!”</p>
-
-<p>“Did you try braking?” asked Allan.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes—I tried it,” and Welsh’s eyes twinkled; “but I soon got enough.
-Them wasn’t th’ days of air-brakes, an’ I tell you they was mighty
-little fun in runnin’ along th’ top of a train in th’ dead o’ winter
-when th’ cars was covered with ice an’ th’ wind blowin’ fifty mile an
-hour. They wasn’t no automatic couplers, neither; a man had t’ go right
-in between th’ cars t’ drop in th’ pin, an’ th’ engineer never seemed t’
-care how hard he backed down on a feller. After about six months of it,
-I come t’ th’ conclusion that section-work was nearer my size. It ain’t
-so excitin’, an’ a man don’t make quite so much money; but he’s sure o’
-gettin’ home t’ his wife when th’ day’s work’s over, an’ of havin’ all
-his legs an’ arms with him. That counts fer a whole lot, I tell yer!”</p>
-
-<p>He had got out a little black pipe as he talked, and filled it with
-tobacco from a paper sack. Then he applied a lighted match to the bowl
-and sent a long whiff of purple smoke circling upwards.</p>
-
-<p>“There!” he said, leaning back with a sigh of ineffable content. “That’s
-better—that’s jest th’ dessert a man wants. You don’t smoke, I guess?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” and Allan shook his head.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I reckon you’re as well off—better off, maybe; but I begun
-smokin’ when I was knee high to a duck.”</p>
-
-<p>“You were telling me about that engineer,” prompted Allan, hoping for
-another story. “Are there any more like him?”</p>
-
-<p>“Plenty more!” answered Jack, vigorously. “Why, nine engineers out o’
-ten would ’a’ done jest what he done. It comes nat’ral, after a feller’s
-worked on th’ road awhile. Th’ road comes t’ be more t’ him than wife ’r
-childer—it gits t’ be a kind o’ big idol thet he bows down an’ worships;
-an’ his engine’s a little idol thet he thinks more of than he does of
-his home. When he ain’t workin’, instead of stayin’ at home an’ weedin’
-his garden, or playin’ with his childer, he’ll come down t’ th’
-roundhouse an’ pet his engine, an’ polish her up, an’ walk around her
-an’ look at her, an’ try her valves an’ watch th’ stokers t’ see thet
-they clean her out proper. An’ when she wears out ’r breaks down, why,
-you’d think he’d lost his best friend. There was old Cliff Gudgeon. He
-had a swell passenger run on th’ east end; but when they got t’ puttin’
-four ’r five sleepers on his train, his old engine was too light t’ git
-over th’ road on time, so they give him a new one—a great big one—a
-beauty. An’ what did Cliff do? Well, sir, he said he was too old t’
-learn th’ tricks of another engine, an’ he’d stick to his old one, an’
-he’s runnin’ a little accommodation train up here on th’ Hillsboro
-branch at seventy-five a month, when he might ’a’ been makin’ twict that
-a-handlin’ th’ Royal Blue. Then, there’s Reddy Magraw—now, t’ look at
-Reddy, y’ wouldn’t think he was anything but a chuckle-headed Irishman.
-Yet, six year ago—”</p>
-
-<p>Reddy had caught the sound of his name, and looked up suddenly.</p>
-
-<p>“Hey, Jack, cut it out!” he called.</p>
-
-<p>Welsh laughed good-naturedly.</p>
-
-<p>“All right!” he said. “He’s th’ most modest man in th’ world, is Reddy.
-But they ain’t all that way. There’s Dan Nolan,” and Jack’s face
-darkened. “I had him on th’ gang up till this mornin’, but I couldn’t
-stan’ him no longer, so I jest fired him. That’s th’ reason there was a
-place fer you, m’ boy.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” said Allan, “Reddy was telling me about him. What was it he did?”</p>
-
-<p>“He didn’t do anything,” laughed Jack. “That was th’ trouble. He was
-jest naturally lazy—sneakin’ lazy an’ mean. There’s jest two things a
-railroad asks of its men—you might as well learn it now as any time—they
-must be on hand when they’re needed, an’ they must be willin’ t’ work.
-As long as y’re stiddy an’ willin’ t’ work, y’ won’t have no trouble
-holdin’ a job on a railroad.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan looked out across the fields and determined that in these two
-respects, at least, he would not be found wanting. He glanced at the
-other group, gossiping together in the shade of a tree. They were not
-attractive-looking, certainly, but he was beginning to learn already
-that a man may be brave and honest, whatever his appearance. They were
-laughing at one of Reddy’s jokes, and Allan looked at him with a new
-respect, wondering what it was he had done. The foreman watched the
-boy’s face with a little smile, reading his thoughts.</p>
-
-<p>“He ain’t much t’ look at, is he?” he said. “But you’ll soon learn—if
-you ain’t learnt already—that you can’t judge a man’s inside by his
-outside. There’s no place you’ll learn it quicker than on a railroad.
-Railroad men, barrin’ th’ passenger train crews, who have t’ keep
-themselves spruced up t’ hold their jobs, ain’t much t’ look at, as a
-rule, but down at th’ bottom of most of them there allers seems t’ be a
-<i>man</i>—a real man—a man who don’t lose his head when he sees death
-a-starin’ him in th’ face, but jest grits his teeth an’ sticks to his
-post an’ does his duty. Railroad men ain’t little tin gods nor plaster
-saints—fur from it!—but they’re worth a mighty sight more than either.
-There was Jim Blakeson, th’ skinniest, lankest, most woe-begone-lookin’
-feller I ever see outside of a circus. He was brakin’ front-end one
-night on third ninety-eight, an’—”</p>
-
-<p>From afar off came the faint blowing of whistles, telling that, in the
-town of Wadsworth, the wheels in the factories had started up again,
-that men and women were bending again to their tasks, after the brief
-noon hour. Welsh stopped abruptly, much to Allan’s disappointment,
-knocked out his pipe against his boot-heel, and rose quickly to his
-feet. If there was one article in Welsh’s code of honour which stood
-before all the rest, it was this: That the railroad which employed him
-should have the full use of the ten hours a day for which it paid. To
-waste any part of that time was to steal the railroad’s money. It is a
-good principle for any man—or for any boy—to cling to.</p>
-
-<p>“One o’clock!” he cried. “Come on, boys! We’ve got a good stretch o’
-track to finish up down there.”</p>
-
-<p>The dinner-pails were replaced on the hand-car and it was run down the
-road about half a mile and then derailed again. The straining work
-began; tugging at the bars, tamping gravel under the ties, driving new
-spikes, replacing a fish-plate here and there. And the new hand learned
-many things.</p>
-
-<p>He learned that with the advent of the great, modern, ten-wheeled
-freight locomotives, all the rails on the line had been replaced with
-heavier ones weighing eighty-five pounds to the yard,—850 pounds to
-their thirty feet of length,—the old ones being too light to carry such
-enormous weights with safety. They were called T-rails, because, in
-cross-section, they somewhat resembled that letter. The top of the rail
-is the “head”; the thinner stem, the “web”; and the wide, flat bottom,
-the “base.” Besides being spiked down to the ties, which are first
-firmly bedded in gravel or crushed stone, the rails are bolted together
-at the ends with iron bars called “fish-plates.” These are fitted to the
-web, one on each side of the junction of two rails, and bolts are then
-passed through them and nuts screwed on tightly.</p>
-
-<p>This work of joining the rails is done with such nicety, and the
-road-bed built so solidly, that there is no longer such a great rattle
-and bang as the trains pass over them—a rattle and bang formerly as
-destructive to the track as to the nerves of the passenger. It is the
-duty of the section-foreman to see that the six or eight miles of track
-which is under his supervision is kept in the best possible shape, and
-to inspect it from end to end twice daily, to guard against any
-possibility of accident.</p>
-
-<p>As the hours passed, Allan’s muscles began to ache sadly, but there were
-few chances to rest. At last the foreman perceived that he was
-overworking himself, and sent him and Reddy back to bring up the
-hand-car and prepare for the homeward trip. They walked back to where it
-stood, rolled it out upon the track, and pumped it down to the spot
-where the others were working, Reddy giving Allan his first lesson in
-how to work the levers, for there is a right and wrong way of managing a
-hand-car, just as there is a right and wrong way of doing everything
-else.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s about all we kin do to-day,” and Jack took out his watch and
-looked at it reflectively, as the car came rolling up. “I guess we kin
-git in before Number Six comes along. What y’ think?” and he looked at
-Reddy.</p>
-
-<p>“How much time we got?” asked the latter, for only the foreman of the
-gang could afford to carry a watch.</p>
-
-<p>“Twelve minutes.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s aisy! We kin make it in eight without half-tryin’!”</p>
-
-<p>“All right!” and Jack thrust the watch back into his pocket. “Pile on,
-boys!”</p>
-
-<p>And pile on they did, bringing their tools with them. They seized the
-levers, and in a moment the car was spinning down the track. There was
-something fascinating and invigorating in the motion. As they pumped up
-and down, Allan could see the fields, fences, and telegraph-poles
-rushing past them. It seemed to him that they were going faster even
-than the “flier.” The wind whistled against him and the car jolted back
-and forth in an alarming way.</p>
-
-<p>“Hold tight!” yelled Reddy, and they flashed around a curve, across a
-high trestle, through a deep cut, and down a long grade on the other
-side. Away ahead he could see the chimneys of the town nestling among
-the trees. They were down the grade in a moment, and whirling along an
-embankment that bordered a wide and placid river, when the car gave a
-sudden, violent jolt, ran for fifty feet on three wheels, and then
-settled down on the track again.</p>
-
-<p>“Stop her!” yelled the foreman. “Stop her!”</p>
-
-<p>They strained at the levers, but the car seemed alive and sprang away
-from them. Twice she almost shook them off, then sullenly succumbed, and
-finally stopped.</p>
-
-<p>“Somethin’s th’ matter back there!” panted Jack. “Give her a shove,
-Reddy!”</p>
-
-<p>Reddy jumped off and started her back up the track. In a moment the
-levers caught, and they were soon at the place where the jolt had
-occurred.</p>
-
-<p>The foreman sprang off and for an instant bent over the track. Then he
-straightened up with stern face.</p>
-
-<p>“Quick!” he cried. “Jerk that car off th’ track and bring two
-fish-plates an’ some spikes. West, take that flag, run up th’ track as
-far as y’ kin, an’ flag Number Six. Mind, don’t stop runnin’ till y’ see
-her. She’ll have her hands full stoppin’ on that grade.”</p>
-
-<p>With beating heart Allan seized the flag and ran up the track as fast as
-his legs would carry him. The thought that the lives of perhaps a
-hundred human beings depended upon him set his hands to trembling and
-his heart to beating wildly. On and on he went, until his breath came in
-gasps and his head sang. It seemed that he must have covered a mile at
-least, yet it was only a few hundred feet. And then, away ahead, he saw
-the train flash into sight around the curve and come hurtling down the
-grade toward him.</p>
-
-<p>He shook loose the flag and waved it wildly over his head, still running
-forward. He even shouted, not realizing how puny his voice was. The
-engine grew larger and larger with amazing swiftness. He could hear the
-roar of the wheels; a shaft of steam leaped into the air, and, an
-instant later, the wind brought him the sound of a shrill whistle. He
-saw the engineer leaning from his window, and, with a great sob of
-relief, knew that he had been seen. He had just presence of mind to
-spring from the track, and the train passed him, the wheels grinding and
-shrieking under the pressure of the air-brakes, the drivers of the
-engine whirling madly backwards. He caught a glimpse of startled
-passengers peering from the windows, and then the train was past. But it
-was going slower and slower, and stopped at last with a jerk.</p>
-
-<p>When he reached the place, he found Jack explaining to the conductor
-about the broken fish-plates and the loose rail. What had caused it
-could not be told with certainty—the expansion from the heat, perhaps,
-or the vibration from a heavy freight that had passed half an hour
-before, or a defect in the plates, which inspection had not revealed.
-Allan sat weakly down upon the overturned hand-car. No one paid any heed
-to him, and he was astonished that they treated the occurrence so
-lightly. Jack and the engineer were joking together. Only the conductor
-seemed worried, and that was because the delay would throw his train a
-few minutes late.</p>
-
-<p>Half a dozen of the passengers, who had been almost hurled from their
-seats by the suddenness of the stop, came hurrying up. All along the
-line of coaches windows had been raised, and white, anxious faces were
-peering out. Inside the coaches, brakemen and porters were busy picking
-up the packages that had been thrown from the racks, and reassuring the
-frightened people.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the matter?” gasped one of the passengers, a tall, thin,
-nervous-looking man, as soon as he reached the conductor’s side.
-“Nothing serious, I hope? There’s no danger, is there? My wife and
-children are back there—”</p>
-
-<p>The conductor smiled at him indulgently.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s no danger at all, my dear sir,” he interrupted. “The
-section-gang here flagged us until they could bolt this rail down. That
-is all.”</p>
-
-<p>“But,” protested the man, looking around for sympathy, and obviously
-anxious not to appear unduly alarmed, “do you usually throw things about
-that way when you stop?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said the conductor, smiling again; “but you see we were on a heavy
-down-grade, and going pretty fast. I’d advise you gentlemen to get back
-into the train at once,” he added, glancing at his watch again. “We’ll
-be starting in a minute or two.”</p>
-
-<p>The little group of passengers walked slowly back and disappeared into
-the train. Allan, looking after them, caught his first glimpse of one
-side of railroad policy—a policy which minimizes every danger, which
-does its utmost to keep every peril from the knowledge of its patrons—a
-wise policy, since nervousness will never add to safety. Away up the
-track he saw the brakeman, who had been sent back as soon as the train
-stopped, to prevent the possibility of a rear-end collision, and he
-understood dimly something of the wonderful system which guards the
-safety of the trains.</p>
-
-<p>Then, suddenly, he realized that he was not working, that his place was
-with that little group labouring to repair the track, and he sprang to
-his feet, but at that instant Jack stood back with a sigh of relief and
-turned to the conductor.</p>
-
-<p>“All right,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>The conductor raised his hand, a sharp whistle recalled the brakeman,
-who came down the track on a run; the engineer opened his throttle;
-there was a long hiss of escaping steam, and the train started slowly.
-As it passed him, Allan could see the passengers settling back
-contentedly in their seats, the episode already forgotten. In a moment
-the train was gone, growing rapidly smaller away down the track ahead of
-them. A few extra spikes were driven in to further strengthen the place,
-and the hand-car was run out on the track again.</p>
-
-<p>“Y’ made pretty good time,” said Jack to the boy; and then, as he saw
-his white face, he added, “Kind o’ winded y’, didn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>Allan nodded, and climbed silently to his place on the car.</p>
-
-<p>“Shook y’r nerve a little, too, I reckon,” added Jack, as the car
-started slowly. “But y’ mustn’t mind a little thing like that, m’ boy.
-It’s all in th’ day’s work.”</p>
-
-<p>All in the day’s work! The flagging of a train was an ordinary incident
-in the lives of these men. There had, perhaps, been no great danger, yet
-the boy caught his breath as he recalled that fearful moment when the
-train rushed down upon him. All in the day’s work—for which the road
-paid a dollar and a quarter!</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chIII' title='III: AN ADVENTURE AND A STORY'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER III.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>AN ADVENTURE AND A STORY</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>Jack Welsh, section-foreman, lived in a little frame house perched high
-on an embankment just back of the railroad yards. The bank had been left
-there when the yards had been levelled down, and the railroad company,
-always anxious to promote habits of sobriety and industry in its men,
-and knowing that no influence makes for such habits as does the
-possession of a home, had erected a row of cottages along the top of the
-embankment, and offered them on easy terms to its employés. They weren’t
-palatial—they weren’t even particularly attractive—but they were homes.</p>
-
-<p>In front, the bank dropped steeply down to the level of the yards, but
-behind they sloped more gently, so that each of the cottages had a yard
-ample for a vegetable garden. To attend to this was the work of the wife
-and the children—a work which always yielded a bountiful reward.</p>
-
-<p>There were six cottages in the row, but one was distinguished from the
-others in summer by a mass of vines which clambered over it, and a
-garden of sweet-scented flowers which occupied the little front yard.
-This was Welsh’s, and he never mounted toward it without a feeling of
-pride and a quick rush of affection for the little woman who found time,
-amid all her household duties, to add her mite to the world’s beauty. As
-he glanced at the other yards, with their litter of trash and broken
-playthings, he realized, more keenly perhaps than most of us do, what a
-splendid thing it is to render our little corner of the world more
-beautiful, instead of making it uglier, as human beings have a way of
-doing.</p>
-
-<p>It was toward this little vine-embowered cottage that Jack and Allan
-turned their steps, as soon as the hand-car and tools had been deposited
-safely in the little section shanty. As they neared the house, a midget
-in blue calico came running down the path toward them.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s Mamie,” said Welsh, his face alight with tenderness; and, as the
-child swept down upon him, he seized her, kissed her, and swung her to
-his shoulder, where she sat screaming in triumph.</p>
-
-<p>They mounted the path so, and, at the door, Mrs. Welsh, a little, plump,
-black-eyed woman, met them.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve brought you a boarder, Mary,” said Welsh, setting Mamie down upon
-her sturdy little legs. “Allan West’s his name. I took him on th’ gang
-to-day, an’ told him he might come here till he found some place he
-liked better.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s right!” and Mrs. Welsh held out her hand in hearty welcome,
-pleased with the boy’s frank face. “We’ll try t’ make you comf’terble,”
-she added. “You’re a little late, Jack.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, we had t’ stop t’ fix a break,” he answered; and he told her in a
-few words the story of the broken fish-plates. “It don’t happen often,”
-he added, “but y’ never know when t’ expect it.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, y’ never do,” agreed Mary, her face clouding for an instant, then
-clearing with true Irish optimism. “You’ll find th’ wash-basin out there
-on th’ back porch, m’ boy,” she added to Allan, and he hastened away to
-cleanse himself, so far as soap and water could do it, of the marks of
-the day’s toil.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Welsh turned again to her husband as soon as the boy was out of
-ear-shot.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’d you pick him up, Jack?” she asked. “He ain’t no common tramp.”</p>
-
-<p>“Not a bit of it,” agreed her husband. “He looks like a nice boy. He
-jest come along an’ wanted a job. He said he’d come from Cincinnati, an’
-hadn’t any home; but he didn’t seem t’ want t’ talk about hisself.”</p>
-
-<p>“No home!” repeated Mary, her heart warming with instant sympathy. “Poor
-boy! We’ll have t’ look out fer him, Jack.”</p>
-
-<p>“I knew you’d say that, darlint!” cried her husband, and gave her a
-hearty hug.</p>
-
-<p>“Go ’long with you!” cried Mary, trying in vain to speak sternly. “I
-smell th’ meat a-burnin’!” and she disappeared into the kitchen, while
-Jack joined Allan on the back porch.</p>
-
-<p>How good the cool, clean water felt, splashed over hands and face; what
-a luxury it was to scrub with the thick lather of the soap, and then
-rinse off in a brimming basin of clear water; how delicious it was to be
-clean again! Jack dipped his whole head deep into the basin, and then,
-after a vigorous rubbing with the towel, took his station before a
-little glass and brushed his black hair until it presented a surface
-almost as polished as the mirror’s own.</p>
-
-<p>Then Mamie came with the summons to supper, and they hurried in to it,
-for ten hours’ work on section will make even a confirmed dyspeptic
-hungry—yes, and give him power properly to digest his food.</p>
-
-<p>How pretty the table looked, with its white cloth and shining dishes!
-For Mary was a true Irish housewife, with a passion for cleanliness and
-a pride in her home. It was growing dark, and a lamp had been lighted
-and placed in the middle of the board, making it look bright and cosy.</p>
-
-<p>“You set over there, m’ boy,” said Mary, herself taking the housewife’s
-inevitable place behind the coffee-pot, with her husband opposite. “Now,
-Mamie, you behave yourself,” she added, for Mamie was peeping around the
-lamp at Allan with roguish eyes. “We’re all hungry, Jack, so don’t keep
-us waitin’.”</p>
-
-<p>And Jack didn’t.</p>
-
-<p>How good the food smelt, and how good it tasted! Allan relished it more
-than he would have done any dinner of “Delmonicer’s,” for Mary was one
-of the best of cooks, and only the jaded palate relishes the sauces and
-fripperies of French chefs.</p>
-
-<p>“A girl as can’t cook ain’t fit t’ marry,” Mary often said; a maxim
-which she had inherited from her mother, and would doubtless hand down
-to Mamie. “There’s nothin’ that’ll break up a home quicker ’n a bad
-cook, an’ nothin’ that’ll make a man happier ’n a good one.”</p>
-
-<p>Certainly, if cooking were a test, this supper was proof enough of her
-fitness for the state of matrimony. There was a great platter of ham and
-eggs, fluffy biscuits, and the sweetest of yellow butter. And, since he
-did not drink coffee, Allan was given a big glass of fragrant milk to
-match Mamie’s. They were tasting one of the best sweets of toil—to sit
-down with appetite to a table well-laden.</p>
-
-<p>After supper, they gathered on the front porch, and sat looking down
-over the busy, noisy yards. The switch-lamps gleamed in long rows, red
-and green and white, telling which tracks were open and which closed.
-The yard-engines ran fussily up and down, shifting the freight-cars back
-and forth, and arranging them in trains to be sent east or west. Over by
-the roundhouse, engines were being run in on the big turntable and from
-there into the stalls, where they would be furbished up and overhauled
-for the next trip. Others were being brought out, tanks filled with
-water, and tenders heaped high with coal, ready for the run to
-Parkersburg or Cincinnati. They seemed almost human in their impatience
-to be off—breathing deeply in loud pants, the steam now and then
-throwing up the safety-valve and “popping off” with a great noise.</p>
-
-<p>The clamour, the hurry, the rush of work, never ceasing from dawn to
-dawn, gave the boy a dim understanding of the importance of this great
-corporation which he had just begun to serve. He was only a very little
-cog in the vast machine, to be sure, but the smoothness of its running
-depended upon the little cogs no less than on the big ones.</p>
-
-<p>A man’s figure, indistinct in the twilight, stopped at the gate below
-and whistled.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s Reddy Magraw,” said Jack, with a laugh. “I’d forgot—it was so
-hot t’-day, we thought we’d go over t’ th’ river an’ take a dip
-t’-night. Do you know how t’ swim, Allan?”</p>
-
-<p>“Just a little,” answered Allan; “all I know about it was picked up in
-the swimming-pool at the gymnasium at Cincinnati.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it’s time y’ learned more,” said Jack. “Every boy ought t’ know
-how t’ swim—mebbe some day not only his own life but the lives o’ some
-o’ his women-folks’ll depend on him. Come along, an’ we’ll give y’ a
-lesson.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll be glad to!” Allan cried, and ran indoors for his hat.</p>
-
-<p>Reddy whistled again.</p>
-
-<p>“We’re comin’,” called Jack. “We won’t be gone long,” he added to his
-wife, as they started down the path.</p>
-
-<p>“All right, dear,” she answered. “An’ take good care o’ th’ boy.”</p>
-
-<p>Reddy greeted Allan warmly, and thoroughly agreed with Jack that it was
-every boy’s duty to learn how to swim. Together they started off briskly
-toward the river—across the yards, picking their way carefully over the
-maze of tracks, then along the railroad embankment which skirted the
-stream, and finally through a corn-field to the water’s edge. The river
-looked very wide and still in the semidarkness, and Allan shivered a
-little as he looked at it; but the feeling passed in a moment. Reddy had
-his clothes off first, and dived in with a splash; Jack waded in to show
-Allan the depth. The boy followed, with sudden exhilaration, as he felt
-the cool water rise about him.</p>
-
-<p>“This is different from a swimmin’-pool, ain’t it?” said Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed it is!” agreed Allan; “and a thousand times nicer!”</p>
-
-<p>“Now,” added Jack, “let me give you a lesson,” and he proceeded to
-instruct Allan in the intricacies of the broad and powerful breast
-stroke.</p>
-
-<p>The boy was an apt pupil, and at the end of twenty minutes had mastered
-it sufficiently to be able to make fair progress through the water. He
-would have kept on practising, but Jack stopped him.</p>
-
-<p>“We’ve been in long enough,” he said; “you mustn’t overdo it. Come
-along, Reddy,” he called to that worthy, who was disporting himself out
-in the middle of the current.</p>
-
-<p>As they turned toward the shore the full moon peeped suddenly over a
-little hill on the eastern horizon, and cast a broad stream of silver
-light across the water, touching every ripple and little wave with magic
-beauty.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, look!” cried Allan. “Look!”</p>
-
-<p>They stood and watched the moon until it sailed proudly above the hill,
-and then waded to the bank, rubbed themselves down briskly, and resumed
-their clothes, cleansed and purified in spirit as well as body. They
-made their way back through the corn-field, but just as they reached the
-embankment, Reddy stopped them with a quick, stifled cry.</p>
-
-<p>“Whist!” he said, hoarsely. “Look there! What’s that?”</p>
-
-<p>Straining his eyes through the darkness, Allan saw, far down the track
-ahead of them, a dim, white figure. It seemed to be going through some
-sort of pantomime, waving its arms wildly above its head.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a ghost!” whispered Reddy, breathing heavily. “It’s Tim Dorsey’s
-ghost! D’ y’ raymimber, Jack, it was jist there thet th’ poor feller was
-killed last month! That’s his ghost, sure as I’m standin’ here!”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, nonsense!” retorted Jack, with a little laugh, but his heart was
-beating faster than usual, as he peered through the darkness at the
-strange figure. What could it be that would stand there and wave its
-arms in that unearthly fashion?</p>
-
-<p>“It’s his ghost!” repeated Reddy. “Come on, Jack; Oi’m a-goin’ back!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I’m not!” said Jack. “I’m not afraid of a ghost, are you, Allan?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t believe in ghosts,” said Allan, but it must be confessed that
-his nerves were not wholly steady as he kept his eyes on the strange
-figure dancing there in the moonlight.</p>
-
-<p>“If it ain’t a ghost, what is it?” demanded Reddy, hoarsely.</p>
-
-<p>“That’s just what we’re goin’ t’ find out,” answered Jack, and started
-forward, resolutely.</p>
-
-<p>Allan went with him, but Reddy kept discreetly in the rear. He was no
-coward,—he was as brave as any man in facing a danger which he knew the
-nature of,—but all the superstition of his untutored Irish heart held
-him back from this unearthly apparition.</p>
-
-<p>As they drew near, its lines became more clearly defined; it was
-undoubtedly of human shape, but apparently it had no head, only a pair
-of short, stubby arms, which waved wildly in the air, and a pair of legs
-that danced frantically. Near at hand it was even more terrifying than
-at a distance, and their pace grew slower and slower, while Reddy
-stopped short where he was, his teeth chattering, his eyes staring. They
-could hear what seemed to be a human voice proceeding from the figure,
-raised in a sort of weird incantation, now high, now low. Was it really
-a ghost? Allan asked himself; was it really the spirit of the poor
-fellow whose life had been crushed out a few weeks before? could it
-be....</p>
-
-<div id='f044' style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:10.0%; width:80%;'>
- <img src='images/facing044.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-<p class='caption'>“NEAR AT HAND IT WAS EVEN MORE TERRIFYING THAN AT A DISTANCE”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Suddenly Jack laughed aloud with relief, and hurried forward.</p>
-
-<p>“Come on,” he called. “It’s no ghost!”</p>
-
-<p>And in a moment Allan saw him reach the figure and pull the white
-garment down over its head, disclosing a flushed and wrathful, but very
-human, face.</p>
-
-<p>“Thankee, sir,” said a hoarse voice to Jack. “A lady in th’ house back
-there give me a clean shirt, an’ I was jest puttin’ it on when I got
-stuck in th’ durn thing, an’ couldn’t git it either way. I reckon I’d
-’a’ suffocated if you hadn’t come along!”</p>
-
-<p>Jack laughed again.</p>
-
-<p>“We thought you was a ghost!” he said. “You scared Reddy, there, out of
-a year’s growth, I reckon. Come here, Reddy,” he called, “an’ take a
-look at yer ghost!”</p>
-
-<p>Reddy came cautiously forward and examined the released tramp.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” he said, at last, “if you ain’t a ghost, you ought t’ be! I
-never seed anything that looked more loike one!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, an’ you never will!” retorted Jack. “Come along; it’s time we was
-home,” and leaving the tramp to complete his toilet, they hurried away.</p>
-
-<p>They found Mary sitting on the front porch, crooning softly to herself
-as she rocked Mamie to sleep. They bade Reddy good night, and sat down
-beside her.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, did y’ have a nice time?” she asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” laughed Jack, and told her the story of the ghost.</p>
-
-<p>They sat silent for a time after that, looking down over the busy yards,
-breathing in the cool night air, watching the moon as it sailed slowly
-up the heavens. Allan felt utterly at rest; for the first time in many
-days he felt that he had a home, that there were people in the world who
-loved him. The thought brought the quick tears to his eyes; an impulse
-to confide in these new friends surged up within him.</p>
-
-<p>“I want to tell you something about myself,” he said, turning to them
-quickly. “It’s only right that you should know.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Welsh stopped the lullaby she had been humming, and sat quietly
-waiting.</p>
-
-<p>“Just as y’ please,” said Jack, but the boy knew he would be glad to
-hear the story.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s not a very long one,” said Allan, his lips trembling, “nor an
-unusual one, for that matter. Father was a carpenter, and we lived in a
-little home just out of Cincinnati—he and mother and I. We were very
-happy, and I went to school every day, while father went in to the city
-to his work. But one day I was called from school, and when I got home I
-found that father had fallen from a scaffolding he had been working on,
-and was so badly injured that he had been taken to a hospital. We
-thought for a long time that he would die, but he got better slowly, and
-at last we were able to take him home. But he was never able to work any
-more,—his spine had been injured so that he could scarcely move
-himself,—and our little savings grew smaller and smaller.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan stopped, and looked off across the yards, gripping his hands
-together to preserve his self-control.</p>
-
-<p>“Father worried about it,” he went on, at last; “worried so much that he
-grew worse and worse, until—until—he brought on a fever. He hadn’t any
-strength to fight with. He just sank under it, and died. I was fifteen
-years old then—but boys don’t understand at the time how hard things
-are. After he was gone—well, it seems now, looking back, that I could
-have done something more to help than I did.”</p>
-
-<p>“There, now, don’t be a-blamin’ yerself,” said Jack, consolingly.</p>
-
-<p>The little woman in the rocking-chair leaned over and touched his arm
-softly, caressingly.</p>
-
-<p>“No; don’t be blamin’ yerself,” she said. “I know y’ did th’ best y’
-could. They ain’t so very much a boy kin do, when it’s money that’s
-needed.”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” and Allan drew a deep breath; “nor a woman, either. Though it
-wasn’t only that; I’d have worked on; I wouldn’t have given up—but—but—”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” said Mary, understanding with quick, unfailing sympathy; “it was
-th’ mother.”</p>
-
-<p>“She did the best she could,” went on Allan, falteringly. “She tried to
-bear up for my sake; but after father was gone she was never quite the
-same again; she never seemed to rally from the shock of it. She was
-never strong to start with, and I saw that she grew weaker and weaker
-every day.” He stopped and cleared his voice. “That’s about all there is
-to the story,” he added. “I got a little from the furniture and paid off
-some of the debts, but I couldn’t do much. I tried to get work there,
-but there didn’t seem to be anybody who wanted me. There were some
-distant relatives, but I had never known them—and besides, I didn’t want
-to seem a beggar. There wasn’t anything to keep me in Cincinnati, so I
-struck out.”</p>
-
-<p>“And y’ did well,” said Welsh. “I’m mighty glad y’ come along jest when
-y’ did. Y’ll find enough to do here, if y’ will keep a willin’ hand.
-Section work ain’t much, but maybe y’ can git out of it after awhile. Y’
-might git a place in th’ yard office if ye’re good at figgers. Ye’ve got
-more eddication than some. It’s them that git lifted.”</p>
-
-<p>“You’d better talk!” said the wife. “’Tain’t every man with an
-eddication that gits t’ be foreman at your age.”</p>
-
-<p>“No more it ain’t,” and Jack smiled. “Come on; it’s time t’ go t’ bed.
-Say good night t’ th’ boy, Mamie.”</p>
-
-<p>“Night,” murmured Mamie, sleepily, and held out her moist, red lips.</p>
-
-<p>With a quick warmth at his heart, Allan stooped and kissed them. It was
-the first kiss he had given or received since his mother’s death, and,
-after he had got to bed in the little hot attic room, with its single
-window looking out upon the yards, he lay for a long time thinking over
-the events of the day, and his great good fortune in falling in with
-these kindly people. Sometime, perhaps, he might be able to prove how
-much their kindness meant to him.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chIV' title='IV: ALLAN MEETS AN ENEMY'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER IV.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>ALLAN MEETS AN ENEMY</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>It was not until morning that Allan realized how unaccustomed he was to
-real labour. As he tried to spring from bed in answer to Jack’s call, he
-found every muscle in revolt. How they ached! It was all he could do to
-slip his arms into his shirt, and, when he bent over to put on his
-shoes, he almost cried out at the twinge it cost him. He hobbled
-painfully down-stairs, and Jack saw in a moment what was the matter.</p>
-
-<p>“Yer muscles ain’t used t’ tuggin’ at crowbars an’ shovellin’ gravel,”
-he said, laughing. “It’ll wear off in a day or two, but till then ye’ll
-have t’ grin an’ bear it, fer they ain’t no cure fer it. But y’ ain’t
-goin’ t’ work in them clothes!”</p>
-
-<p>“They’re all I have here,” answered Allan, reddening. “I have a trunk at
-Cincinnati with a lot more in, and I thought I’d write for it to-day.”</p>
-
-<p>“But I reckon ye ain’t got any clothes tough enough fer this work. I’ll
-fix y’ out,” said Welsh, good-naturedly.</p>
-
-<p>So, after breakfast, he led Allan over to a railroad outfitting shop and
-secured him a canvas jumper, a pair of heavy overalls, and a pair of
-rough, strong, cowhide shoes.</p>
-
-<p>“There!” he said, viewing his purchases with satisfaction. “Y’ kin pay
-fer ’em when y’ git yer first month’s wages. Y’ kin put ’em on over in
-th’ section shanty. You go along over there; I’ve got t’ stop an’ see
-th’ roadmaster a minute.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan walked on quickly, his bundle under his arm, past the long
-passenger station and across the maze of tracks in the lower yards. Here
-lines of freight-cars were side-tracked, waiting their turn to be taken
-east or west; and, as he hurried past, a man came suddenly out from
-behind one of them and laid a strong hand on his arm.</p>
-
-<p>“Here, wait a minute!” he said, roughly. “I’ve got somethin’ t’ say t’
-you. Come in here!” And before Allan could think of resistance, he was
-pulled behind the row of cars.</p>
-
-<p>Allan found himself looking up into a pair of small, glittering black
-eyes, deeply set in a face of which the most prominent features were a
-large nose, covered with freckles, and a thick-lipped mouth, which
-concealed the jagged teeth beneath but imperfectly. He saw, too, that
-his captor was not much older than himself, but that he was considerably
-larger and no doubt stronger.</p>
-
-<p>“Ye’re th’ new man on Twenty-one, ain’t you?” he asked, after a moment’s
-fierce examination of Allan’s face.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I went to work yesterday,” said Allan.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, y’ want t’ quit th’ job mighty quick, d’ y’ see? I’m Dan Nolan,
-an’ it’s my job y’ve got. I’d ’a’ got took back if ye hadn’t come along.
-So ye’re got t’ git out, d’ y’ hear?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I hear,” answered Allan, quietly, reddening a little; and his
-heart began to beat faster at the prospect of trouble ahead.</p>
-
-<p>“If y’ know what’s good fer y’, y’ll git out!” said Nolan, savagely,
-clenching his fists. “When’ll y’ quit?”</p>
-
-<p>“As soon as Mr. Welsh discharges me,” answered Allan, still more
-quietly.</p>
-
-<p>Nolan glared at him for a moment, seemingly unable to speak.</p>
-
-<p>“D’ y’ mean t’ say y’ won’t git out when I tells you to? I’ll show y’!”
-And he struck suddenly and viciously at the boy’s face.</p>
-
-<p>But Allan had been expecting the onslaught, and sprang quickly to one
-side. Before Nolan could recover himself, he had ducked under one of the
-freight-cars and come up on the other side. Nolan ran around the end of
-the car, but the boy was well out of reach.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll ketch y’!” he cried after him, shaking his fists. “An’ when I do
-ketch y’—”</p>
-
-<p>He stopped abruptly and dived back among the cars, for he had caught
-sight of Jack Welsh coming across the yards. Allan saw him, too, and
-waited for him.</p>
-
-<p>“Wasn’t that Dan Nolan?” he asked, as he came up.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, it was Nolan,” answered Allan.</p>
-
-<p>“Was he threatenin’ you?”</p>
-
-<div id='f054' style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:10.0%; width:80%;'>
- <img src='images/facing054.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-<p class='caption'>“HE STRUCK SUDDENLY AND VICIOUSLY AT THE BOY’S FACE”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“Yes; he told me to get out or he’d lay for me.”</p>
-
-<p>“He did, eh?” and Jack’s lips tightened ominously. “What did y’ tell
-him?”</p>
-
-<p>“I told him I’d get out when you discharged me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Y’ did?” and Jack clapped him on the shoulder. “Good fer you! Let me
-git my hands on him once, an’ he’ll lave ye alone! But y’ want t’ look
-out fer him, m’ boy. If he’d fight fair, y’ could lick him; but he’s a
-big, overgrown brute, an’ ’ll try t’ hit y’ from behind sometime, mebbe.
-That’s his style, fer he’s a coward.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll look out for him,” said Allan; and walked on with beating heart to
-the section shanty. Here, while Jack told the story of the encounter
-with Nolan, Allan donned his new garments and laid his other ones aside.
-The new ones were not beautiful, but at least they were comfortable, and
-could defy even the wear and tear of work on section.</p>
-
-<p>The spin on the hand-car out into the open country was full of
-exhilaration, and, after an hour’s work, Allan almost forgot his sore
-muscles. He found that to-day there was a different class of work to do.
-The fences along the right of way were to be repaired, and the right of
-way itself placed in order—the grass cut back from the road-bed, the
-gravel piled neatly along it, weeds trimmed out, rubbish gathered up,
-cattle-guards, posts, and fences at crossings whitewashed. All this,
-too, was a revelation to the new hand. He had never thought that a
-railroad required so much attention. Rod after rod was gone over in this
-way, until it seemed that not a stone was out of place. It was not until
-the noon-hour, when he was eating his portion of the lunch Mrs. Welsh
-had prepared for them, that he learned the reason for all this.</p>
-
-<p>“Y’ see we’re puttin’ on a few extry touches,” remarked Jack. “Th’ Irish
-Brigade goes over th’ road next week.”</p>
-
-<p>“The Irish Brigade?” questioned Allan; and he had a vision of some crack
-military organization.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, th’ Irish Brigade. Twict a year, all th’ section foremen on th’
-road ’r’ taken over it t’ look at th’ other sections, an’ see which man
-keeps his in th’ best shape. Each man’s section’s graded, an’ th’ one
-that gits th’ highest grade gits a prize o’ fifty dollars. We’re goin’
-t’ try fer that prize. So’s every other section-gang on th’ line.”</p>
-
-<p>“But what is the Irish Brigade?” questioned the boy.</p>
-
-<p>“The foremen of the section-men. There’s about a hundred, and the
-officers give us that name. There’s many a good Irishman like myself
-among the foremen;” and a gleam of humour was in Jack’s eyes. “They say
-I’m puttin’ my Irish back of me in my talk, but the others stick to it,
-more or less. It’s a great time when the Irish Brigade takes its
-inspection tour.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan worked with a new interest after that, for he, too, was anxious
-that Jack’s section should win the fifty dollars. He could guess how
-much such a sum would mean to him. He confided his hopes to Reddy, while
-they were working together cutting out some weeds that had sprung up
-along the track, but the latter was not enthusiastic.</p>
-
-<p>“Oi don’t know,” he said. “They’s some mighty good section-men on this
-road. Why, last year, when Flaherty, o’ Section Tin, got th’ prize, his
-grass looked like it ’ud been gone over with a lawnmower, an’ he’d aven
-scrubbed th’ black gr’ase from th’ ingines off th’ toies. Oh, it looked
-foine; but thin, so did all th’ rist.”</p>
-
-<p>But Allan was full of hope. As he looked back over the mile they had
-covered since morning, he told himself that no stretch of track could
-possibly be in better order. But, to the foreman’s more critical and
-experienced eye, there were still many things wanting, and he promised
-himself to go over it again before inspection-day came around.</p>
-
-<p>Every train that passed left some mark behind. From the freights came
-great pieces of greasy waste, which littered up the ties, or piles of
-ashes sifted down from the fire-box; while with the passengers it was
-even worse. The people threw from the coach windows papers, banana
-peelings, boxes and bags containing remnants of lunch, bottles, and
-every kind of trash. They did not realize that all this must be
-patiently gathered up again, in order that the road-bed might be quite
-free from litter. Not many of them would have greatly cared.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s amazin’,” remarked Reddy, in the course of the afternoon, “how
-little people r’ally know about railroadin’, an’ thin think they know ’t
-all. They think that whin th’ road’s built, that’s all they is to it,
-an’ all th’ expinse th’ company’s got’s fer runnin’ th’ trains. Why, on
-this one division, from Cincinnati t’ Parkersburg, they’s more’n two
-hunderd men a-workin’ ivery day jest kapin’ up th’ track. Back there in
-th’ shops, they’s foive hundred more, repairin’ an’ rebuildin’ ingines
-an’ cars. At ivery little crossroads they’s an operator, an’ at ivery
-little station they’s six or eight people busy at work. Out east, they
-tell me, they’s a flagman at ivery crossin’. Think o’ what all that
-costs!”</p>
-
-<p>“But what’s the use of keeping the road-bed so clean?” asked Allan.
-“Nobody ever sees it.”</p>
-
-<p>“What’s th’ use o’ doin’ anything roight?” retorted Reddy. “I tell you
-ivery little thing counts in favour of a road, or agin it. This here
-road’s spendin’ thousands o’ dollars straightenin’ out curves over there
-in th’ mountings, so’s th’ passengers won’t git shook up so much, an’
-th’ trains kin make a little better toime. Why, I’ve heerd thet some
-roads even sprinkle th’ road-bed with ile t’ lay th’ dust!</p>
-
-<p>“Human natur’ ’s a funny thing,” he added, shaking his head
-philosophically, “’specially when it comes t’ railroads. Many’s th’ man
-Oi’ve seen nearly break his neck t’ git acrost th’ track in front of a
-train, an’ thin stop t’ watch th’ train go by; an’ many another loafer,
-who never does anything but kill toime, ’ll worrit hisself sick if th’
-train he’s on happens t’ be tin minutes late. It’s th’ man who ain’t got
-no business that’s always lettin’ on t’ have th’ most. Here comes th’
-flier,” he added, as a shrill whistle sounded from afar up the road.</p>
-
-<p>They stood aside to watch the train shoot past with a rush and roar, to
-draw into the station at Wadsworth on time to the minute.</p>
-
-<p>“That was Jem Spurling on th’ ingine,” observed Reddy, as they went back
-to work. “Th’ oldest ingineer on th’ road—an’ th’ nerviest. Thet’s th’
-reason he’s got th’ flier. Most fellers loses their nerve after they’ve
-been runnin’ an ingine a long time, an’ a year ’r two back, Jem got sort
-o’ shaky fer awhile—slowed down when they wasn’t no need of it, y’ know;
-imagined he saw things on th’ track ahead, an’ lost time. Well, th’
-company wouldn’t stand fer thet, ’specially with th’ flier, an’ finally
-th’ train-master told him thet if he couldn’t bring his train in on
-time, he’d have t’ go back t’ freight. Well, sir, it purty nigh broke
-Jem’s heart.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Oi tell y’, Mister Schofield,’ he says t’ th’ train-master, ‘Oi’ll
-bring th’ train in on toime if they’s a brick house on th’ track.’</p>
-
-<p>“‘All right,’ says Mr. Schofield; ‘thet’s all we ask,’ an’ Jem went down
-to his ingine.</p>
-
-<p>“Th’ next day Jem come into th’ office t’ report, an’ looked aroun’ kind
-o’ inquirin’ like.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Any of it got here yet?’ he asks.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Any o’ what?’ asks Mr. Schofield.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Any o’ thet coal,’ says Jem.</p>
-
-<p>“‘What coal?’ asks Mr. Schofield.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Somebody left a loaded coal-car on th’ track down here by th’ chute,’
-says Jem.</p>
-
-<p>“‘They did?’</p>
-
-<p>“‘Yes,’ says Jem; ‘thought they’d throw me late, most likely; but they
-didn’t. Oi’m not loike a man what’s lost his nerve—not by a good deal.’</p>
-
-<p>“‘But th’ car—how’d y’ git around it?’ asks Mr. Schofield.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Oh, Oi didn’t try t’ git around it,’ says Jem. ‘Oi jest pulled her
-wide open an’ come through. They’s about a ton o’ coal on top o’ th’
-rear coach, an’ Oi thought maybe I’d find th’ rest of it up here. I
-guess it ain’t come down yit.’</p>
-
-<p>“‘But, great Scott, man!’ says Mr. Schofield, ‘that was an awful risk.’</p>
-
-<p>“‘Oi guess Oi’d better run my ingine down t’ th’ repair shop,’ went on
-Jem, cool as a cucumber. ‘Her stack’s gone, an’ the pilot, an’ th’
-winders o’ th’ cab are busted. But Oi got in on toime.’</p>
-
-<p>“Well, they laid Jem off fer a month,” concluded Reddy, “but they’ve
-niver said anything since about his losin’ his nerve.”</p>
-
-<p>So, through the afternoon, Reddy discoursed of the life of the rail, and
-told stories grave and gay, related tragedies and comedies, described
-hair-breadth escapes, and with it all managed to impart to his hearer
-many valuable hints concerning section work.</p>
-
-<p>“Though,” he added, echoing Jack, “it’s not on section you’ll be workin’
-all your life! You’ve got too good a head fer that.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know,” said Allan, modestly. “This takes a pretty good head,
-too, doesn’t it?”</p>
-
-<p>“It takes a good head in a way; but it’s soon learnt, an’ after thet,
-all a man has t’ do is t’ keep sober. But this is a, b, c, compared t’
-th’ work of runnin’ th’ road. Ever been up in th’ despatcher’s office?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Allan. “I never have.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, y’ want t’ git Jack t’ take y’ up there some day; then y’ll see
-where head-work comes in. I know thet all the trainmen swear at th’
-despatchers; but jest th’ same, it takes a mighty good man t’ hold down
-th’ job.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll ask Jack to take me,” said Allan; and he resolved to get all the
-insight possible into the workings of this great engine of industry, of
-which he had become a part.</p>
-
-<p>Quitting-time came at last, and they loaded their tools wearily upon the
-car and started on the five-mile run home. This time there was no
-disturbing incident. The regular click, click of the wheels over the
-rails told of a track in perfect condition. At last they rattled over
-the switches in the yards and pushed the car into its place in the
-section-house.</p>
-
-<p>“You run along,” said Jack to Allan. “I’ve got t’ make out a report
-to-night. It’ll take me maybe five minutes. Tell Mary I’ll be home by
-then.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right!” and Allan picked up his bundle of clothes and started
-across the yards. He could see the little house that he called home
-perched high on its bank of clay. Apparently they were watching for him,
-for he saw a tiny figure running down the path, and knew that Mamie was
-coming to meet him. She did not stop at the gate, but ran across the
-narrow street and into the yards toward him. He quickened his steps at
-the thought that some harm might befall her among this maze of tracks.
-He could see her mother standing on the porch, looking down at them,
-shading her eyes with her hand.</p>
-
-<p>And then, in an instant, a yard-engine whirled out from behind the
-roundhouse. Mamie looked around as she heard it coming, and stopped
-short in the middle of the track, confused and terrified in presence of
-this unexpected danger.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chV' title='V: ALLAN PROVES HIS METAL'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER V.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>ALLAN PROVES HIS METAL</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>As Allan dashed forward toward the child, he saw the engineer, his face
-livid, reverse his engine and jerk open the sand-box; the sand spurted
-forth under the drivers, whirling madly backwards in the midst of a
-shower of sparks, but sliding relentlessly down upon the terror-stricken
-child. It was over in an instant—afterward, the boy could never tell how
-it happened—he knew only that he stooped and caught the child from under
-the very wheels of the engine, just as something struck him a terrific
-blow on the leg and hurled him to one side.</p>
-
-<p>He was dimly conscious of holding the little one close in his arms that
-she might not be injured, then he struck the ground with a crash that
-left him dazed and shaken. When he struggled to his feet, the engineer
-had jumped down from his cab and Welsh was speeding toward them across
-the tracks.</p>
-
-<p>“Hurt?” asked the engineer.</p>
-
-<p>“I guess not—not much;” and Allan stooped to rub his leg. “Something hit
-me here.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes—the footboard. Knocked you off the track. I had her pretty near
-stopped, or they’d be another story.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan turned to Welsh, who came panting up, and placed the child in his
-arms.</p>
-
-<p>“I guess she’s not hurt,” he said, with a wan little smile.</p>
-
-<p>But Jack’s emotion had quite mastered him for the moment.</p>
-
-<p>“Mamie!” he cried, gathering her to him. “My little girl!” And the great
-tears shattered down over his cheeks upon the child’s dress.</p>
-
-<p>The others stood looking on, understanding, sympathetic. The fireman
-even turned away to rub his sleeve furtively across his eyes, for he was
-a very young man and quite new to railroading.</p>
-
-<p>The moment passed, and Welsh gripped back his self-control, as he turned
-to Allan and held out his great hand.</p>
-
-<p>“You’ve got nerve,” he said. “We won’t fergit it—Mary an’ me. Come on
-home—it’s your home now, as well as ours.”</p>
-
-<p>Half-way across the tracks they met Mary, who, after one shrill scream
-of anguish at sight of her darling’s peril, had started wildly down the
-path to the gate, though she knew she must arrive too late. She had seen
-the rescue, and now, with streaming eyes, she threw her arms around
-Allan and kissed him.</p>
-
-<p>“My brave boy!” she cried. “He’s our boy, now, ain’t he, Jack, as long
-as he wants t’ stay?”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s jest what I was tellin’ him, Mary dear,” said Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“But he’s limpin’,” she cried. “What’s th’ matter? Y’re not hurted,
-Allan?”</p>
-
-<p>“Not very badly,” answered the boy. “No bones broken—just a knock on the
-leg that took the skin off.”</p>
-
-<p>“Come on home this instant,” commanded Mary, “an’ we’ll see.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ain’t y’ goin’ t’ kiss Mamie?” questioned Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“She don’t deserve t’ be kissed!” protested her mother. “She’s been a
-bad girl—how often have I told her never t’ lave th’ yard?”</p>
-
-<p>Mamie was weeping bitter tears of repentance, and her mother suddenly
-softened and caught her to her breast.</p>
-
-<p>“I—I won’t be bad no more!” sobbed Mamie.</p>
-
-<p>“I should hope not! An’ what d’ y’ say t’ Allan? If it hadn’t ’a’ been
-fer him, you’d ’a’ been ground up under th’ wheels.”</p>
-
-<p>“I—I lubs him!” cried Mamie, with a very tender look at our hero.</p>
-
-<p>She held up her lips, and Allan bent and kissed them.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, m’ boy,” laughed Jack, as the triumphal procession moved on again
-toward the house, “you seem t’ have taken this family by storm, fer
-sure!”</p>
-
-<p>“Come along!” cried Mary. “Mebbe th’ poor lad’s hurted worse’n he
-thinks.”</p>
-
-<p>She hurried him along before her up the path, sat him down in a chair,
-and rolled up his trousers leg.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s nothing,” protested Allan. “It’s nothing—it’s not worth worrying
-about.”</p>
-
-<p>“<i>Ain’t</i> it!” retorted Mary, with compressed lips, removing shoe and
-sock and deftly cutting away the blood-stained underwear. “<i>Ain’t</i> it?
-You poor boy, look at that!”</p>
-
-<p>And, indeed, it was rather an ugly-looking wound that lay revealed. The
-flesh had been crushed and torn by the heavy blow, and was bleeding and
-turning black.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a mercy it didn’t break your leg!” she added. “Jack, you loon!”
-she went on, with a fierceness assumed to keep herself from bursting
-into tears, “don’t stand starin’ there, but bring me a basin o’ hot
-water, an’ be quick about it!”</p>
-
-<p>Jack <i>was</i> quick about it, and in a few moments the wound was washed and
-nicely dressed with a cooling lotion which Mary produced from a
-cupboard.</p>
-
-<p>“I keep it fer Jack,” Mary explained, as she spread it tenderly over the
-wound. “He’s allers gittin’ pieces knocked off o’ him. Now how does it
-feel, Allan darlint?” “It feels fine,” Allan declared. “It doesn’t hurt
-a bit. It’ll be all right by morning.”</p>
-
-<p>“By mornin’!” echoed Mary, indignantly. “I reckon y’ think yer goin’ out
-on th’ section t’-morrer!”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, of course. I’ve got to go. We’re getting it ready for the Irish
-Brigade. We’ve got to win that prize!”</p>
-
-<p>“Prize!” cried Mary. “Much I care fer th’ prize! But there! I won’t
-quarrel with y’ now. Kin y’ walk?”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course I can walk,” and Allan rose to his feet.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, then, you men git ready fer supper. I declare it’s got cold—I’ll
-have t’ warm it up ag’in! An’ I reckon I’ll put on a little somethin’
-extry jest t’ celebrate!”</p>
-
-<p>She put on several things extra, and there was a regular thanksgiving
-feast in the little Welsh home that evening, with Allan in the place of
-honour, and Mamie looking at him adoringly from across the table.
-Probably not a single one of the employés of the road would have
-hesitated to do what he had done,—indeed, to risk his life for another’s
-is the ordinary duty of a railroad man,—but that did not lessen the
-merit of the deed in the eyes of Mamie’s parents. And for the first time
-in many days, Allan was quite happy, too. He felt that he was making
-himself a place in the world—and, sweeter than all, a place in the
-hearts of the people with whom his life was cast.</p>
-
-<p>But the injury was a more serious one than he had been willing to admit.
-When he tried to get out of bed in the morning, he found his leg so
-stiff and sore that he could scarcely move it. He set his teeth and
-managed to dress himself and hobble down-stairs, but his white face
-showed the agony he was suffering.</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Allan!” cried Mary, flying to him and helping him to a chair. “What
-did y’ want t’ come down fer? Why didn’t y’ call me?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t want to be such a nuisance as all that!” the boy protested.
-“But I’m afraid I can’t go to work to-day.”</p>
-
-<p>Mary sniffed scornfully.</p>
-
-<p>“No—nor to-morrer!” she said. “You’re goin’ t’ stay right in that
-chair!”</p>
-
-<p>She flew around, making him more comfortable, and Allan was coddled that
-day as he had not been for a long time. Whether it was the nursing or
-the magic qualities of Mary’s lotion, his leg was very much better by
-night, and the next morning was scarcely sore at all. The quickness of
-the healing—for it was quite well again in three or four days—was due in
-no small part to Allan’s healthy young blood, but he persisted in giving
-all the credit to Mary.</p>
-
-<p>After that, Allan noticed a shade of difference in the treatment
-accorded him by the other men. Heretofore he had been a stranger—an
-outsider. Now he was so no longer. He had proved his right to
-consideration and respect. He was “th’ boy that saved Jack Welsh’s kid.”
-Report of the deed penetrated even to the offices where dwelt the men
-who ruled the destinies of the division, and the superintendent made a
-mental note of the name for future reference. The train-master, too, got
-out from his desk a many-paged, much-thumbed book, indexed from first to
-last, and, under the letter “W,” wrote a few lines. The records of
-nearly a thousand men, for good and bad, were in that book, and many a
-one, hauled up “on the carpet” to be disciplined, had been astonished
-and dismayed by the train-master’s familiarity with his career.</p>
-
-<p>Of all the men in the gang, after the foreman, Allan found Reddy Magraw
-the most lovable, and the merry, big-hearted Irishman took a great
-liking to the boy. He lived in a little house not far from the Welshes,
-and he took Allan home with him one evening to introduce him to Mrs.
-Magraw and the “childer.” The former was a somewhat faded little woman,
-worn down by hard work and ceaseless self-denial, but happy despite it
-all, and the children were as healthy and merry a set of young scalawags
-as ever rolled about upon a sanded floor. There were no carpets and only
-the most necessary furniture,—a stove, two beds, a table, and some
-chairs, for there was little money left after feeding and clothing that
-ever hungry swarm,—but everywhere there was a scrupulous, almost
-painful, cleanliness. And one thing the boy learned from this visit and
-succeeding ones—that what he had considered poverty was not poverty at
-all, and that brave and cheerful hearts can light up any home.</p>
-
-<p>His trunk arrived from the storage house at Cincinnati in due time,
-affording him a welcome change of clothing, while Mrs. Welsh set herself
-to work at once sewing on missing buttons, darning socks, patching
-trousers—doing the hundred and one things which always need to be done
-to the clothing of a motherless boy. Indeed, it might be fairly said
-that he was motherless no longer, so closely had she taken him to her
-heart.</p>
-
-<p>Sunday came at last, with its welcome relief from toil. They lay late in
-bed that morning, making up lost rest, revelling in the unaccustomed
-luxury of leisure, and in the afternoon Jack took the boy for a tour
-through the shops, swarming with busy life on week-days, but now
-deserted, save for an occasional watchman. And here Allan got, for the
-first time, a glimpse of one great department of a railroad’s management
-which most people know nothing of. In the first great room, the “long
-shop,” half a dozen disabled engines were hoisted on trucks and were
-being rebuilt. Back of this was the foundry, where all the needed
-castings were made, from the tiniest bolt to the massive frame upon
-which the engine-boiler rests. Then there was the blacksmith shop, with
-its score of forges and great steam-hammer, that could deliver a blow of
-many tons; and next to this the lathe-room, where the castings from the
-foundry were shaved and planed and polished to exactly the required size
-and shape; and still farther on was the carpenter shop, with its maze of
-woodworking machinery, most wonderful of all, in its nearly human
-intelligence.</p>
-
-<p>Beyond the shop was the great coal chute, where the tender of an engine
-could be heaped high with coal in an instant by simply pulling a lever;
-then the big water-tanks, high in air, filled with water pumped from the
-river half a mile away; and last of all, the sand-house, where the
-sand-boxes of the engines were carefully replenished before each trip.
-How many lives had been saved by that simple device, which enabled the
-wheels to grip the track and stop the train! How many might be
-sacrificed if, at a critical moment, the sand-box of the engine happened
-to be empty! It was a startling reflection—that even upon this little
-cog in the great machine—this thoughtless boy, who poured the sand into
-the boxes—so much depended.</p>
-
-<p>Bright and early Monday morning they were out again on Twenty-one.
-Wednesday was inspection, and they knew that up and down those two
-hundred miles of track hand-cars were flying back and forth, and every
-inch of the roadway was being examined by eyes severely critical. They
-found many things to do, things which Allan would never have thought of,
-but which appealed at once to the anxious eyes of the foreman.</p>
-
-<p>About the middle of the afternoon, Welsh saw a figure emerge from a
-grove of trees beside the road and come slouching toward him. As it drew
-nearer, he recognized Dan Nolan.</p>
-
-<p>“Mister Welsh,” began Nolan, quite humbly, “can’t y’ give me a place on
-th’ gang ag’in?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Jack, curtly, “I can’t. Th’ gang’s full.”</p>
-
-<p>“That there kid’s no account,” protested Nolan, with a venomous glance
-at Allan. “I’ll take his place.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, you won’t, Dan Nolan!” retorted Jack. “He’s a better man than you
-are, any day.”</p>
-
-<p>“He is, is he?” sneered Nolan. “We’ll see about that!”</p>
-
-<p>“An’ if you so much as harm a hair o’ him,” continued Jack, with
-clenched fists, “I’ll have it out o’ your hide, two fer one—jest keep
-that in mind.”</p>
-
-<p>Nolan laughed mockingly, but he also took the precaution to retreat to a
-safe distance from Jack’s threatening fists.</p>
-
-<p>“Y’ won’t give me a job, then?” he asked again.</p>
-
-<p>“Not if you was th’ last man on earth!”</p>
-
-<p>“All right!” cried Nolan, getting red in the face with anger, which he
-no longer made any effort to suppress. “All right! I’ll fix you an’ th’
-kid, too! You think y’re smart; think y’ll win th’ section prize! Ho,
-ho! I guess not! Not this trip! Purty section-foreman you are! I’ll show
-you!”</p>
-
-<p>Jack didn’t answer, but he stopped and picked up a stone; and Nolan
-dived hastily back into the grove again.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s a big coward,” said Jack, throwing down the stone disgustedly, and
-turning back to his work. “Don’t let him scare y’, Allan.”</p>
-
-<p>“He didn’t scare me,” answered Allan, quietly, and determined to give a
-good account of himself should Nolan ever attempt to molest him.</p>
-
-<p>But Jack was not as easy in his mind as he pretended; he knew Nolan, and
-believed him quite capable of any treacherous meanness. So he kept Allan
-near him; and if Nolan was really lurking in the bushes anywhere along
-the road, he had no opportunity for mischief.</p>
-
-<p>The next morning Jack took his men out directly to the western end of
-the section, and came back very slowly, stopping here and there to put a
-finishing touch to the work. Even Reddy was enthusiastic over the
-condition of the section.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s foin as silk!” he said, looking back over the road they had just
-traversed. “Ef we don’t git th’ prize this toime, it’s because some
-other feller’s a lot smarter ’n we are!”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chVI' title='VI: REDDY TO THE RESCUE'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER VI.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>REDDY TO THE RESCUE</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>Engineer Lister had often been angry in his life, for, truth to tell,
-running an engine is not conducive to good nerves or even temper. It is
-a trying job, demanding constant alertness, and quick, unerring
-judgment. But when to the usual responsibilities of the place are added
-a cranky engine and a green fireman, even a saint would lose his
-patience. Ellis Root was the green fireman, and seemed to possess such a
-veritable genius for smothering his fire that more than once the
-engineer had been compelled to clamber down from his box and wield the
-rake and shovel himself. To add to this difficulty of keeping up steam,
-the 226, a great ten-wheeled aristocrat of a freight-engine, had
-suddenly developed a leaky throttle, together with some minor ailments,
-which rendered the task of handling her one of increasing difficulty.</p>
-
-<p>The last straw was the refusal of the despatcher at headquarters to
-allow Lister to reduce his tonnage. His train happened to be an
-unusually heavy one which, ordinarily, the 226 could have handled with
-ease. The despatcher knew this; he knew also that Lister had an
-unfortunate habit of complaining when there was nothing to complain
-about; so when this last complaint came in, he wired back a terse reply,
-telling Lister to “shut up, and bring in your train.”</p>
-
-<p>So Lister was raving angry by the time his engine limped feebly into the
-yards at Wadsworth. He jumped off almost before she stopped, and leaped
-up the stairs to the division offices two steps at a time, in order to
-unburden himself without delay of his opinion of the despatcher who had
-so heartlessly refused to help him out of his difficulties.</p>
-
-<p>He burst into the office like a whirlwind, red in the face, gasping for
-breath.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the matter, Lister?” asked the train-master, looking up from his
-desk.</p>
-
-<p>“Matter!” yelled Lister. “Where’s that thick-headed despatcher? He ain’t
-fit to hold a job on this road!”</p>
-
-<p>“What did he do?” asked the train-master, grinning at the heads that had
-been stuck in from the adjoining rooms to find out what the noise was
-about. “Tell me what he did, and maybe I’ll fire him.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll tell you what he did! He made me handle my full train when I wired
-in here an’ told him my engine was leakin’ like a sieve. What do you
-think of a roundhouse foreman that’ll send an engine out in that shape?”</p>
-
-<p>“So you want me to fire the foreman, too?” queried the train-master,
-grinning more broadly. “Where is the engine?”</p>
-
-<p>“She’s down there in the yards,” said Lister.</p>
-
-<p>“What! Down in the yards! Do you mean to say you brought her in?”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course I brought her in,” said Lister. “They ain’t another engineer
-on th’ road could ’a’ done it, but I did it, an’ I want to tell you, Mr.
-Schofield—”</p>
-
-<p>A succession of sharp blasts from the whistle of the yard-engine
-interrupted him.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s that?” cried the train-master, and threw up the window, for the
-blasts meant that an accident of some sort had happened. The other men
-in the office rushed to the windows, too,—they saw the yardmen running
-madly about and gesticulating wildly,—and away up the yards they saw the
-226 rattling over the switches at full speed, running wild!</p>
-
-<p>With a single bound the train-master was at the door of the despatcher’s
-office.</p>
-
-<p>“Where’s Number Four?” he demanded. Number Four was the fastest through
-passenger-train on the road—the east-bound flier, to which all other
-trains gave precedence.</p>
-
-<p>The despatcher in charge of the west end of the road looked up from his
-desk.</p>
-
-<p>“Number Four passed Anderson three minutes ago, sir,” he said. “She’s on
-time—she’s due here in eight minutes.”</p>
-
-<p>The train-master’s face grew suddenly livid; a cold sweat burst out
-across his forehead.</p>
-
-<p>“Good Lord!” he murmured, half to himself. “A wreck—no power on earth
-can help it!”</p>
-
-<p>A vision danced before his eyes—a vision of shattered cars, of mangled
-men and women. He knew where the collision must occur; he knew that the
-flier would be coming down that heavy grade at full speed—and toward the
-flier thundered that wild engine—with no guiding hand upon the
-throttle—with nothing to hold her back from her mad errand of
-destruction!</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk' />
-
-<p>It had happened in this wise. A moment after Engineer Lister jumped to
-the ground, and while his fireman, Ellis Root, was still looking after
-him with a grin of relief, for the trip had been a hot one for him in
-more ways than one, a yardman came along and uncoupled the engine from
-the train. The fireman began to kick off his overalls, when he became
-suddenly conscious that the engine was moving. The leaky throttle did
-not shut off the steam completely from the cylinders, and, released from
-the weight of the heavy train which had held her back, the engine
-started slowly forward.</p>
-
-<p>The fireman, whose knowledge of the engine was as yet of the most
-primitive description, sprang to the other side of the cab and pushed
-the lever forward a notch or two. The engine’s speed increased.</p>
-
-<p>“I can’t stop her,” he said, feverishly, half to himself. “I can’t stop
-her,” and he pulled the lever back.</p>
-
-<p>The engine sprang back in answer and bumped heavily into the train
-behind her.</p>
-
-<p>“Hi, there, you ijit!” yelled the yardman, who was under the first car
-inspecting the air-hose. “What you mean? D’ y’ want t’ kill a feller?
-Let that ingine alone!”</p>
-
-<p>Ellis, with the perspiration trickling down his face, threw the lever
-forward again, and then, as the engine bounded forward in answer, he
-lost his head entirely and leaped off, with a wild yell of dismay.</p>
-
-<p>In a moment the 226 rattled over the switches westward out of the yards,
-and shot out upon the main track, gathering speed with every revolution!</p>
-
-<p>Welsh’s gang had worked its way eastward along the section as far as the
-mill switch, when the foreman took out his watch and glanced at it.</p>
-
-<p>“Git that hand-car off th’ track, boys,” he said. “Number Four’ll be
-along in a minute.”</p>
-
-<p>Two of the men derailed the hand-car, while Welsh glanced up and down
-the road to be sure that the track was clear, and took a look at the
-mill switch, a little distance away, where they had been working, to
-make certain that it had been properly closed. He remembered that a
-work-train had taken a cut of cars out of the switch a short time
-before, but he could tell by the way the lever was thrown that the
-switch was closed.</p>
-
-<p>Far in the distance he could hear the train whistling for the curve just
-beyond the cut. Then, suddenly from the other direction, he caught a
-sound that brought him sharply round, and saw with horror a great
-freight-engine rumbling rapidly toward him.</p>
-
-<p>“My God, she’s runnin’ wild!” he cried; and, with a yell of warning to
-his men, turned and ran toward the switch. If he could only get there in
-time to ditch her!</p>
-
-<p>But the engine whirled past him, and he stopped, seeing already the
-horror, the destruction, which must follow in a moment. Then, far ahead,
-he saw Reddy speeding toward the switch, saw him reach it, bend above
-the short lever that controlled it, and throw it over. Away up the track
-the “flier” flashed into view, running a mile a minute. He could guess
-what was happening in her cab, as her engineer saw the danger. The heavy
-engine rumbled on, all too slowly now, in upon the switch to knock the
-bumper at the farther end to splinters and fight her life out in the mud
-beyond. He saw Reddy throw the lever back again, only in that instant to
-be hurled away to one side as the great train swept by in safety. And
-the engineer, who had reversed his lever and applied the brakes, who had
-waited the outcome with white face and tight-set lips,—but who, never
-for an instant, had thought of saving himself by jumping,—released the
-brakes and threw his lever again on the forward motion. Four minutes
-later the train swept in to Wadsworth, only forty seconds behind the
-schedule!</p>
-
-<p>The passengers never knew how near they had been to death—by what a
-miracle they had escaped destruction! After all, a miss is as good as a
-mile!</p>
-
-<p>Reddy’s comrades found him lying unconscious twenty feet from the track.
-His right arm—the arm that had thrown the lever—hung limp by his side,
-and there was a great gash in his head from which the blood was pouring.
-In a moment Jack had torn off the sleeve of his shirt and made an
-improvised bandage of it, which checked to some extent the flow of
-blood.</p>
-
-<p>“We must git him home,” said Welsh, “where we kin git a doctor. He’s
-hurted bad. Git th’ car on th’ track, boys.”</p>
-
-<p>In an instant it was done, and Reddy was gently lifted on.</p>
-
-<p>“Now you set down there an’ hold his head, Allan,” said Jack. “Keep it
-as stiddy as y’ kin.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan sat down obediently and placed the mangled head tenderly in his
-lap. As he looked at the pale face and closed eyes, it was all he could
-do to keep himself from breaking down. Poor Reddy—good old Reddy—a hero,
-Allan told himself, with quickening heart, a hero who had not hesitated
-to risk his life for others.</p>
-
-<p>But they were off!</p>
-
-<p>And how the men worked, pumping up and down until the car fairly flew
-along the track. They knew the way was clear, since the flier had just
-passed, and up and down they pumped, up and down, knowing that a few
-minutes might mean life or death to their comrade. Down the grade they
-flashed, along the embankment by the river, through the town and into
-the yards, where a dozen willing hands lifted the inanimate form from
-the car and bore it tenderly into the baggage-room.</p>
-
-<p>“How did it happen, Welsh?” asked the train-master, after a surgeon had
-been summoned and an ambulance had taken the still unconscious Reddy to
-his home.</p>
-
-<p>And Jack told him, while the train-master listened, with only a little
-nod now and then to show that he understood. At the end he drew a deep
-breath.</p>
-
-<p>“I thought the flier was gone for sure,” he said. “It would have been
-the worst wreck in the history of the road. Thank God it was spared us!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, thank God,” said Jack, a little hoarsely; “but don’t fergit t’
-thank Reddy Magraw, too!”</p>
-
-<p>“We won’t!” said the train-master, with another little nod. “We’ll never
-forget Reddy.”</p>
-
-<p>“More especially,” added Jack, a little bitterly, “since it’s not th’
-first time he’s saved th’ road a bad wreck. He was fergot th’ first
-time!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I know,” agreed the train-master. “But he wouldn’t have been if
-I’d had anything to do with it.”</p>
-
-<p>“I know it, sir,” said Jack, heartily. “I know it, Mr. Schofield. You’ve
-always treated us square. But I couldn’t help rememberin’!”</p>
-
-<p>Half an hour later Allan and Jack intercepted the doctor as he came out
-of the little house where Mrs. Magraw sat with her apron over her head,
-rocking back and forth in agony.</p>
-
-<p>“He’ll be all right, won’t he, doctor?” asked Jack, anxiously. “He ain’t
-a-goin’t’ die?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” answered the doctor, “he’ll not die. But,” and he hesitated, “he
-got a mighty bad crack, and it will be a long time before he’s able to
-be out again.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’s come to all right, ain’t he, doctor?” questioned Jack, seeing the
-doctor’s hesitation.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, he’s conscious again, but he’s not quite himself yet. But I think
-he’ll come around all right,” and the doctor walked briskly away, while
-Jack and Allan, assured that they could do nothing more for Reddy or his
-family, whom the neighbours had parcelled out among themselves, went
-slowly home.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chVII' title='VII: THE IRISH BRIGADE'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER VII.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>THE IRISH BRIGADE</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>It was not until they were seated around the table that evening that
-Allan remembered that the next day was to occur the great inspection by
-the Irish Brigade, and he straightened up suddenly as he thought of it.</p>
-
-<p>“Didn’t that engine tear things up some when she ran off the track?” he
-asked of Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” answered the foreman, “but it was only at th’ end of th’ sidin’,
-an’ that won’t matter. Besides, th’ wreckin’ crew’s up there now gittin’
-th’ engine back on th’ track an’ fixin’ things up ag’in. If th’ main
-line on Twenty-one ain’t in good shape, it’s because I don’t know what
-good shape is,” he added, with decision. “We couldn’t do anything more
-to it if we worked fer a week. I’ve asked th’ boys t’ take a run over it
-t’-morrer mornin’ jest as a matter o’ precaution. Do y’ think y’ kin git
-up at midnight?” he added, suddenly, giving his wife a knowing wink.</p>
-
-<p>“At midnight?” repeated Allan. “Why, yes, of course, if you want me to.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, y’ll have t’ git up at midnight if y’ want t’ ketch Number Five
-fer Cincinnati.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan’s face flushed with quick pleasure.</p>
-
-<p>“Am I to go, too?” he asked, eagerly. “Can you take me, too?”</p>
-
-<p>Jack laughed in sympathy with his bright eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” he said; “that’s what I kin. I got an extry pass from th’
-superintendent. I told him I had a boy who wanted t’ see th’ road
-because he was goin’ t’ be superintendent hisself, some day. He said he
-guessed he knew th’ boy’s name without bein’ told, an’ wrote out th’
-pass.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan flushed high with pleasure.</p>
-
-<p>“That was nice of him,” he said.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” said Jack; “an’ yet I think he was figgerin’ on helpin’ th’ road,
-too. Y’ see, whenever a bright feller like you comes along an’ shows
-that he’s steady an’ can be depended on, he never gits t’ work on
-section very long. They need boys like that up in th’ offices. That’s
-where th’ brains o’ th’ road are. In fact, th’ office itself is th’
-brain o’ th’ whole system, with wires runnin’ out to every part of it
-an’ bringin’ back word what’s goin’ on, jest like a doctor told me once
-th’ nerves do in our bodies.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” nodded Allan; “but what has that got to do with my going over the
-road to-morrow?”</p>
-
-<p>“Jest this,” said Jack; “before a feller’s fit to hold a job in th’
-offices,—a job as operator or despatcher, that is,—and work one o’ them
-little wires, he’s got t’ know th’ road better’n he knows th’ path in
-his own back yard. He’s got t’ know every foot of it—where th’ grades
-are an’ how heavy they are; where th’ curves are, an’ whether they’re
-long or short; where every sidin’ is, an’ jest how many cars it’ll hold;
-where th’ track runs through a cut, an’ where it comes out on a fill;
-where every bridge and culvert is—in fact, he’s got t’ know th’ road so
-well that when he’s ridin’ over it he kin wake up in th’ night an’ tell
-by th’ way th’ wheels click an’ th’ cars rock jest exactly where he is!”</p>
-
-<p>At the moment Allan thought that Jack was exaggerating; but he was to
-learn that there was in all this not the slightest trace of
-exaggeration. And he was to learn, too, that upon the accuracy of this
-minute knowledge the safety of passenger and freight train often
-depended.</p>
-
-<p>They sat on the porch again that evening, while Mary rocked Mamie to
-sleep and Jack smoked his pipe. Always below them in the yards the
-little yard-engines puffed up and down, placing the cars in position in
-the trains—cars laden with coal and grain for the east; cars laden with
-finished merchandise for the west; the farmer and miner exchanging his
-product for that of the manufacturer.</p>
-
-<p>Only there was no Reddy to come and whistle at the gate, and after
-awhile they walked over to his house to find out how he was.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Magraw let them in. Her stout Irish optimism had come back again,
-for Reddy was better.</p>
-
-<p>“Though he’s still a little quare,” she added. “He lays there with his
-oies open, but he don’t seem t’ notice much. Th’ docther says it’ll be a
-day or two afore he’s hisself ag’in.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I’m glad it’s no worse,” said Jack. “We can’t afford to lose
-Reddy.”</p>
-
-<p>“We won’t lose him this trip, thank God!” said Mrs. Magraw. “Mr.
-Schofield was over jist now t’ see if they was anything he could do. He
-says th’ road’ll make it all roight with Reddy.”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s good!” said Jack, heartily; “but we won’t keep you any longer,
-Mrs. Magraw,” and he and Allan said good night.</p>
-
-<p>“We must be gittin’ t’ bed ourselves,” Jack added, as they mounted the
-path to his home. “Remember, we have t’ git up at midnight. It’s good
-an’ sleepy you’ll be, my boy!”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I won’t!” laughed Allan. “But I’ll turn in now, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p>It seemed to him that he had been asleep only a few minutes when he
-heard Jack’s voice calling. But he was out of bed as soon as he got his
-eyes open, and got into his clothes as quickly as he could in the
-darkness. Mary had a hot lunch waiting by the time he got down-stairs.
-He and Jack ate a little,—one doesn’t have much appetite at
-midnight,—and together they made their way across the yards to the
-station, where they caught the fast mail for the city.</p>
-
-<p>The smoking-car of the train was crowded with section-men on their way
-to the rendezvous, and a jolly, good-natured lot they were. There was no
-thought of sleep, for this was a holiday for them,—besides, sleep was
-out of the question in that tumult,—and one story of the rail followed
-another. As Allan listened, he wondered at these tales of heroism and
-daring told so lightly—of engineers sticking to their posts though
-certain death stared them in the face; of crossing-flagmen saving the
-lives of careless men and women, at the cost, often, of their own; of
-break-in-twos, washouts, head-end collisions, of confusion of orders and
-mistakes of despatchers—all the lore that gathers about the life of the
-rail. And as he listened, the longing came to him to prove himself
-worthy of this brotherhood.</p>
-
-<p>One story, in particular, stuck in Allan’s memory.</p>
-
-<p>“Then there was Tom Rawlinson,” began one of the men.</p>
-
-<p>“Let Pat tell that story,” interrupted another. “Come out here, Pat. We
-want t’ hear about Tom Rawlinson an’ his last trip on th’
-Two-twenty-four.”</p>
-
-<p>So Pat came out, shyly, a tall, raw-boned man. As he got within the
-circle of light, Allan saw that his face was frightfully scarred.</p>
-
-<p>“’Twas in th’ summer o’ ninety-two,” he began. “Rawlinson had had th’
-Two-twenty-four about a month, an’ was as proud of her as a man is of
-his first baby. That day he was takin’ a big excursion train in to
-Parkersburg. He was lettin’ me ride in th’ cab, which he hadn’t any
-bus’ness t’ do, but Tom Rawlinson was th’ biggest-hearted man that ever
-pulled a lever on this road.”</p>
-
-<p>He paused a moment, and his listeners gravely nodded their approval of
-the sentiment.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, he was pullin’ up th’ hill at Torch, an’ th’ engine had on every
-pound she could carry. There was a big wind whistlin’ down th’ cut, an’
-we could hear th’ fire a-roarin’ when th’ fireman pulled open th’ door
-t’ throw in some more coal. Th’ minute th’ door was open, the wind jest
-seemed t’ sweep int’ thet fire-box, an’ the first thing I knew, a big
-sheet o’ flame was shootin’ right out in my face. I went back over that
-tender like a rabbit, without stoppin’ t’ argy th’ why an’ th’
-wherefore, an’ when I got back t’ th’ front platform o’ th’ baggage-car,
-I found that Tom an’ his fireman had come, too.</p>
-
-<p>“We stood there a minute, hardly darin’ t’ breathe, a-watchin’ thet
-fire. It licked out at th’ cab, an’ quicker’n I kin tell it, th’ wood
-was blazin’ away in great shape. Then, all of a sudden, I happened t’
-think o’ somethin’ that sent a cold chill down my back, an’ made me sick
-an’ weak. Here was we poundin’ along at forty miles an hour, with orders
-t’ take th’ sidin’ fer Number Three at th’ Junction, five mile ahead. It
-looked to me as though they’d be about a thousand people killed inside
-of a mighty few minutes.”</p>
-
-<p>He stopped to take a fresh chew of tobacco, and Allan saw that his hands
-were trembling at the memory of that fearful moment.</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” he continued, “as I was a-sayin’, I could feel my hair a-raisin’
-right up on my head. I looked around at Tom, an’ I could tell by his set
-face that he was thinkin’ of th’ same thing I was.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Boys,’ he says, low-like, ‘I’m goin’ forrerd. I’ve got to shet her
-off. I hadn’t no business t’ run away.’</p>
-
-<p>“An’ without waitin’ fer either o’ us t’ answer, forrerd he went,
-climbin’ over th’ coal an’ down into th’ burnin’ cab. It was like goin’
-into a furnace, but he never faltered—right on he went—right on into th’
-fire—an’ in a minute I felt th’ jerk as he reversed her an’ threw on th’
-brakes. It seemed t’ me as though we’d never come to a stop, but we did,
-an’ then th’ brakeman an’ me went forrerd over th’ coal t’ git Tom out.
-But it warn’t no use. He was layin’ dead on his seat, still holdin’ to
-th’ throttle.</p>
-
-<p>“We lifted him down, an’ by that time th’ conductor an’ a lot o’ th’
-passengers come a-runnin’ up. An’ then folks begun tellin’ me my face
-was burned,” and Pat indicated his scars with a rapid gesture. “Till
-then, I’d never even felt it. When y’re in it, y’ know, y’ only feel it
-fer others, not fer yourself.”</p>
-
-<p>That ended the story-telling. There was something in that tale of
-sacrifice which made other tales seem idle and empty.</p>
-
-<p>The dawn was just tingeing the sky in the east when the train rushed
-into the great, echoing train-shed at Cincinnati. The men got out and
-hurried forward to the dining-room, where a lunch of coffee and
-sandwiches awaited them. Here, too, were the train-master and division
-superintendent, trim-built, well-groomed men, with alert eyes, who knew
-the value of kind words and appreciative criticism when it came to
-managing men. Lunch was hastily eaten, and then the whole crowd
-proceeded to the special inspection train, where it stood on the
-side-track ready to start on its two hundred mile trip eastward. And a
-peculiar looking train it was—consisting, besides the engine, of only
-one car, a tall, ungainly, boarded structure, open at one end, and,
-facing the open end, tiers of seats stretching upward to the roof.</p>
-
-<p>Into this the men poured and took their seats, so that every one could
-see the long stretch of track as it slid backward under them. Almost at
-once the signal came to start, and the gaily decorated engine—draped
-from end to end in green, that all might know it was the “Irish Brigade”
-out on its inspection tour—pulled out through the “ditch,” as the deep
-cut within the city limits is called, past the vast stock-yards and out
-upon the level track beyond. Instantly silence settled upon the car,
-broken only by the puffing of the engine and the clanking of the wheels
-over the rails. Seventy pairs of eyes were bent upon the track, the
-road-bed, the right of way, noting every detail. Seventy pairs of ears
-listened to the tale the wheels were telling of the track’s condition.
-It was a serious and solemn moment.</p>
-
-<p>Allan, too, looked out upon all this, and his heart fell within him.
-Surely, no track could be more perfect, no road-bed better kept. It must
-be this section which would win the prize. Yet, when that section had
-been left behind and the next one entered on, he could detect no
-difference. How could anybody rate one section higher than another, when
-all alike were perfect? And what possible chance was there for
-Twenty-one?</p>
-
-<p>They were side-tracked at the end of an hour to allow a through
-passenger to pass, and the babel of voices arose again. But it was
-silenced at once the moment they ran out to continue on the journey.
-Hours passed, and at last, with a leaping heart, Allan recognized the
-west end of Section Twenty-one. He glanced at Jack Welsh, and saw how
-his eyes were shining, but he dared not look in his direction a second
-time. He stared out at the track and wondered if it was really here that
-he had laboured for the past week.</p>
-
-<p>Yes,—he recognized the landmarks,—the high trestle over the deep ravine,
-the cut, the long grade, the embankment along the river. It seemed
-almost that he knew every foot of the track; but he did not know it so
-well as he thought, for his eyes did not detect what Welsh’s more
-critical ones saw on the instant,—traces of gravel dug out, of whitewash
-rubbed away, of a guard-fence broken down. The gravel had been replaced,
-the whitewash touched up anew, the fence had been repaired, but Welsh
-knew that the section was not as he had left it the night before, and in
-a flash he understood.</p>
-
-<p>“It was some of Dan Nolan’s work,” he said to himself, and, the moment
-the train stopped in the yards at Wadsworth, he called to Allan and
-hurried away to the section-shanty to hear the story.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chVIII' title='VIII: GOOD NEWS AND BAD'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER VIII.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>GOOD NEWS AND BAD</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>His men were waiting for him, as he knew they would be, and the story
-was soon told. They had started out in the morning, according to his
-instructions, for a last run over the section, and soon discovered the
-work of the enemy. Ties which had been piled neatly at the side of the
-right of way had been thrown down, whitewashed boulders around the
-mile-posts had been torn up, in many places holes had been dug in the
-road-bed,—in short, the section was in a condition which not only would
-have lost them the prize, but would have brought unbearable disgrace
-upon their foreman.</p>
-
-<p>They set to work like Trojans righting the damage, for they knew they
-had only a few hours, beginning at the western end and working slowly
-back toward the city. More than once it seemed that they could not get
-through in time; but at last the work was done, just as the whistle of
-the inspection train sounded in the distance.</p>
-
-<p>“An’ mighty well done,” said Jack, approvingly, when the story was
-ended. “You’ve done noble, m’ boys, an’ I won’t fergit it! Th’ section’s
-in as good shape as it was last night.”</p>
-
-<p>“But what dirty criminal tore it up?” asked one of the men.</p>
-
-<p>“I know who it was,” and Jack reddened with anger. “It was that loafer
-of a Dan Nolan. He threatened he’d git even with me fer firin’ him, but
-I didn’t pay no attention. I didn’t think he’d got that low! Wait till I
-ketch him!”</p>
-
-<p>And his men echoed the threat in a tone that boded ill for Daniel.</p>
-
-<p>“Come on, Allan, we’ve got t’ be gittin’ back,” said Jack. “An’ thank y’
-ag’in, boys,” and together he and Allan turned back toward the waiting
-train.</p>
-
-<p>Section Twenty-one was the last inspected before dinner, which was
-awaiting them in the big depot dining-room at Wadsworth. The officers
-came down from division headquarters to shake hands with the men as they
-sat grouped about the long tables, and good-natured chaff flew back and
-forth. But at last the engine-bell announced that the green-decked train
-was ready to be off again eastward, over the last hundred miles of the
-division, which ended at Parkersburg.</p>
-
-<p>The men swarmed into their places again, and silence fell instantly as
-the train started, rattling over the switches until it was clear of the
-yards, then settling into a regular click, click, as it swung out upon
-the main line. It must be confessed that this portion of the trip had
-little interest for Allan. The monotony of it—mile after mile of track
-gliding steadily away—began to wear upon him. He was no expert in
-track-construction, and one stretch of road-bed looked to him much like
-every other. So, before long, he found himself nodding, and, when he
-straightened up with a jerk and opened his eyes, he found Jack looking
-at him with a little smile.</p>
-
-<p>They ran in upon a siding at Moonville to make way for a
-passenger-train, and Jack, beckoning to Allan, climbed out upon the
-track.</p>
-
-<p>“I kin see you’re gittin’ tired,” said Jack, as they walked up and down,
-stretching their legs. “I ought to let you stop back there at Wadsworth.
-But mebbe I kin give y’ somethin’ more interestin’ fer th’ rest o’ th’
-trip. How’d y’ like t’ ride in th’ engine?”</p>
-
-<p>Allan’s eyes sparkled.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you think I might?” he asked, eagerly.</p>
-
-<p>Jack laughed.</p>
-
-<p>“I thought that’d wake y’ up! Yes,—we’ve got Bill Higgins with us on
-this end, an’ I rather think he’ll let you ride in th’ cab. Let’s find
-out.”</p>
-
-<p>So they walked over to where the engineer was “oiling round,” in
-railroad parlance—going slowly about his engine with a long-spouted
-oil-can in one hand and a piece of waste in the other, filling the
-oil-cups, wiping off the bearings, feeling them to see if they were too
-hot, crawling under the boiler to inspect the link motion—in short,
-petting his engine much as one might pet a horse.</p>
-
-<p>“Bill,” began Jack, “this is Allan West, th’ boy thet I took on section
-with me.”</p>
-
-<p>Bill nodded, and looked at Allan with friendly eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” he said, “I’ve heerd o’ him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” continued Jack, “he’s gittin’ purty tired ridin’ back there with
-nothin’ t’ do but watch th’ track, an’ I thought mebbe you’d let him
-ride in th’ cab th’ rest o’ th’ trip.”</p>
-
-<p>“Why, sure!” agreed Bill, instantly. “Climb right up, sonny.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan needed no second invitation, but clambered up and took his place
-on one of the long seats which ran along either side of the cab. Right
-in front of him was a narrow window through which he could see the track
-stretching far ahead to meet the horizon. Below him was the door to the
-fire-box, into which the fireman was at that moment shovelling coal. At
-his side, mounted on the end of the boiler, was a maze of gauges, cocks,
-wheels, and levers, whose uses he could not even guess.</p>
-
-<p>The engineer clambered up into the cab a moment later, glanced at the
-steam and water gauges, to see that all was right, and then took his
-place on his seat. He got out his “flimsy”—the thin, manifolded
-telegraphic train order from headquarters, a copy of which had also been
-given to the conductor—and read it carefully, noting the points at which
-he was to meet certain trains and the time he was expected to make to
-each. Then he passed it over to his fireman, who also read it, according
-to the rules of the road. One man might forget some point in the orders,
-but it was not probable that two would.</p>
-
-<p>There came a long whistle far down the line, and Allan saw the through
-passenger train leap into view and came speeding toward them. It passed
-with a rush and a roar, and a minute later the conductor raised his
-hand. The engineer settled himself on his seat, pushed his lever
-forward, and opened the throttle gently, pulling it wider and wider as
-the engine gathered speed. Never for an instant did his glance waver
-from the track before him—a moment’s inattention might mean death for
-him and for the men entrusted to his care.</p>
-
-<p>There was something fascinating in watching the mighty engine eat up
-mile after mile of track. There were other things to watch, too. At
-every crossing there was the danger of an accident, and Allan was
-astonished at the chances people took in driving across the track,
-without stopping to look up and down to see if there was any danger.
-Deep in talk they were sometimes, until roused by a fierce blast from
-the whistle; or sometimes the curtains of the buggy hid them entirely
-from view. And although the right of way was private ground and
-carefully fenced in on either side, there were many stragglers along
-it,—a group of tramps boiling coffee in a fence corner, a horse or cow
-that had managed to get across a cattle-guard, children playing
-carelessly about or walking the rails in imitation of a tight-rope
-performer. All these had to be watched and warned of their danger. Never
-once did the engineer lift his hand from the throttle, for that gave him
-the “feel” of the engine, almost as the reins give the driver the “feel”
-of a spirited horse. Now and then he glanced at the steam-gauge, but
-turned back instantly to watch the track ahead.</p>
-
-<p>Nor was the fireman idle. His first duty was to keep up steam, and he
-noted every variation of the needle which showed the pressure, shaking
-down his fire, and coaling up, as occasion demanded; raking the coal
-down from the tender, so as to have it within easy reach; sweeping off
-the “deck,” as the narrow passage from engine to tender is called; and
-occasionally mounting the seat-box to ring the bell, as they passed
-through a little village.</p>
-
-<p>Allan began to understand the whistle signals—especially the two long
-and two short toots which are the signal for a crossing, the signal most
-familiar to travellers and to those who live along the line of a
-railroad. And he grew accustomed to the rocking of the engine, the
-roaring of the fire, the sudden, vicious hiss of steam when the engineer
-tested a cock, the rush of the wind and patter of cinders against the
-windows of the cab. He began to take a certain joy in it—in the noise,
-the rattle, the motion. There was an excitement in it that made his
-pulses leap.</p>
-
-<p>So they hummed along, between broad fields, through little hamlets and
-crossroads villages, mile after mile. Operators, flagmen, and
-station-agents came out to wave at them, here and there they passed a
-section-gang busy at work, now and then they paused until a freight or
-passenger could thunder past—on and on, on and on. Allan looked out at
-field and village, catching glimpses of men and women at work, of
-children at play—they would turn their faces toward him, and in another
-instant were gone. The life of the whole country was unfolded before
-him,—everywhere there were men and women working, everywhere there were
-children playing,—everywhere there was life and hope and happiness and
-sorrow. If one could only go on like this for ever, visiting new scenes,
-seeing new—</p>
-
-<p>A sharp, sudden, agonized cry from the fireman startled him out of his
-thoughts, and he felt the quick jolt as the engineer reversed his engine
-and applied the brakes. For a moment, in the shrieking, jolting
-pandemonium that followed, he thought the engine was off the track;
-then, as he glanced ahead, his heart suddenly stood still. For there,
-toddling down the track toward the engine, its little hands uplifted,
-its face sparkling with laughter, was a baby, scarce old enough to walk!</p>
-
-<p>As long as he lives Allan will never forget that moment. He realized
-that the train could not be stopped, that that little innocent, trusting
-life must be ground out beneath the wheels. He felt that he could not
-bear to see it, and turned away, but just then the fireman sprang past
-him, slammed open the little window, ran along the footboard, clambered
-down upon the pilot, and, holding to a bolt with one hand, leaned far
-over and snatched the little one into the air just as the engine bore
-down upon it. Allan, who had watched it all with bated breath, fell back
-upon his seat with a great gasp of thankfulness.</p>
-
-<div id='f112' style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:10.0%; width:80%;'>
- <img src='images/facing112.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-<p class='caption'>“SNATCHED THE LITTLE ONE INTO THE AIR JUST AS THE ENGINE BORE DOWN UPON IT”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>The engine stopped with a jerk, the fireman sprang to the ground with
-the baby in his arms. It was still crowing and laughing, and patting his
-face with its hands. Allan, looking at him, was surprised to see the
-great tears raining down his cheeks and spattering on the baby’s
-clothes.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s his kid,” said the engineer, hoarsely. “He lives up yonder,” and
-he nodded toward a little house perched on the hillside that sloped down
-to the track. “That’s th’ reason th’ kid was down here—he come down t’
-see his daddy!”</p>
-
-<p>The section-men came pouring forward to find out what was the matter,
-and surrounded the baby as soon as they heard the story, petting him,
-passing him around from hand to hand—until, suddenly, the mother, who
-had just missed him, came flying down the hill and snatched him to her
-breast.</p>
-
-<p>“Pile back in, boys,” called the conductor, cutting short the scene. “We
-can’t stay here all day. We’ve got t’ make Stewart in eighteen minutes.”</p>
-
-<p>They hurried back to their places, the engineer, stopping only to give
-his fireman a hearty grip of the hand, opened the throttle. This time
-they were off with a jump—lost time had to be made up, and in a moment
-they were singing along at a speed which seemed positively dangerous.
-The engine rocked back and forth, and seemed fairly to leap over the
-rails; the wind whistled around them; the fire roared and howled in the
-fire-box. Eighteen minutes later, they pulled in to the siding at
-Stewart, on time to the second.</p>
-
-<p>Allan had had enough of riding in the cab, and, thanking the engineer,
-and shaking hands with the fireman, he climbed down and took his seat
-again in the inspection-car. But he was very tired, and soon nodded off
-to sleep, and it was not until the train stopped and a sudden clamour of
-talk arose that he started fully awake.</p>
-
-<p>The men were handing in their reports to the superintendent, who, with
-the assistance of the train-master, was going over them rapidly to find
-out which section had received the most points. Zero was very bad; ten
-was perfection. There were no zeros on any of the seventy reports,
-however; and, let it be added, not many tens.</p>
-
-<p>The moments passed as the train-master set down in a column under each
-section the number of points it had received. Then he added up the
-columns, the superintendent looking over his shoulder. They compared the
-totals for a moment, and then, with a smile, the superintendent took
-from his pocket a check upon which the name only was lacking, and filled
-it in. Then he turned to the expectant men.</p>
-
-<p>“Gentlemen,” he began, “I think this company has cause to be
-congratulated on the condition of its road-bed. A vote of seven hundred,
-as you know, would mean perfection, and yet, not a single section has
-fallen below six hundred. The highest vote for any one section is 673,
-and that vote is given for Section Twenty-one, of which John Welsh is
-foreman. Mr. Welsh, will you please come forward and get your check?”
-and he fluttered the paper in the air above his head.</p>
-
-<p>A great burst of cheering broke forth again and again. They were
-generous men, these section-foremen of the Irish Brigade, and, seeing
-how all thought of self was forgotten, Allan’s eyes grew suddenly misty.
-Not a man there who seemed to feel the bitterness of the vanquished. But
-as Allan glanced over to Jack, who was making his way over the seats and
-stopping to return hand-shakes right and left, a cheer on his own
-account burst from the boy’s lips, and he tossed his cap wildly in the
-air.</p>
-
-<p>“Good for ye, lad!” cried one of the men, slapping the boy on his back.
-“Give him a cheer! That’s right. Give him another cheer!” and Allan was
-lifted to the shoulders of one of the brawny men, who cried: “This is
-the b’y that saved Jack Welsh’s colleen, worth more than a prize to Jack
-Welsh! Give the b’y a cheer!”</p>
-
-<p>And the men responded with a will!</p>
-
-<p>A moment later and they settled down again, as they saw the
-superintendent was waiting for their attention.</p>
-
-<p>“Welsh,” began that official, when quiet was restored, “you’re a good
-man, and I’m glad that you got the prize. But,” he added, looking around
-over the crowd, “you’re not the only good man in the Irish Brigade. The
-only thing I’m sorry for is that I can’t give a prize to every man here.
-I’m like the Dodo in ‘Alice in Wonderland’—I think you’ve all won, and
-that you all ought to have prizes. I want to thank you every one for
-your good work. I’m not overstating things a bit when I say that this
-division is in better shape than any other on the road. We’ve had fewer
-accidents, and we’ve run our trains closer to the schedule than any
-other—all of which is largely due to your good work. I’m proud of my
-Irish Brigade!”</p>
-
-<p>They cheered him and clapped him, and every man there resolved to do
-better work, if possible, in the coming year than he had done in the
-past one.</p>
-
-<p>And yet there were some of the officials in the far-distant general
-offices at Baltimore who wondered why the superintendent of the Ohio
-division was so popular with his men!</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk' />
-
-<p>Jack came to Allan at last and gripped his hand with a strength that
-proved how deep his emotion was.</p>
-
-<p>“Come on,” he said. “We’re goin’ home on Number Seven. It’ll start in a
-minute.”</p>
-
-<p>They went together across the tracks and clambered into the coach. Allan
-caught a confused picture of a glare of lights and laughing people
-crowding past. But hardly had the train started when his head fell back
-against the seat, and slumber claimed him.</p>
-
-<p>Jack waked him up at the journey’s end, and together they hurried
-through the yards and up the steep path to the little cottage. Jack’s
-wife was awaiting him in the doorway, and he drew forth the check and
-placed it in her hands.</p>
-
-<p>“We won,” he said, softly. “’Twas fer you, Mary, I wanted t’ win. It
-means th’ new dress you’ve been a-needin’ so long, an’ a dress fer
-Mamie; yes, an’ a new carpet.”</p>
-
-<p>The wife said not a single word, but drew Jack’s face down to hers and
-kissed it.</p>
-
-<p>“Only,” he added, when his head was lifted, “I want t’ give tin dollars
-of it t’ th’ boys—I’d ’a’ lost if it hadn’t been fer them. An’
-Reddy—how’s old Reddy?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, Jack!” she cried, her eyes suffused with sudden tears, her lips
-a-tremble, “it’s too terrible! He’s come to, but he don’t remember
-nothin’—not a thing! He don’t know anybody—not even his own wife, Jack,
-nor th’ childer, an’ th’ doctor says that maybe he never will!”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chIX' title='IX: REDDY’S EXPLOIT'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER IX.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>REDDY’S EXPLOIT</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>As time went on, it became more and more evident that the doctor’s
-prediction with regard to Reddy Magraw was to be fulfilled. He regained
-his strength, but the light seemed quite gone from his brain. The
-officials of the railroad company did all they could for poor Reddy.
-When the local doctors failed, they brought an eminent specialist from
-Cincinnati for consultation, but all seemed to agree there was nothing
-to be done but to wait. There was one chance in a thousand that a
-surgical operation might prove of benefit, but there was just as great a
-chance that Nature herself might do the work better.</p>
-
-<p>Reddy remembered nothing of his past life. More than this, it gradually
-became evident to his friends that his genial nature had undergone a
-change through the darkness that had overtaken his brain. He grew
-estranged from his family, and strangely suspicious of some of his
-friends, those to whom he had really been most attached. Among these
-last was Allan. He would have nothing whatever to do with the boy.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s one of the most ordinary symptoms of dementia,” the doctor had
-explained, when Jack questioned him about it. “Aversion to friends is
-what we always expect. His wife feels it more keenly than you do.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course she does, poor woman!” agreed Jack. “But he hasn’t got to
-abusin’ her, sir, has he?”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, no; he doesn’t abuse her; he just avoids her, and shows his dislike
-in other ways. If he begins to abuse her, we’ll have to send him to
-the asylum. But I don’t anticipate any violence—I think he’s quite
-harmless.”</p>
-
-<p>It was while they were sitting on the porch one evening discussing the
-sad situation of their friend, that Allan turned suddenly to Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you remember,” he said, “that first noon we were talking together,
-you started to tell me of some brave thing Reddy had done, and he shut
-you off?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” Jack nodded; “I remember.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tell me now, won’t you? I’d like to hear about it.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right,” said Jack, and told the story. Here it is:</p>
-
-<p>Six years before, Reddy Magraw had been one of the labourers at the big
-coal-chute which towered into the air at the eastern end of the yards;
-just an ordinary labourer, working early and late, as every labourer for
-a railroad must, but then, as always, happy and care-free.</p>
-
-<p>It was one afternoon in June that a message flashed into the
-despatcher’s office which sent the chief despatcher headlong into the
-office of the superintendent.</p>
-
-<p>“The operator at Baker’s just called me up, sir,” he gasped, “to report
-that second Ninety-seven ran through there, going forty miles an hour,
-and that the engineer dropped a message tied to a wrench saying his
-throttle-valve had stuck, and his brakes wouldn’t work, and that he
-couldn’t stop his engine!”</p>
-
-<p>The superintendent started to his feet, his face livid.</p>
-
-<p>“They’ll be here in eight minutes,” he said. “Where’s Number Four?”</p>
-
-<p>“Just past Roxabel. We can’t catch her, and the freight will run into
-her sure if we let it through the yards.”</p>
-
-<p>“We won’t let it through the yards,” said the superintendent, and went
-down the stairs three steps at a time, and sped away in the direction of
-the coal-chute.</p>
-
-<p>He had reflected rapidly that if the freight could be derailed at the
-long switch just below the chute, it could be run into a gravel bank,
-where it would do much less damage than farther up in the yards, among
-the network of switches there. He ran his swiftest, but as he reached
-the chute, he heard, far down the track, the roar of the approaching
-train. Evidently it was not yet under control. Reddy Magraw heard the
-roar, too, and straightened up in amazement. Why should a freight
-approach the yards at that speed? Then he saw the superintendent tugging
-madly at the switch.</p>
-
-<p>“Thet switch won’t work, sir,” he said. “A yard ingine hit the p’int
-about an hour ago an’ jammed it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Won’t work!” echoed the superintendent, and stared blankly down the
-track at the train which every second was whirling nearer.</p>
-
-<p>“Is it a runaway?” asked Reddy, suddenly understanding.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,—a runaway,—maybe I can make the other switch,” and he started
-away, but Reddy caught him by the arm.</p>
-
-<p>“Wait, sir,” he cried; “wait. We’ll fix ’em—throw ’em on to th’ chute.”</p>
-
-<p>“On to the chute?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, on to th’ chute. Throw th’ switch there,” and Reddy, grabbing up
-two big cans of oil, started for the track leading to the long ascent.</p>
-
-<p>Then the superintendent understood, and, with a gasp of relief, ran to
-the switch and threw it.</p>
-
-<p>Up the steep ascent ran Reddy, a can in either hand, spurting streams of
-oil upon the rails—up and up—yet it seemed that he must certainly be
-caught and hurled to death, for a moment later the great freight-engine
-reached the structure, which groaned and trembled under this
-unaccustomed weight. Up the incline it mounted, the weight of the train
-behind it urging it on. Half-way up, two-thirds, almost upon Reddy,
-where he bent over the rails, a can in either hand, never pausing to
-look back.</p>
-
-<p>From under the pounding drivers the smoke flew in clouds—the oil was
-being burned by friction. Yet down the rails flowed more oil; the
-drivers were sliding now, the speed of the train was
-lessening—lessening. The engine was racking itself out, its power was
-spent, it had been conquered. For an instant it hung poised on the
-incline, then slowly started down again. The crew had managed to set the
-hand-brakes, and these held the train somewhat, but still it coasted
-back down that incline at a speed that brought the watchers’ hearts into
-their throats. The wheels held the rails, however, and a quarter of a
-mile back on the main line it stopped, its power for evil exhausted. And
-just then Number Four whistled for signal, and rumbled slowly into the
-other end of the yards. The superintendent drew a deep breath of relief
-and thankfulness as he thought of what the result would have been had
-the runaway not been stopped in time.</p>
-
-<p>“Was Reddy hurt?” asked Allan, who had listened to the story
-breathlessly.</p>
-
-<p>“Hurt? Oh, no; he come down th’ chute, put th’ empty oil-cans back in
-their places, an’ went t’ work ag’in.”</p>
-
-<p>“But didn’t the company do something for him?” persisted the boy.
-“Wasn’t he rewarded?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Jack, puffing away at his pipe with a very grim face; “but
-th’ superintendent was promoted.”</p>
-
-<p>“The superintendent?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes; he got his promotion. Y’ see, in his report of th’ accident, he
-somehow fergot t’ mention Reddy.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan flushed with a sudden generous anger.</p>
-
-<p>“But,” he began, “that wasn’t—”</p>
-
-<p>“Honest?” and Jack laughed a little bitterly. “No, maybe not; but what
-could a poor feller like Reddy do about it? Only,” he added, “it’s jest
-as well fer that superintendent he didn’t stay on this division. Th’
-boys would ’a’ given him some mighty lively times. We’ve got a gentleman
-fer a superintendent now. He don’t try t’ stale nobody else’s
-thunder—he’s given Reddy a square deal this time.”</p>
-
-<p>Truth to tell, Reddy’s family was being better provided for than it had
-ever been—the superintendent saw to that; and Reddy himself was
-receiving the best medical attention to be secured, though it seemed
-more and more certain that even the greatest skill would be unable to
-restore his memory.</p>
-
-<p>It was long before sleep came to Allan’s eyes that night, so excited was
-he over Jack’s story of Reddy’s exploit, and so indignant at the
-injustice that had been done him. He was thinking about it still, next
-day, until, of a sudden, he was forcibly reminded that he also possessed
-an enemy who was watching eagerly for an opportunity to injure him, and
-who would pause at no treachery.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chX' title='X: A SUMMONS IN THE NIGHT'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER X.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>A SUMMONS IN THE NIGHT</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>This reminder came that very afternoon while he was working at the
-bottom of the deep cut through the spur of the hill which marked the top
-of the long, stiff grade just west of the mill switch.</p>
-
-<p>The other members of the gang were at the farther end of the cut, and
-Allan had just finished levelling down a pile of gravel, when he heard a
-sudden shout of warning from Jack.</p>
-
-<p>“Look out, Allan!” cried the latter. “Look out!”</p>
-
-<p>Allan instinctively sprang aside, and was just in time to escape a large
-boulder which came crashing down the side of the cut.</p>
-
-<p>Allan gazed at it in astonishment, drawing a deep breath at his escape.
-Then he saw Jack, followed by the others, charging madly up the side of
-the hill. Without stopping to reason why, he followed.</p>
-
-<div id='f128' style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:10.0%; width:80%;'>
- <img src='images/facing128.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-<p class='caption'>“JUST IN TIME TO ESCAPE A LARGE BOULDER”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>“What’s the matter?” he cried, as he came panting up behind the ones who
-had just gained the hilltop.</p>
-
-<p>“Matter!” cried Jack, glaring around to right and left over the
-hillside. “Matter enough! What d’ y’ suppose made that rock fall that
-way?”</p>
-
-<p>“Why,” said Allan, looking around bewildered, “the earth under it must
-have given way—”</p>
-
-<p>“Nonsense!” interrupted the foreman, impatiently. “Look, here’s th’ hole
-it left. Th’ earth didn’t give way a bit. Y’ kin see th’ rock was pried
-out—yes, an’ here’s th’ rail that was used to do it with. Now, who d’ y’
-suppose had hold of that rail?”</p>
-
-<p>Allan turned a little giddy at the question.</p>
-
-<p>“Not Dan Nolan?” he said, in an awed whisper.</p>
-
-<p>“Who else but Dan Nolan. An’ he’s hidin’ down there in one o’ them
-gullies, sneakin’ along, keepin’ out o’ sight, or I’m mistaken.”</p>
-
-<p>“Did you see him?” asked Allan.</p>
-
-<p>“No, I didn’t see him,” retorted Jack. “If I’d seen him, I’d have him in
-jail afore night, if I had t’ hunt this whole county over fer him. But I
-know it was him. Who else could it be? You know he’s threatened y’. He’s
-been hangin’ around doggin’ y’ ever since I put y’ at this job. There’s
-more’n one of us knows that; an’ there’s more’n one of us knows, too,
-that he wouldn’t be above jest this kind o’ work. He lamed a man on my
-gang, onct, jest because he had a grudge ag’in him—dropped th’ end of a
-rail on his foot an’ mashed it so bad that it had t’ be taken off. He
-said it was an accident, an’ I believed him, fer I didn’t know him as
-well then as I do now. He wouldn’t stop at murder, Dan Nolan
-wouldn’t—why, that rock would ’a’ killed you in a minute, if it had hit
-you!”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I believe it would,” said Allan, and he shivered a little at the
-thought of his narrow escape.</p>
-
-<p>Jack took another long look around at the hills and valleys, but if
-Nolan was anywhere among them, the trees and underbrush hid him
-effectually. And Allan was loth to believe Jack’s theory; bad as Nolan
-was, it seemed incredible that he should be so savage, so cold-blooded,
-as to lie there on the brink of the precipice, waiting, moment by
-moment, until his victim should be in the precise spot where the rock
-would strike him. That seemed too fiendish for belief.</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t like to think Nolan did it,” he said, a little hoarsely,
-“unless I had some proof. You didn’t see him, you know—”</p>
-
-<p>“See him!” echoed Jack. “No—I didn’t need to see him! There’s th’ hole
-th’ stone was pried out of, an’ there’s th’ rail that was used fer a
-lever. Now who had hold o’ that rail? Ain’t Nolan th’ only enemy you’ve
-got in th’ world?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” said Allan, in a low voice; “yes, I believe he is.”</p>
-
-<p>“An’ do you suppose a feller would lay fer you like that unless he had
-somethin’ ag’in you? I tell you, Dan Nolan’s hidin’ down there in the
-bushes somewhere, an’ lookin’ up here at us an’ swearin’ because he
-didn’t git you!” and Jack shook his fist impatiently at the horizon. “If
-I had him under my heel, I’d kill him like I would a snake!”</p>
-
-<p>Which, of course, Jack wouldn’t have done, but his honest Irish blood
-was boiling at this moment, and he said more than he meant.</p>
-
-<p>“Come on, boys,” he added, calming himself by a mighty effort, “we can’t
-ketch him now, but we’ll git th’ scoundrel yet!” and he started down the
-hill, a savage scowl still on his face.</p>
-
-<p>The incident had cast a shadow over the spirits of the gang, and they
-worked the rest of the afternoon in silence. Indeed, ever since Reddy’s
-accident, the gang had lacked that spirit of optimism and gaiety which
-had marked it; a new man had been taken on, but while he did Reddy’s
-work fairly well, he could not take Reddy’s place in the hearts of the
-men. Their day’s work lacked the savour which Reddy’s wit had given it,
-and they went home at night more weary than had been their wont. Jack
-saw, too, that their work had lost some of its alacrity, and yet he had
-no heart to find fault with them.</p>
-
-<p>But he took no more chances of Allan’s suffering any treacherous injury.
-He had talked the matter over with his wife, and between them, they had
-laid out a plan of action. Whenever possible, Jack kept Allan near him.
-When that was not possible, he took care that the boy should not be
-alone at any spot where his enemy could sneak up on him from behind. He
-knew if the boy was injured through any carelessness or lack of
-foresight on his part, he would never dare to go home again and face his
-wife!</p>
-
-<p>All of this was, of course, plain enough to Allan, and chafed him
-somewhat, for he did not want the rest of the gang to think him a baby
-who needed constant looking after. Besides, he had an honest reliance on
-his ability to look after himself. So, one day, he ventured to protest.</p>
-
-<p>“See here, Jack,” he said, “I’m not afraid of Dan Nolan. In fact, I
-think I’d be rather glad of the chance to meet him in a fair stand-up
-fight.”</p>
-
-<p>“An’ that’s just th’ chance he’ll never give ye,” retorted Jack. “I
-wouldn’t be afeerd o’ him, either, if he’d fight fair—I believe y’ could
-lick him. But he won’t fight fair. Th’ coward’ll hit y’ from behind, if
-he kin—an’ he’s waitin’ his chance. That’s his kind, as y’ ought t’ know
-by this time. Oh, if I could only ketch him!”</p>
-
-<p>But since the afternoon that great rock had fallen, Nolan had utterly
-disappeared from his accustomed haunts. Jack made diligent inquiries,
-but could get no news of him. The gang of scalawags who were his usual
-companions professed to be utterly ignorant of his whereabouts. He had
-been sleeping in a little closet back of one of the low railroad
-saloons, paying for board and lodging by cleaning out the place every
-morning, but the proprietor of the place said he had not been near there
-for a week. So at last Jack dropped his inquiries, hoping against hope
-that Nolan had taken alarm and left the neighbourhood.</p>
-
-<p>Reddy continued to improve physically from day to day, but mentally he
-grew worse and worse. His broken arm had healed nicely, and the wound in
-his head was quite well, but the injury to the brain baffled all the
-skill of his physicians. He would sit around the house, moping,
-seemingly taking notice of nothing; then he would suddenly start up and
-walk rapidly away as though he had just remembered some important
-engagement. Frequently he would be gone all day, sometimes even all
-night. He was rarely at home at meal-times, and yet he never seemed to
-be hungry.</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Magraw could never find out from him where he spent all this time.
-He refused to answer her questions, until, seeing how they vexed him,
-she ceased from bothering him, and let him go his own way. Of her bitter
-hours of despair and weeping, she allowed him to see nothing, but tried
-always to present to him the same cheerful and smiling countenance she
-had worn in the old days before his injury. In spite of this, he grew
-more and more morose, more and more difficult to get along with. The
-doctor advised that he be taken to an asylum, but the very word filled
-his wife with a nameless dread, and she prayed that he might be left in
-her care a little while longer. Perhaps he might grow better; at any
-rate, unless he grew worse, she could look after him.</p>
-
-<p>One morning, about a week after the attempt upon Allan’s life, he and
-Jack were working together on the embankment by the river’s edge, when
-the foreman stopped suddenly, straightened himself, and, shading his
-eyes with his hand, gazed long and earnestly across the water. Allan,
-following his look, saw two men sitting by a clump of willows, talking
-earnestly together. Their figures seemed familiar, but it was not until
-one of them leaped to his feet, waving his arms excitedly, that he
-recognized him as Reddy Magraw.</p>
-
-<p>“Who is the other one?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s Dan Nolan,” said the foreman between his teeth. “What deviltry d’
-y’ suppose he’s puttin’ int’ that poor feller’s head?”</p>
-
-<p>Allan did not answer, but a strange foreboding fell upon him as he
-watched Reddy’s excited oratory. Then the two watchers saw Nolan
-suddenly pull Reddy down, and together they vanished behind the trees.</p>
-
-<p>What could it mean? Allan asked himself. What villainy was Dan Nolan
-plotting? Was he trying to make poor, half-witted Reddy his instrument
-for the commission of some crime?</p>
-
-<p>Jack, too, worked away in unaccustomed silence and unusual heaviness of
-heart, for he was asking himself the same questions. Something must be
-done; Reddy must not be led into any mischief; and no influence which
-Nolan might gain over him could be anything but bad. It was like the
-coward to try to get another man to do what he himself shrank from
-doing.</p>
-
-<p>The morning passed and noon came, but neither Jack nor Allan had relish
-for their dinner—the incident of the morning had spoiled their
-appetites.</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll have t’ look out after Reddy some way,” said Jack, at last, and
-then fell silent again.</p>
-
-<p>They were soon back at work, and Allan, busy with his thoughts, did not
-notice that the air grew chill and the sky overcast.</p>
-
-<p>“The’ll be a storm t’-night,” observed Jack at last, looking around at
-the sky.</p>
-
-<p>“’Fore night,” said one of the workmen. “We’ll be havin’ to quit work
-purty soon.”</p>
-
-<p>Even to an unpractised eye, the signs were unmistakable. Down from the
-north great banks of black clouds were sweeping, and the wind felt
-strangely cold, even for the last days of October. At last came the
-swift patter of the rain, and then a swirl of great, soft, fleecy
-flakes.</p>
-
-<p>“Snow!” cried Jack. “Well, ’f I ever!”</p>
-
-<p>All stopped to watch the unaccustomed spectacle of snow in October. It
-fell thick and fast, the flakes meeting and joining in the air into big
-splotches of snow, which melted almost as soon as it touched the ground.
-Two of the men, who had been blotted from sight for a moment, came
-hurrying toward the others.</p>
-
-<p>“We might as well quit,” said Jack. “We can’t work this kind o’
-weather;” and so they started homeward through the storm, an hour before
-the usual time.</p>
-
-<p>As the evening passed, the storm grew heavier and more violent. Looking
-out from the window after supper, Allan found that the whole world was
-shut from sight behind that swirling white curtain. From time to time he
-could hear the faint rumble of a train in the yards below, but no gleam
-of the engine’s headlight penetrated to him.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a bad night fer railroadin’,” Jack remarked, looking out beside
-him. “A bad night. Th’ rails ’r so slippy th’ wheels can’t grip ’em, an’
-th’ engineer might as well shut his eyes fer all th’ good his headlight
-does him. An’ th’ brakeman—fancy runnin’ along th’ two-foot path on the
-top of a train in a storm like this!”</p>
-
-<p>But trainmen cannot stop for wind or weather, darkness or stress of
-storm, and the trains rumbled in and out through the night, most of them
-behind time, to be sure, but feeling their way along as best they could,
-while up in the offices the despatchers, with tense nerves and knitted
-brows, struggled to maintain order in the midst of chaos. The wires were
-working badly, every train on the road was behind the schedule; out at
-some of the little stations, the operators, unused to the strain, were
-growing nervous. The superintendent closed his desk with a bang, after
-dictating the last letter; but instead of going home, as usual, he stood
-around with his hands in his pockets, listening to the wildly clicking
-instruments, and chewing a cigar savagely.</p>
-
-<p>Allan lay for a long time that night listening to the trains, thinking
-of the wonderful system by which the great business was managed. He
-could understand, as yet, only a little of this system, and he was
-hungering to know more. Then the scene of the morning came back to him,
-and he tossed from side to side, thinking of it. Poor Reddy—yes, he
-needed looking after if Dan Nolan had got hold of him. Reddy’s mind was
-more that of a child than of a man at present. What an evil influence
-Dan might have over him if he cared to use it!</p>
-
-<p>At last sleep came; but in an instant he was back again at the river
-bank peering across at the figures on the other side. They were talking
-together; they seemed to be quarrelling. Then, suddenly, Nolan caught
-the other by the throat and hurled him backward over the bank into the
-water. Reddy sank with a wild cry; then his head reappeared, and he
-caught a glimpse of the boy standing on the farther bank.</p>
-
-<p>“Allan!” he cried, stretching out his arms imploringly. “Allan!”</p>
-
-<p>Allan sat bolt upright, rubbing his eyes, straining his ears to hear the
-call again.</p>
-
-<p>“Allan!”</p>
-
-<p>It was Jack’s voice,—he knew it now,—but the dawn was not peeping in at
-the window, as was usual when Jack called him. He realized that the
-night had not yet passed. He caught a glimmer of yellow light under his
-door and heard Jack putting on his boots in the room below.</p>
-
-<p>Fully awake at last, he sprang out of bed and opened the door.</p>
-
-<p>“What is it?” he called down the stair. “Do you want me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes. Hurry up,” answered Jack’s voice.</p>
-
-<p>Allan threw on his clothes with trembling hands, and hastened
-down-stairs. He found Jack already at table, eating hastily.</p>
-
-<p>“Set down,” said the latter, “an’ fill up. It’s mighty uncertain when
-ye’ll git another square meal.”</p>
-
-<p>“We’re going out?” asked the boy. “Then there’s a wreck?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, a wreck—freight, near Vinton. Th’ caller jest come fer me. It’s so
-bad all th’ section-gangs on this end ’r ordered out. Eat all y’ kin.
-Better drink some coffee, too. Y’ll need it.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXI' title='XI: CLEARING THE TRACK'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XI.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>CLEARING THE TRACK</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>Allan did his best to force himself to eat, but the strangeness of the
-hour and the excitement of the promised adventure took all desire for
-food from him. He managed, however, to drink a cup of coffee, but his
-hands were trembling so with excitement he could scarcely hold the cup.
-It was a wreck, and a bad one. How terrible to lose a moment! He was
-eager to be off. But Jack knew from experience the value and need of
-food while it could be obtained, in view of what might be before them.</p>
-
-<p>“It’ll take ’em some time t’ git’ th’ wreckin’-train ready,” he said.
-“Git our waterproofs, Mary.”</p>
-
-<p>But Mary had them waiting, as well as a lot of sandwiches. She had been
-through such scenes before.</p>
-
-<p>“There, stuff your pockets full,” she said to Allan. “You’ll want ’em.”</p>
-
-<p>Jack nodded assent, and took his share.</p>
-
-<p>“And now, good-bye, Mary,” said Jack. “No, don’t wake the baby. If we
-git back by t’-morrer night, we’ll be lucky. Come on, Allan.”</p>
-
-<p>The snow was still falling heavily as they left the house, and they made
-their way with some difficulty to the corner of the yards where the
-wrecking-train stood on its spur of siding. A score of section-men had
-already gathered, and more were coming up every minute. Nobody knew
-anything definite about the wreck—some one had heard that Bill Miller,
-the engineer, was hurt. It seemed they were taking a doctor along, for
-Allan saw his tall form in the uncertain light. And the train-master and
-division superintendent were with him, talking together in low tones.</p>
-
-<p>Jack began checking off his men as they came up and reported.</p>
-
-<p>An engine backed up and coupled on to the wrecking-train, and the men
-slowly clambered aboard. The switch at the end of the siding was opened.</p>
-
-<p>“How many men have you got, Welsh?” asked Mr. Schofield, the
-train-master.</p>
-
-<p>“Thirty-six, so far, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right. We’ll pick up the gangs on Twenty-three and four as we pass.
-Go ahead,” he shouted to the engineer. “We’ve got a clear track to
-Vinton,” and he followed Allan and Jack up the steps into the car.</p>
-
-<p>There was a hiss of steam into the cylinders and the train pulled slowly
-out upon the main track, the wheels slipping over the rails at first,
-but gripping better as the train gathered headway and shot eastward into
-the whirling snow. Operators, switchmen, station-agents, flagmen, all
-looked out to see it pass. It had only two cars—one, a long flat car
-loaded with ties and rails, piled with ropes and jacks and crowbars. At
-one end stood the heavy steel derrick, strong enough to lift even a
-great mogul of a freight-engine and swing it clear of the track.</p>
-
-<p>In the other car, which looked very much like an overgrown box-car, was
-the powerful donkey-engine which worked the derrick, more tools, a
-cooking-stove, and a number of narrow cots. Two oil-lanterns swung from
-the roof, half-illuminating the faces of the men, who sat along the
-edges of the cots, talking together in low tones.</p>
-
-<p>At Byers, the section-gang from Twenty-three clambered aboard; at Hamden
-came the gangs from Twenty-four and Twenty-five. Nearly sixty men were
-crowded together in the car; but there was little noise. It reminded
-Allan of a funeral.</p>
-
-<p>And it was a funeral. The great railroad, binding East to West, was
-lying dead, its back broken, useless, its circulation stopped. The line
-was blocked, the track torn up—it was no longer warm, living, vital. It
-had been torn asunder. It was a mere useless mass of wood and steel.
-These men were hastening to resurrect it, to make it whole again.</p>
-
-<p>At McArthur the superintendent came aboard with a yellow paper in his
-hand,—the conductor’s report of the accident,—and he and the
-train-master bent their heads together over it. The men watched them
-intently.</p>
-
-<p>“Is it a bad one, sir?” asked Jack at last.</p>
-
-<p>“Bad enough,” answered the superintendent. “It seems that first
-Ninety-eight broke in two on the grade just beyond Vinton. Track so
-slippery they couldn’t hold, and she ran back into the second section.
-They came together in the cut at the foot of the grade, and fifteen cars
-loaded with nut coal were wrecked. Miller seems the only one hurt, but
-the track’s torn up badly.”</p>
-
-<p>“Nut coal!” said Jack, with a whistle. “We’ve got our work cut out for
-us, boys.”</p>
-
-<p>The men nodded—they knew now what to expect. And they fell to talking
-together in low tones, telling stories of past wrecks, of feats of
-endurance in the breathless battle which always follows when this
-leviathan of steel is torn asunder. But the superintendent had used one
-word which Allan had not wholly understood, and he took the first
-opportunity to ask Jack about it.</p>
-
-<p>“What did Mr. Heywood mean, Jack,” he inquired, “when he said the train
-broke in two?”</p>
-
-<p>“That’s so,” and Jack laughed. “It’s your first one—I’d forgot that. I
-wish it was mine,” and he forthwith explained just how the accident had
-probably happened.</p>
-
-<p>A “break-in-two” occurs usually as a train is topping a heavy grade. The
-unusual strain breaks a coupling-pin or pulls out a draw-bar, and the
-portion of the train released from the engine goes whirling back down
-the grade, carrying death and destruction with it, unless the crew can
-set the brakes and get it stopped. Or, on a down-grade, a coupling-pin
-jumps out and then the two sections come together with a crash, unless
-the engineer sees the danger in time, and runs away at full speed from
-the pursuing section. It is only freights that “break in two,” for
-passenger couplings are made heavy enough to withstand any strain;
-besides, the moment a passenger-train parts, the air-brakes
-automatically stop both sections. But to freight crews there is no
-danger more menacing than the “break-in-two,” although, happily, this
-danger is gradually growing less and less, with the introduction of
-air-brakes on freight-cars as well as passenger.</p>
-
-<p>Freight-trains, when traffic is heavy, are usually run in sections, with
-as many cars to each section as an engine can handle. The sections are
-run as close together as they can be with safety, and, in railroad
-parlance, the first section of Freight-train Ninety-eight, for instance,
-is known as “first Ninety-eight”; the second section as “second
-Ninety-eight,” and so on.</p>
-
-<p>In this instance, the first section of Train Ninety-eight had broken in
-two at the top of a long grade, and fifteen coal-cars, together with the
-caboose, had gone hurtling back down the grade, finally crashing into
-the front end of the second section, which was following about a mile
-behind. The conductor and brakemen, who were in the caboose, after a
-vain attempt to stop the runaway cars with the hand-brakes, had jumped
-off, and escaped with slight bruises, but the engineer and fireman of
-the second section had had no warning of their danger until the cars
-swept down upon them out of the storm. There was no time to jump—it
-would have been folly to jump, anyhow, since the high walls of the cut
-shut them in on either side; yet the fireman had escaped almost unhurt,
-only the engineer being badly injured. The impact of the collision had
-been terrific, and, as the telegram from the conductor stated, fifteen
-cars had been completely wrecked.</p>
-
-<p>So much the section-men understood from the superintendent’s brief
-description, and Jack explained it to Allan, while the others listened,
-putting in a word of correction now and then.</p>
-
-<p>On and on sped the wrecking-train through the night. The oil-lamps
-flared and flickered, throwing a yellow, feeble light down into the car,
-where the men sat crowded together, for the most part silent now,
-figuring on the task before them. It was evident that it would be no
-easy one, but they had confidence in their officers,—the same confidence
-that soldiers have in a general whose ability has been fully tested,—and
-they knew that the task would be made as easy as might be.</p>
-
-<p>The atmosphere of the car grew close to suffocation. Every one, almost,
-was smoking, and the lamps soon glowed dimly through the smoke like the
-sun upon a foggy day. Outside, the snow still fell, thickly, softly;
-their engineer could not see the track twenty feet ahead; but the
-superintendent had told him that the way was clear, so he kept his
-throttle open and plunged blindly on into the night, for every moment
-was valuable now; every nerve must be strained to the utmost tension
-until the task of clearing the track had been accomplished.</p>
-
-<p>So the fireman bent steadily to the work of keeping up steam, clanging
-the door of the fire-box back and forth between each shovelful of coal,
-in order to keep the draught full strength. The flames licked out at him
-each time the door was opened, lighting the cab with yellow gleams,
-which danced across the polished metal and illumined dimly the silent
-figure of the engineer peering forward into the storm. The engine rocked
-and swayed, the wind swirled and howled about it, and tried to hold it
-back, but on and on it plunged, never pausing, never slackening. Any one
-who was on the track to-night must look out for himself; but, luckily,
-the right of way was clear, crossing after crossing was passed without
-accident; the train tore through little hamlets, awakening strange
-echoes among the darkened houses, and, as it passed, the operator would
-run out to look at it, and, after a single glance, would rush back to
-his key, call frantically for “G I,”—the despatcher’s office,—and tick
-in the message that the wrecking-train had got that far on its journey.</p>
-
-<p>Back in the wrecking-car the superintendent had taken out his watch and
-sat with it a moment in his hand.</p>
-
-<p>“We’re going a mile a minute,” he remarked to the train-master. “Higgins
-is certainly hitting her up.”</p>
-
-<p>The train-master nodded and turned again to the conductor’s report. He
-was planning every detail of the battle which must be fought.</p>
-
-<p>Jack glanced at Allan, and smiled.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re wonderin’ how he could tell how fast we’re going, ain’t ye?” he
-asked.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” said Allan, “I am. How did he tell?”</p>
-
-<p>“By listenin’ t’ th’ click o’ th’ wheels over th’ rails,” answered Jack.
-“Each rail’s thirty foot long—that is, there’s a hundred an’ seventy-six
-to th’ mile. Mister Heywood probably kept tab on them fer fifteen
-seconds and counted forty-four clicks, so he knowed we was goin’ a mile
-a minute.”</p>
-
-<p>“Here we are,” remarked the train-master, as the wheels clanked over a
-switch, and, sure enough, a moment later their speed began to slacken.</p>
-
-<p>Jack looked down at Allan and grinned again, as he saw the astonishment
-written on the boy’s face.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re wonderin’ how Mr. Schofield could tell that, ain’t you?” he
-asked. “Why, bless you, he knows this here division like a book. Put him
-down on any part of it blindfolded and he’ll tell you right where he is.
-He knows every foot of it.”</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps Jack exaggerated unconsciously, but there was no doubt that Mr.
-Schofield, like every other good train-master, knew his division
-thoroughly—the location of every switch, the length of every siding, the
-position of every signal, the capacity of every engine. Nay, more, he
-knew the disposition of every conductor and engineer. When Milliken, for
-instance, wired in a protest that he couldn’t take another load, he
-would smile placidly and repeat his previous orders; if Rogers made the
-same complaint, he would wire back tersely, “All right.” He knew that
-Milliken was always complaining, while Rogers never did without cause.
-He knew his track, his equipment, and his men—and that is, no doubt, the
-reason why, to-day, he is superintendent of one of the most important
-divisions of the system.</p>
-
-<p>The wrecking-train slowed and stopped, and the men clambered painfully
-to the ground, and went forward to take a look at the task before them.
-It was evident in a moment that it was a bigger one than any had
-anticipated—so big, indeed, that it seemed to Allan, at least, that it
-would be far easier to build a new track around the place than to try to
-open the old one. From side to side of the deep cut, even with the top,
-the coal was heaped, mixed with splintered boards and twisted iron that
-had once been freight-cars. High on the bank perched the engine, thrown
-there by the mighty blow that had been dealt it. On either side were
-broken and splintered cars, and the track was torn and twisted in a way
-that seemed almost beyond repair. It was a scene of chaos such as the
-boy had never before witnessed, and even the old, tried section-men were
-staggered when they looked at it. It seemed impossible that anything so
-puny as mere human strength could make any impression upon that tangled,
-twisted mass.</p>
-
-<p>The doctor hurried away to attend to the injured engineer, who had been
-removed to the caboose by the crew of the second section, while the
-officers went forward to look over the battle-field. At the end of three
-minutes they had prepared their plan of action, and the men responded
-with feverish energy. Great cables were run out and fastened to the
-shattered frames of the coal-cars, which were dragged out of the mass of
-wreckage by the engine, and then hoisted from the track and thrown to
-one side out of the way. The donkey-engine puffed noisily away, while
-the derrick gripped trucks and wheels and masses of twisted iron and
-splintered beams, and swung them high on the bank beside the road with
-an ease almost superhuman. The men went to work with a will, under the
-supervision of the officers, dragging out the smaller pieces of
-wreckage. Hour after hour they toiled, until, at last, only the coal
-remained—a great, shifting, treacherous mass—ton upon ton—fifteen
-car-loads—a veritable mountain of coal. And here the derrick could be of
-no use—there was only one way to deal with it. It must be shovelled from
-the track by hand!</p>
-
-<p>It was a task beside which the labours of Hercules seemed small by
-comparison. But no one stopped to think about its enormousness—it had to
-be done, and done as quickly as possible. In a few moments, sixty
-shovels were attacking the mighty mass, rising and falling with a dogged
-persistence which, in the end, must conquer any obstacle.</p>
-
-<p>Dawn found the men at this trying work. At seven o’clock hot coffee and
-sandwiches were served out to them, and they stopped work for ten
-minutes to swallow the food. At eight, a cold rain began to fall, that
-froze into sleet upon the ground, so that the men could scarcely stand.
-Still they laboured doggedly on. Train-master and superintendent were
-everywhere, encouraging the men, making certain that not a blow was
-wasted, themselves taking a hand now and then, with pick or shovel.
-There was no thought of rest; human nature must be pushed to its utmost
-limit of endurance—this great leviathan of steel and oak must be made
-whole again. All along its two hundred miles of track, passengers were
-waiting, fuming, impatient to reach their destinations; thousands of
-tons of freight filled the sidings, waiting the word that would permit
-it to go forward. Here in the hills, with scarcely a house in sight, was
-the wound that stretched the whole system powerless—that kept business
-men from their engagements, wives from husbands, that deranged the plans
-of hundreds; ay, more than that, it was keeping food from the hungry,
-the ice was melting in refrigerator-cars, peaches and apples were
-spoiling in hot crates, cattle were panting with thirst,—all waiting
-upon the labours of this little army, which was fighting so valiantly to
-set things right.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXII' title='XII: UNSUNG HEROES'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XII.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>UNSUNG HEROES</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>Allan laboured savagely with the others. One thought sang in his brain,
-keeping time to the steady rise and fall of the shovels: “The track must
-be cleared; the track must be cleared.” The great pile of coal before
-him took on a hideous and threatening personality—it was a dragon, with
-its claws at the road’s throat. It must be conquered—must be dragged
-away. From time to time he stopped a moment to munch one of the
-sandwiches, not noticing the dirt and coal-dust that settled upon it. He
-was not hungry, but he felt instinctively that he must eat the food.</p>
-
-<p>Most of the other men were chewing tobacco, their jaws working
-convulsively in unison with their arms. They had long since ceased to be
-human beings—they had become machines. Their movements were precise,
-automatic, regular. Their faces grew gradually black and blacker in the
-perpetual dust which arose from the coal; their eyes became rimmed with
-black, and bloodshot under the constant irritation of the dust. They
-breathed it in, swallowed it, absorbed it. Their sense of smell and
-taste gradually left them—or, at least, they could smell and taste only
-one thing, coal-dust. They ceased to resemble men; one coming upon them
-unawares would have taken them for some horrible group from Dante’s
-inferno, doing terrible penance through eternity. They looked neither to
-the right nor left; their eyes were always on the coal—on this shifting
-black monster with which they were doing battle. Their hands seemed
-welded to the shovels, which rose and fell, rose and fell.</p>
-
-<p>The cold rain beat in sheets around them, soaking their clothes, and yet
-they scarcely felt this added discomfort, so intent were they upon the
-task before them. Most of them had thrown off their coats at the
-beginning of the struggle, and now their wet shirts stuck tightly to
-their skins, showing every muscle. Gradually, by almost imperceptible
-degrees, the pile of coal on the banks of the cut grew higher; gradually
-the pile on the track grew less, but so slowly that it was agonizing.</p>
-
-<p>Above them on the bank, the great locomotive, hurled there and turned
-completely around by the force of the collision, stood a grim sentinel.
-It was the one piece of luck, the officers told themselves, in
-connection with this wreck, that the engine had been tossed there out of
-the way. To have raised it from the track and placed it there would have
-taken hours, and every minute was so precious! It would take hours to
-get it down again, but that need not be done until the track was clear.</p>
-
-<p>Toward the middle of the morning, three fresh gangs of men came from the
-east and fell to work beside the others. But the others did not think of
-stopping. Instead, with staring eyes and tight-set teeth, they worked a
-little harder, to keep pace with the freshness and vigour of the
-newcomers. Ninety shovels were hurling the coal aside, digging into it,
-eating it away. Here, there, and everywhere the officials went, seeing
-that every stroke told, that not an ounce of energy was wasted, taking a
-hand themselves, driving themselves as hard as any of the men. Soon the
-coal was heaped so high along the sides of the cut that a force was put
-to work throwing it farther back. Almost all of it had to be handled
-twice!</p>
-
-<p>Noon came—a dark noon without a sun; a noon marked by no hour of rest
-for these toilers. Back in the wrecking-car a great boiler of coffee
-steamed and bubbled; the cook carried pails of it among the men, who
-paused only long enough to swallow a big dipperful. Even Allan, who had
-no taste for it, drank deep and long, and he was astonished at the flood
-of warm vigour it seemed to send through him. Every half-hour this
-coffee was passed around, strong and black and stimulating. It was a
-stimulation for which the men would pay later on in limp reaction, but
-it did its work now.</p>
-
-<p>Experience had proved that no other means was so good as this to sustain
-men against fatigue, hour after hour, and to drive away sleep from the
-brain. Time was when the railroad company had experimented with other
-stimulants, but they had long since been discarded.</p>
-
-<p>Still the rain descended, and a biting wind from the north turned the
-weather steadily colder and colder. A sheet of sleet formed over the
-coal, welding it into a solid mass, which required the vigorous use of
-picks to dislodge. The men slipped and stumbled, gasping with
-exhaustion, but still the shovels rose and fell. Here and there, the
-twisted and broken track began to appear.</p>
-
-<p>At the side of the track the train-master called a lineman, who carried
-a wire up a pole and attached it to one of the wires overhead. A
-telegraph instrument was connected with this, and, sitting down upon the
-bank, the train-master ticked in to headquarters the news that the track
-would be clear at midnight, and repaired six hours later.</p>
-
-<p>In this, as in everything, the train-master knew his men. Ten minutes
-before midnight the last shovelful of coal was out of the way,—the track
-was clear,—one part of the battle had been won. But another part yet
-remained to fight,—the track must be rebuilt, and the work of doing it
-began without a moment’s delay. The twisted rails and splintered ties
-were wrenched out of the way; the road-bed, which had been ploughed up
-by the wheels of the derailed cars, was hastily levelled. From the
-wrecking-car gangs of men staggered under new ties and rails, which were
-piled along beside the track where they would be needed.</p>
-
-<p>At last the road-bed was fairly level again, and ties were laid with
-feverish energy by the light of the flaring torches, which gave the
-scene a weirdness which it had lacked by day. Phantoms of men moved back
-and forth, now disappearing in the darkness, now leaping into view
-again, working doggedly on, to their very last ounce of strength and
-endurance.</p>
-
-<p>As the ties were got into place, the rails were spiked down upon them
-and fish-plates were bolted into place. Rod after rod they advanced,
-tugging, hammering, with the energy of desperation. It was no question
-now of a perfect road-bed—rail must be joined to rail so that once more
-the red blood of commerce could be pumped along the artery they formed.
-After that there would be time for the fine points. And just as the sun
-peeped over the eastern hills, the last spike was driven, the last bolt
-tightened. The work was done.</p>
-
-<p>The men cheered wildly, savagely, their voices hoarse and unnatural.
-Then they gathered up their tools, staggered to the car, and fell
-exhausted on bunk or chair or floor, and went instantly to sleep. Allan
-found afterward that he had no memory whatever of those last trying
-hours.</p>
-
-<p>At the side of the road the train-master was ticking off a message which
-told that his promise was kept,—a message which sent a thrill of life
-along the line from end to end,—which told that the road was clear. Then
-he cut loose his instrument, and he and the superintendent walked back
-to the car together. They were no longer the trim, good-looking men of
-every day—they were haggard, gaunt, unshaven. Their eyes were bloodshot,
-their clothing soiled and torn. They had not spared themselves. For
-thirty-six hours they had been working without so much as lifting their
-hats from their heads. But they had won the battle—as they had won many
-others like it, though few quite so desperate.</p>
-
-<p>On either side the track was piled a mass of twisted wreckage; the
-engine still lay high on the bank. That could wait. Another crew could
-haul the engine down and gather up the débris, for the track was open.</p>
-
-<p>The journey back took longer than the journey out. At every siding they
-headed in to let passenger and freight whirl past; the blood was
-bounding now, trying to make up for the time it had been stopped. But
-the men lying in the car saw none of them; the roar of their passage did
-not awaken them—they knew not whether the trip back took two hours or
-ten—they were deaf, blind, dead with fatigue. Only at the journey’s end
-were they awakened, and it was no easy task. But at last they had all
-arisen, gaunt shadows of their former selves.</p>
-
-<p>“Boys,” said the superintendent, “I want to tell you that I’ve never
-seen a wreck handled as well as you handled this one. You did great
-work, and I’m proud of you. Now go home and go to sleep,—sleep
-twenty-four hours if you can. Don’t report for duty till to-morrow. And
-I promise you I won’t forget this night’s work.”</p>
-
-<p>They staggered away through the curious crowd at the station, seeing
-nothing, turning instinctively in the direction of their homes.</p>
-
-<p>“Why,” remarked one white-haired man, gazing after them, “they look just
-as we looked after we got through the Wilderness. They look like they’ve
-been under fire for a week.”</p>
-
-<p>The superintendent, passing, heard the remark.</p>
-
-<p>“They have,” he answered, dryly. “They’ve been under the heaviest kind
-of fire continuously for thirty-six hours. You fellows have had whole
-libraries written about you, and about a thousand monuments built to
-you. You get a pension while you live, and your grave is decorated when
-you die. I’m not saying you don’t deserve it all, for I believe you do.
-But there’s some other people in the world who deserve honour and glory,
-too,—section-men, for instance. I never heard of anybody building a
-monument to them, or calling them heroes; and, if there are any flowers
-on their graves, it’s their families put them there!”</p>
-
-<p>He passed on, while his auditor stared open-mouthed, not knowing whether
-to be moved or angry. The superintendent’s nerves were shaken somewhat,
-or he might have spoken less bitterly; but a sudden sharp sense of the
-world’s injustice had clamoured for utterance.</p>
-
-<p>And the wrecking-train was run in again on the siding, ready for the
-next trip.</p>
-
-<p>The men, of course, paid the penalty for their almost superhuman
-exertions. No men could work as they had done and not feel the
-after-effects in diminished vitality. The younger ones among them soon
-recovered, for youth has a wonderful power of recuperation; the older
-ones were a little more bent, a little more gnarled and withered, a
-little nearer the end of the journey. They had sacrificed themselves on
-the altar of the great system which they served; they had done so
-without a murmur, with no thought of shirking or holding back. They
-would do so again without an instant’s hesitation whenever duty called
-them. For that was their life-work, to which they were dedicated with a
-simple, unquestioning devotion. There was something touching about
-it,—something grand and noble, too,—just as there is in a man dedicating
-himself to any work, whether to conquer the world with Napoleon, or to
-keep clean a stretch of street pavement committed to his care. It was
-this dedication, this singleness of purpose—this serfdom to the
-road—which Allan grew to understand more and more deeply, and to glory
-in.</p>
-
-<p>And it was not an unworthy service, for the road was worth devotion. Not
-the company of capitalists, who sat in an office somewhere in the East
-and manipulated its stocks and bonds, but the road itself,—this thing of
-steel and oak which had rendered possible the development of the
-country, which had added fabulously to its wealth, which bound together
-its widely separated States into one indivisible Union. They were
-servants of the force which, more than any other, has made our modern
-civilization possible.</p>
-
-<p>Let me add that the story of this wreck is no imaginary one. It is a
-true story which actually occurred just as it is set down here; it is an
-experience which repeats itself over and over again in the life of every
-railroad man; it was a battle which, in one form or another, railroad
-men are always fighting, and always winning. And, more than most
-battles, is it worth winning!</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXIII' title='XIII: A NEW DANGER'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XIII.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>A NEW DANGER</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>There is a superstition among railroad men which, strangely enough, is
-seemingly warranted by experience, that when one wreck occurs, two more
-are certain to follow. And, sure enough, two more did follow, though
-neither was so serious as the one at Vinton; which, indeed, still lives
-in the memories of those who helped clear it away as the worst that ever
-happened on the division.</p>
-
-<p>Not so serious, that is, in delaying the traffic of the road, but more
-serious in another way, since both entailed loss of life. The first one
-occurred just three days after the wreck at Vinton. A freight-train had
-taken a siding about five miles east of Wadsworth to allow the through
-east-bound express to pass, but the brakeman on the freight, who was a
-green hand, forgot to throw the switch back again after the
-freight-train had backed in upon the siding. He climbed up into the cab,
-and he and the engineer and fireman sat there chatting away, all
-unconscious of the impending disaster. In a moment, they heard the roar
-of the approaching train, and then it flashed into view far down the
-track. They turned to watch it, to admire the clean lines of the engine
-as it whirled toward them; then, as it reached the switch, they were
-horrified to see it turn in upon the siding. There was no time to move,
-to cry out, to attempt to save themselves. An instant of horrified
-suspense, and the crash came, and the two engines, together with the
-cars immediately behind them, were piled together into a torn and
-twisted mass of wreckage,—wreckage through which blistering steam hissed
-and about which in a moment hungry flames began to lap,—wreckage from
-which no man came forth alive. But, as the accident occurred upon a
-siding, the main track was not even blocked, and the wreckage was
-cleared away without the feverish haste which marked the wreck at
-Vinton.</p>
-
-<p>The third wreck occurred at Torch, a little station on the east end of
-the road, when both engineer and fireman of an east-bound freight-train
-forgot their orders to take the siding there, to make way for the
-west-bound flier, and continued on full speed past the station. The
-conductor recognized the error at once, but he was away back in the
-caboose at the other end of the train. He sent a brakeman flying forward
-over the cars to warn the engineer of his danger, but, before he had got
-forward half the length of the train, the express hurtled down upon
-them, and both engineer and fireman paid for their forgetfulness with
-their lives. This wreck was so far east that it was handled from
-Parkersburg, and the gang from Section Twenty-one was not called out.</p>
-
-<p>This series of accidents impressed deeply upon Allan’s mind the terrible
-peculiarity which belongs to railroading. In most of life’s ordinary
-occupations, a mistake may be retrieved; on the railroad, almost never.
-To make a mistake there is, almost inevitably, to sacrifice life and
-property. The railroad man who makes a mistake never has the chance to
-make a second one. If he survives the first one, his dismissal from the
-road’s employ will follow. Mistakes on a railroad are too expensive to
-risk them by employing careless men.</p>
-
-<p>The employés of the road breathed easier after the accident at Torch.
-Until the fatal three had occurred, every man feared that his turn would
-come next; now they knew that they were safe until another series was
-started. Whether it was from the increased self-confidence and
-self-control which this belief engendered, or whether there really was
-some basis for this railroad superstition, at any rate, no more
-accidents occurred, and the road’s operation proceeded smoothly and
-uneventfully.</p>
-
-<p>One exciting battle there was in late September. The fall rains had been
-unusually heavy and persistent; every little brook became a roaring
-torrent, loosening bridges and culverts, seeping under the road-bed, and
-demanding constant vigilance on the part of the section-gangs. As the
-rain continued without abating, the broad river, which usually flowed
-peacefully along far below the railroad embankment, rose foot by foot
-until the whole stretch of embankment along the river’s edge was
-threatened. Long trains of flat cars were hurried to the place, loaded
-with rock and bags of sand. These were dumped along the embankment,
-which was washing badly in places, and for a time it looked as though
-the encroachments of the water had been stopped. But the rain continued,
-and the river kept on rising, until it was seeping along the top of the
-embankment. If it once began to flow over it, nothing could save the
-track, for the water would slice away the earth beneath it in great
-sections.</p>
-
-<p>All the men that could be spared from the other portions of the road had
-been hurried to the scene. At the gravel-pit just below the city, a gang
-of fifty men was working, filling heavy sacks and loading them on flat
-cars. A great steam-shovel was heaping the loose gravel upon other cars,
-and, as soon as enough were loaded to make a train, they were hurried
-away to the danger point. During that culminating day, no effort was
-made to preserve the train schedule. The work-trains were given the
-right of way, and even the lordly east-bound passengers had to flag
-through from the embankment to the gravel-pit. Train-master and
-superintendent were on the spot, directing where the gravel should be
-dumped, and watching anxiously the gauge which marked the rise of the
-water. Another inch and it would be over the embankment.</p>
-
-<p>But from the last inspection of the gauge Mr. Schofield arose with a
-shout of triumph.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s no higher than it was half an hour ago,” he said. “It hasn’t risen
-a hair’s breadth. It’ll begin to fall before long. We’re all right if we
-can only make the embankment hold.”</p>
-
-<p>Hope put new life into the men, and they worked like beavers; but
-whether the embankment could withstand much longer the tremendous
-pressure of the water against it seemed exceedingly doubtful. The whole
-length of the river seemed to be concentrating its strength to push
-against this one spot. Allan, as he paused to look up the muddy current,
-almost imagined that the water was rushing toward the embankment with
-the deliberate purpose of overwhelming it. The débris which the broad
-current hurried along told of the damage it was doing in other places.
-Lordly trees had been uprooted, outbuildings carried away, stock
-drowned, fertile bottom land covered with gravel and rendered
-worthless,—but all this seemed trivial to the boy beside the danger
-which threatened the road. He could guess how long it would take to
-rebuild this great stretch of embankment, should it be swept away. For
-weeks and months, the system must lay powerless, lifeless, disrupted.</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Schofield bent over the gauge again and looked at it.</p>
-
-<p>“She’s going down, boys!” he cried, rising with beaming face. “She’s
-gone down half an inch. We’re going to win this fight!”</p>
-
-<p>But how slowly the water receded! It seemed to Allan, at times, that it
-was rising again; but the crest of the flood had passed, and by the next
-day the danger was quite over. The embankment had to be rebuilt where it
-had been badly washed; and it was rebuilt more strongly than ever, and
-guarded by a wall of riprap, but never for an hour was the traffic of
-the road interrupted.</p>
-
-<p>So October passed and November came. Always there was the track
-demanding attention,—an endless round of work which would never be
-completed. Always there were the trains rushing over it in endless
-procession,—the luxurious Limited, sending every other train headlong
-into a siding out of the way; the slower “accommodation,” which stops at
-every station along the road and is very popular with the farmers and
-dwellers at crossroads; the big through freight, drawn by a mighty giant
-of an engine, hauling two thousand tons of grain or beef or coal to the
-great Eastern market.</p>
-
-<p>And the through freight is the greatest of them all, for it is the
-money-maker. The Limited, glittering with polished brass and rare woods
-and plate-glass, is for show,—for style. It makes the road a reputation.
-It figures always in the advertisements in big type and on the back of
-folder and time-table in gorgeous lithograph. Its passengers look out
-with aversion at the dingy, ugly freight, standing on the siding,
-waiting for it to pass. But it is the freight that is meat and drink to
-the road; it enables it to keep out of the receiver’s hands, and
-sometimes even to pay dividends.</p>
-
-<p>For Allan, the days passed happily, for one serious cloud was lifted
-from his life. Dan Nolan had disappeared. He had not been seen for
-weeks, and every one hoped that he would never be seen in that
-neighbourhood again. Jack had taken good care to spread the story of the
-fallen rock, and Nolan was wise to keep out of the trainmen’s way.</p>
-
-<p>“He thinks I saw him that day,” remarked the foreman, “an’ he’s afeard
-of a term in th’ penitentiary. Well, he’ll git it; if not here,
-somewheres else.”</p>
-
-<p>One trouble still remained, for Reddy showed no sign of improvement. His
-aversion to all his old friends seemed rather to increase, and he would
-wander away for days at a time. With this development of vagrant habits,
-he fell naturally in with other vagrants; played cards with them under
-the big coal-chute, rode with them in empty box-cars,—in a word,
-degenerated utterly from the happy, industrious Reddy of other days.
-Still, he showed no disposition to harm any one, so his friends deemed
-it best to let him go his way, hoping against hope that time might work
-a cure. His wife had been given the position of janitress of the depot
-building, and so provided for the family.</p>
-
-<p>Physically, Allan had never been in such splendid condition. Constant
-work in the open air had hardened his muscles and tanned his face; he
-was lean and hard, his eyes clear, his nerves steady. He was always
-ready for his bed at night, and always ready for his work in the
-morning. He felt within himself an abounding health and vitality, that
-brought him near to nature, and made him love her great winds and
-tempests. The only things he missed were the books to which he had
-always been accustomed. He was usually too tired in the evening to do
-more than read the newspaper; but he was gaining for himself a
-first-hand experience of life more valuable than any reflection of it he
-could have caught from the printed page. The foundations of his
-education had been well laid; now he was laying the foundations of
-experience. Somehow, for the time being, books seemed to him strangely
-useless and artificial. He was drinking deep of life itself.</p>
-
-<p>And as the days passed, Allan grew to know the trainmen better. He was
-admitted to the freemasonry of their fellowship, and sat with them often
-in the evenings at roundhouse or yardmaster’s office, listening to their
-yarns, which had a strange fascination for him. It was at the roundhouse
-that engineers and firemen met, summoned by the caller to take their
-engines out; at the yardmaster’s office, conductors and brakemen
-reported. And the boy found all of them alike prepared for what might
-befall, ready, instinctively, without second thought, to risk their
-lives to save the company’s property or to protect the passengers
-entrusted to their care.</p>
-
-<p>A great admiration for these men grew into his heart. They were like
-soldiers, ready at a moment’s notice to advance under fire,—only here
-there was not the wild exhilaration of battle, of charge and sortie, but
-only a long, cold looking of danger in the face.</p>
-
-<p>Even the humblest of them had his heroisms, as the boy found out one
-night; for, surely, none was humbler than Bill Griffith, the lame
-crossing-flag-man. It was at the roundhouse one evening that Allan
-chanced to ask how Bill lost his leg. “Tookey” Morton—the oldest
-engineer on the road—who had just come in to report, turned around at
-the question.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s lost both legs, my boy,” he said. “He’s wood on both sides from
-the knee down, only you can’t see it because his pant-legs hide it. Ten
-years ago, Bill was one of the best engineers on this road. He had the
-old Ninety-six,—you remember her, boys,—one of them old
-passenger-engines, built too light for the business. Well, one night
-Bill was spinnin’ down the grade at Loveland when the side-rod on his
-side broke, and in about half a second had whipped the cab to pieces and
-smashed both Bill’s legs. His fireman, who was green, jumped at the
-first crash; so what did Bill do but get up on the stumps of his legs
-and walk to the throttle and shut her off. They found him layin’ on what
-was left of the deck, and thought he was dead. But he pulled through,
-and was given that billet at the crossin’. And there ain’t a man, woman,
-or child has been hurt there since he’s had it.”</p>
-
-<p>The section-men were soon to have their hours of danger, too, for the
-road was falling among troublesome times. The first wind of it came in
-an order to all employés issued from general headquarters.</p>
-
-<p>Jack stuck a copy of it on the order-hook on the wall of the
-section-shanty, and then read it over again with a very dark face. Thus
-it ran:</p>
-
-<div style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-right:2em; margin-left:2em'>
-
-<p>“NOTICE TO EMPLOYÉS, ALL DEPARTMENTS</p>
-
-<p>“The police department of this road has just been reorganized, and all
-employés are hereby directed to aid it in every possible way in keeping
-all trains, freight and passenger, free from tramps. This nuisance has
-grown to such proportions that it must be checked. Trainmen discovered
-permitting tramps to ride on their trains will be summarily discharged.
-Section-men will see that no fires are built by tramps on the right of
-way, and that they do not linger on railroad property.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:right'>“[Signed] A. G. Round,</div>
-<div style='text-align:right; font-style:italic'>“Supt. and Gen. Manager.</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><i>“Cincinnati, Ohio, November 14.”</i></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>“That means trouble,” said Jack, “if they try t’ carry it out,” and
-turned away to his work without further comment.</p>
-
-<p>But that night in the yardmaster’s office Allan heard the order
-discussed with freedom and much emphasis.</p>
-
-<p>“We can’t deny,” said one man, “that th’ hoboes have been robbin’ th’
-road right an’ left, but what kin we do? Try t’ put ’em off an’ git a
-bullet through us or a knife in us?”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s put ’em off or git fired,” remarked another, grimly.</p>
-
-<p>“The road couldn’t stand it any longer,” remarked the yardmaster. “Car
-after car has come into the yards here broken open and any amount of
-stuff missing. It’s been costing the road a pretty figure to straighten
-things out with the shippers.”</p>
-
-<p>“The tramps get in out here at the heavy grade just east of Byers,”
-remarked a conductor. “Those fool despatchers load us up so heavy that
-we can’t make more than six or eight miles an hour up that
-grade,—sometimes we stick and have to double over. Well, the tramps lay
-for us there every night, and, while we’re crawling along, or maybe
-cutting the train in two to double, they pick out a likely looking car
-of merchandise, break it open, hunt around inside, and throw off what
-they want, and then drop off themselves. We don’t even know the seals
-are broken until we get into the yards here.”</p>
-
-<p>“There’s a dozen other places on the road just as bad,” said the
-yardmaster.</p>
-
-<p>“But how’s a feller t’ know what’s goin’ on inside a car?” queried a
-brakeman, sarcastically. “That’s what I’d like to be told.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” retorted the yardmaster, “I guess the superintendent will tell
-you quick enough, if he ever gets you on the carpet.”</p>
-
-<p>The brakeman snorted skeptically.</p>
-
-<p>“I dunno,” he said. “I guess th’ whole thing’s jest a bluff, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p>But trainmen and tramps alike soon found out that the management of the
-road was in deadly earnest. The force of police had been strongly
-reinforced. Tramps were summarily thrown off the trains. When they
-showed fight, as they often did at first, they were promptly arrested,
-arraigned before the nearest police justice, and given a term in the
-workhouse.</p>
-
-<p>To be sure, all this was not accomplished without some cost. One
-detective was shot through the head and killed, and many others had
-escapes more or less narrow, but the tramps soon lost their boldness.
-They no longer broke open freight-cars at will and helped themselves to
-their contents, or rode from place to place as their fancy dictated. But
-they took their revenge in other ways.</p>
-
-<p>One night an extra west-bound freight ran through an open switch at
-Greenfield and crashed into the freight-house. An investigation showed
-that the switch-lock had been broken, and the switch thrown. A night
-watchman on Section Twenty-eight found a big pile of ties on the track,
-and stopped another freight just in time to prevent a wreck.</p>
-
-<p>Ugly rumours were flying about of the tramps’ intentions, and it was at
-this juncture that another order came from headquarters. It ran:</p>
-
-<div style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-right:2em; margin-left:2em'>
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='margin-bottom:0.7em;'>“NOTICE TO SECTION-FOREMEN</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“All section-foremen, until further orders, will divide their gangs into
-tricks, and have one man constantly on duty patrolling the track from
-end to end of their section. All sections must be gone over not less
-than once every three hours, and special vigilance is required at night.
-The road relies upon its section-men to see that this work is faithfully
-done. Double time will be allowed for this extra duty. To go into effect
-at once.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:right'>“[Signed] A. G. Round,</div>
-<div style='text-align:right; font-style:italic'>“Supt. and Gen. Manager.</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><i>“Cincinnati, Ohio, November 30.”</i></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>And simultaneously the road’s police force was augmented by a dozen
-special detectives. The management was determined to prove that it could
-protect its property. Besides, the other roads of the country were
-looking on with much interest to see what the result of this struggle
-would be, for the tramp nuisance was rampant everywhere.</p>
-
-<p>For a time, it seemed that these precautions had been effective. There
-were no more robberies reported, and few tramps attempted to steal
-rides. To be sure, the station at Madeira caught fire one night and
-burned to the ground, but there was no proof of incendiarism. Still the
-road did not relax its vigilance. Threatening rumours came to it from
-the underworld. The detectives, assuming tramp garb and fraternizing
-with the “hoboes,” became aware of something sinister in the air, but
-could never quite fathom the mystery. They were sure of only one
-thing—something was going to happen.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXIV' title='XIV: ALLAN MAKES A DISCOVERY'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XIV.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>ALLAN MAKES A DISCOVERY</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>During all this time, Allan had been taking his trick of track-walking
-with the other men on Section Twenty-one. Jack had arranged it so that
-the boy’s trip over the road was made in the early morning, from four
-o’clock to seven, when, in his opinion, there was the minimum of danger.
-For Jack still feared Dan Nolan, although that rascal had not been seen
-in the neighbourhood for months. But Jack had an uneasy feeling that
-Nolan was still plotting mischief, that he was still watching his
-opportunity to do Allan an injury.</p>
-
-<p>The boy himself, confident in his growing manhood, laughed at these
-fears.</p>
-
-<p>“Nolan has cleared out for good,” he said to Jack. “He’s gone somewhere
-where he’s not known, and has got another job. We’ll never see him
-again.”</p>
-
-<p>But Jack shook his head stubbornly.</p>
-
-<p>“I know better,” he said. “Mebbe he’s gone away for awhile, but he’ll
-come back ag’in, an’, if he ever gits a good chance t’ hit y’ from
-behind, he’ll take it. I’ve got a sort of idee that Nolan’s at th’
-bottom of most of th’ devilment that’s been goin’ on on this here road.
-Th’ tramps would ’a’ cleared out long ago if there hadn’t been somebody
-back of them urgin’ ’em on.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, come, Jack,” protested Allan, “you’ve let that idea get such a hold
-on you that you can’t shake it off.”</p>
-
-<p>“Anyway,” said Jack, “I want you t’ keep your eyes about you when you’re
-out there by yourself. An’ you’re t’ carry that club I made fer you, an’
-t’ use it, too, if Nolan ever comes near enough for you t’ git a good
-lick at him.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan laughed again, but he carried the club with him, nevertheless,
-more to quiet Jack’s fears and Mary’s than because he thought he would
-ever need it. Jack had gone down to the carpenter shop the first day the
-order to patrol the track was posted, and had selected a piece of
-seasoned hickory, which he had fashioned into an effective weapon. Most
-of the other section-men were similarly armed, and were prepared to meet
-force with force.</p>
-
-<p>But Jack’s fears were to be verified in an unexpected way a few days
-later. One of the detectives employed by the road had succeeded in
-disguising himself as a tramp so effectively that he was admitted to
-their councils, and one night a force of men was gathered at
-headquarters for an expedition of which none of them knew the
-destination. It happened to be Jack’s trick, and, when he reported for
-duty, the train-master called him to one side.</p>
-
-<p>“Welsh,” he said, “we’re going on a little expedition to-night which
-promises some fun. I thought maybe you’d like that boy of yours to go
-along,—you seem to want to get him in on everything going.”</p>
-
-<p>“What is it, Mister Schofield?” Jack asked. “Anything dangerous?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” answered the train-master, “I don’t think there’ll be any real
-danger, but there may be some excitement. I want you to go and you’d
-better bring the boy.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right, sir,” said Jack, resolving, however, to keep the boy close
-to himself.</p>
-
-<p>A caller was sent after Allan, who appeared at the end of a few minutes,
-his eyes big with excitement.</p>
-
-<p>“What is it?” he asked, as he saw the men grouped together, talking in
-low tones. “Another wreck?”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Jack; “it ain’t a wreck. I don’t know what it is. It’s got
-something t’ do with th’ tramps, I think. Mebbe you’d better not go.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course I’ll go,” protested the boy. “I wouldn’t miss it for
-anything.”</p>
-
-<p>A moment later the men, of whom there were twenty, were divided into
-parties of four each, and each man was given a short, stout policeman’s
-club loaded with lead at the end.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, boys,” said the train-master, after the clubs had been
-distributed, “I want you to remember that it’s an easy thing to kill a
-man with one of those clubs, so don’t strike too hard if we get into a
-row. Only, of course, don’t hesitate to defend yourselves. Now I guess
-we’re ready to start.”</p>
-
-<p>Each party was placed in charge of one of the road’s detectives, and
-left the yards by a different route. The night was very dark, with black
-clouds rolling overhead and sending down a spatter of rain now and then,
-so that the men could scarcely see each other as they walked along. The
-party that Jack and Allan were with followed the railroad track as far
-as the river-bank; then they turned aside, crossed the long bridge which
-spanned the river, and pushed their way along a path which led to the
-right along the opposite bank.</p>
-
-<p>It was anything but easy walking, for the path was a narrow and uneven
-one, nearly overgrown by the rank underbrush along the river, so that
-they had to proceed in single file, the detective in the lead, stumbling
-over rocks, stepping into mudholes, with branches slapping them in the
-faces, and briars catching at their clothing. At last they came out upon
-an open field, which they crossed. Beyond the field was a road, which
-they followed for half a mile or more, then they struck off along
-another path through an open hickory wood, and finally halted for breath
-at the base of a high hill.</p>
-
-<p>In a few moments, the other parties came up, panting and
-mud-bespattered, and the detectives and Mr. Schofield drew apart for a
-little consultation.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, boys,” said Mr. Schofield, in a low voice, when the consultation
-was over, “I’ll tell you what we’re after so that you’ll know what to
-expect. One of our men here has discovered up on this hill the place
-where the ringleaders among the tramps make their headquarters. If we
-can capture these ringleaders, all our troubles with the tramps will be
-over. We’re going to surround the place, and we want to capture every
-one of them. We must creep up on them as quietly as we can, and then a
-pistol-shot will be the signal for a rush. And, remember, we don’t want
-any of them to get away!”</p>
-
-<p>A little murmur ran through the crowd, and they gripped their clubs
-tighter. Jack was glad that they had not been given revolvers,—in the
-darkness and confusion, such weapons would be more dangerous to friend
-than foe.</p>
-
-<p>They started cautiously up the hill, advancing slowly and painfully, for
-there was now no vestige of a path. The uneven ground and tangled
-undergrowth made progress very difficult, but they gradually worked
-their way upward until they came to the edge of a little clearing.
-Against a cliff of rock at one side a rude hut was built. There was no
-window, but, through the chinks in the logs, they could see that there
-was a light within. The men were spread out along the edge of the
-clearing, and waited breathlessly for the signal to advance.</p>
-
-<p>The pistol-shot rang out, clear and sharp in the night air, and, even as
-the men sprang forward, the door of the hut was thrown open and a man’s
-figure appeared silhouetted against the light. He stood an instant
-listening to the rush of advancing footsteps, then slammed the door
-shut, and in a breath the hut was in darkness.</p>
-
-<p>But that single instant was enough for both Allan and Jack Welsh to
-recognize the man.</p>
-
-<p>It was Dan Nolan!</p>
-
-<p>In another second, they were hammering at the door, but they found it
-strongly barred, and three or four minutes elapsed—minutes that seemed
-like centuries—before they got the door down and rushed over the
-threshold into the hut. One of the detectives opened his dark lantern
-and flashed a brilliant band of light about the place, while the men
-stared in astonishment.</p>
-
-<p>For the hut was empty!</p>
-
-<p>They lighted the lamp which stood on a box in one corner and made a more
-careful examination of the place. Two or three boxes, an old stove, a
-few cooking utensils, and a rude cot in one corner comprised all the
-furniture, and one of the detectives, pulling aside the largest box,
-which stood against the back of the hut, solved the mystery of Nolan’s
-disappearance.</p>
-
-<p>A passage had been dug in the bank which formed the back of the hut, and
-the detective, after flashing his dark lantern within, crawled into it
-without hesitation. In a few moments, they heard the sound of steps
-outside, and the detective came in again at the door.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s got clear away,” he said; “as well as all the rest who were with
-him. That tunnel leads off to the left and comes out the other side of
-this bank.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Schofield’s face showed his disappointment.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s too bad,” he said, “that we didn’t know about that tunnel. Then we
-could have placed a guard at the other end.”</p>
-
-<p>“There were precious few knew about it,” said the detective who had
-discovered the place. “I’ve been here half a dozen times, and never
-suspected its existence.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” said the train-master, “the only thing we can do is to go home,
-I guess. We can’t hope to find a man in these woods on a night like
-this.”</p>
-
-<p>“You knowed that feller who opened th’ door, didn’t you, Mister
-Schofield?” questioned Jack, as they left the hut.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Mr. Schofield, quickly. “Did you?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” replied Jack, quietly; “it was Dan Nolan.”</p>
-
-<p>“Dan Nolan!” repeated the train-master, incredulously. “Are you sure?”</p>
-
-<p>“Allan here knowed him, too,” said Jack. “It’s what I’ve been thinkin’
-all along, that Nolan was at th’ bottom of all this mischief. He’s got
-t’ be a kind o’ king o’ th’ tramps, I guess.”</p>
-
-<p>“Perhaps you’re right,” agreed Mr. Schofield. “I’ll put our detectives
-on his trail. Maybe they can run him down, if he hasn’t been scared away
-by his narrow escape to-night.”</p>
-
-<p>“He’ll shift his headquarters,” said Jack, “but I don’t believe he’ll be
-scared away—not till he gits what he’s after, anyway.”</p>
-
-<p>“And what is that?” questioned the train-master.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s after Allan there,” said Jack, in a lower tone. “An’ he’ll git him
-yet, I’m afraid.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, we’ll make it hot for him around here,” said Mr. Schofield, and
-went forward to impart this information to the detectives.</p>
-
-<p>All of the men were completely tired out by the long night tramp, as
-well as chagrined over their ill success, but Allan was up again as
-usual next morning and started off upon his tramp along the track.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, be careful of yourself, darlint,” Mary cautioned him, as she saw
-him off, and Allan promised to be especially alert.</p>
-
-<p>There could be no doubt that it was Dan Nolan they had seen at the door
-of the hut the night before, but Allan only half-believed that Nolan
-still preserved his enmity toward him. Certainly, he decided, it was not
-worth worrying about,—worrying never did any good. He would be ready to
-meet danger as it came, but he greatly doubted if it would ever come, at
-least, to himself personally.</p>
-
-<p>He had grown to like this duty of patrolling the track. It had been a
-pleasant duty, and an uneventful one, for at no time had he found
-anything wrong, or met with unpleasant adventure of any kind. But those
-long walks through the fresh, cold air, with the dawn just tingeing the
-east, opened a new world to the boy. It was no longer the hot, dusty,
-work-a-day world of labour, but a sweet, cool, clean world, where joy
-dwelt and where a man might grow. He heard the birds greet the sunrise
-with never-failing joy; he heard the cattle lowing in the fields; even
-the river beside the road seemed to dance with new life, as the sun’s
-rays sought it out and gilded its every ripple. It was not a long
-walk—three miles out and three back—and what an appetite for breakfast
-it gave him! Even these few months had wrought a great change in him. He
-was browned by the sun and hardened by toil, as has been said already;
-but the change was greater than that. It was mental as well as physical.
-He had grown older, and his face had gained the self-reliant look of the
-man who is making his own way in the world and who is sure of himself.</p>
-
-<p>Despite all this extra work, Section Twenty-one was kept in perfect
-condition, and the train-master noted it, as he noted everything else
-about the road.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re doing good work, Welsh,” he said to Jack one day, when he
-chanced to meet him in the yards.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve got a good gang,” answered the foreman, proudly. “There’s one o’
-my men that’s too good fer section work. He ort t’ have a better job,
-Mr. Schofield; one, anyway, where ther’s a chance fer permotion—in th’
-offices.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes?” and the official smiled good-naturedly. “I think I know who you
-mean. I’ll keep him in mind, for we always need good men. This extra
-work will soon be over, though. As soon as cold weather sets in, the
-hoboes will strike for the South, and I don’t believe they’ll ever
-trouble us again.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mebbe not,” agreed Jack, dubiously. “But I’d be mighty glad to hear
-that Dan Nolan was locked up safe somewhere. You haven’t found any trace
-of him?”</p>
-
-<p>“No. He seems to have disappeared completely. I believe he’s scared out,
-and cold weather will rid us of all the rest.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mebbe so,” said Jack; “mebbe so. Anyway, I wish cold weather’d hurry up
-an’ come.”</p>
-
-<p>But it seemed in no haste about coming. December opened bright and warm,
-and two weeks slipped by. Although it was evident that the tramps were
-becoming less numerous, and the management of the road began to breathe
-more freely, still the head of the police department did not relax his
-caution. He had his ear to the ground, and, from that hidden,
-subterranean region of trampdom, he still heard vague and uncertain, but
-no less threatening, rumblings.</p>
-
-<p>It was clear that the battle was not yet won, for the petty annoyances
-continued, though in an ever lessening degree, and even in the yards the
-tramps or their sympathizers managed to do much harm. A freight-train
-would be standing in the yards, ready for its trip east or west; the
-conductor would give the signal to start, the engineer would open his
-throttle, and instantly it would be discovered that some one had drawn
-all the coupling-pins; but, before the engineer could stop his engine,
-he had torn out all the air-hose on the train. Or, perhaps, the train
-would start all right, but, in the course of half an hour, the fireman
-would discover he could not keep the steam up, no matter how hot his
-fire was; the pressure would fall and fall until the train would be
-stalled out on the road, and an investigation would disclose the fact
-that some one had thrown a lot of soap into the tank. Then the whole
-system would be tied up until another engine could be sent to the rescue
-to push the train into the nearest siding. Or, perhaps, the train would
-be bowling along merrily until, of a sudden, the well-trained noses of
-conductor and brakemen would detect the odour of a hot box. The train
-would be stopped, and it would soon be found that some one had removed
-the packing from the boxes.</p>
-
-<p>All of these things were provoking enough, especially since it was
-evident that in almost every case the mischief had been done in the
-yards under the very noses of the trainmen, although no tramps had been
-seen there. Indeed, the trainmen, after wrestling with such annoyances
-for a time, came to be of a temper that made it exceedingly dangerous
-for a tramp to be found anywhere near railroad property. Yet the
-annoyances went on, and became gradually of a more serious nature. One
-night a brakeman found the main switch at the east end of the yards
-spiked, and it was only by a hair’s breadth that a serious collision was
-avoided. But the climax came one morning when Bill Morrison, on the
-crack engine of the road, found that some one had put sand in his boxes,
-and that the journals were ground off and ruined.</p>
-
-<p>A rigid investigation was ordered at once, but no clue to the
-perpetrator of the mischief was discovered. Yet it seemed certain that
-it could not have been done by a tramp. No tramp had been in the
-yards—the yard-men were sure of that—and the officials were forced to
-the unwelcome conclusion that some one whom they did not suspect—some
-one who was permitted to enter the yards—some one connected with the
-road, perhaps—was guilty. It was a disquieting thought, for there was no
-telling what might happen next.</p>
-
-<p>And then, one morning, Allan solved the mystery. It was a little after
-four o’clock and still quite dark as he passed through the yards to
-start on his morning walk. A freight-train stood ready to start east,
-with its great mogul of an engine puffing and blowing with impatience.
-Just as Allan passed it, he saw a figure emerge from underneath it. He
-thought at first it was the engineer, but, instead of mounting to the
-cab, the figure slunk away into the darkness, carefully avoiding the
-glare of the headlight. Then the boy saw the conductor and engineer
-standing, with heads together, a little distance away, reading their
-orders by the light of the conductor’s lantern. He ran toward them.</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Spurling,” he said to the engineer, “I just saw a man come out from
-under your engine.”</p>
-
-<p>“You did!” and engineer and conductor, with compressed lips, hurried
-back to where the engine stood. The former flashed his torch underneath,
-and then straightened up with a very grim face.</p>
-
-<p>“Look at that link-motion,” he said, and the conductor stooped and
-looked. Then he, too, straightened up.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a good thing we didn’t get started,” he said. “I’ll go and report
-it. It’s lucky for us you saw that scoundrel, my boy,” he added, as he
-hurried away, and the engineer clapped Allan on the shoulder.</p>
-
-<p>“Mighty lucky,” he said. “It’s a good thing there’s one man around here
-who keeps his eyes open.”</p>
-
-<p>But Allan, as he started away at last upon his six-mile tramp, knew not
-whether to be glad or sorry. If only some one else had passed the engine
-at that moment instead of him. For, as that crouching figure slunk away
-through the darkness, he had recognized it!</p>
-
-<p>So he had a battle to fight on that six-mile tramp; but it was fought
-and won long before the walk was ended. And when, at last, he got back
-to the yards, instead of turning away toward home, he mounted the stairs
-to the train-master’s office. That official was busy, as always, with a
-great pile of correspondence, but he looked up and nodded pleasantly as
-Allan entered.</p>
-
-<p>“Good morning, West,” he said. “Want to speak to me?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, Mr. Schofield,” answered Allan. “This morning, as I was starting
-out on my trick, I saw a man come out from under Mr. Spurling’s engine.”</p>
-
-<p>The train-master nodded.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” he said, “I’ve got a report of it here. I’m mighty glad you
-happened to come along just when you did, and had your eyes about you.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’d much rather it had been somebody else,” said Allan, “for I knew the
-man, and I think it’s my duty to tell you.”</p>
-
-<p>The train-master looked at him keenly.</p>
-
-<p>“You knew him?” he repeated. “Better and better. No doubt he’s the one
-who’s been giving us all this trouble. Who was he?”</p>
-
-<p>Allan gulped down a lump which had arisen suddenly in his throat.</p>
-
-<p>“Reddy Magraw,” he answered, hoarsely.</p>
-
-<p>“Reddy Magraw!” echoed the train-master, with a stare of astonishment.
-“Are you sure?”</p>
-
-<p>“I wouldn’t say so if I wasn’t sure, sir,” answered Allan, with a little
-flush of resentment. “I couldn’t be mistaken.”</p>
-
-<p>“Of course,” agreed the train-master, kindly. “But I didn’t think Reddy
-would do anything like that.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t believe he would have done it, sir,” said Allan, “if Dan Nolan
-hadn’t got hold of him,” and he told of the conference he and Jack had
-witnessed on the river-bank. “I believe Dan put all this meanness into
-his head,” he concluded. “I’m sure it’s with Dan he stays all the time
-he’s away from home.”</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Schofield nodded again.</p>
-
-<p>“No doubt you are right,” he assented. “Perhaps we ought to have
-suspected him before. Of course, the boys never thought of watching him,
-and so let him stay around the yards as much as he wanted to. But we’ll
-have to protect ourselves. This sort of thing can’t go on.”</p>
-
-<p>“You mean Reddy will have to be arrested?” questioned Allan, with
-sinking heart.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” and the train-master smiled at his anxious face. “I’ll file an
-affidavit of lunacy against Reddy before the probate judge, and we’ll
-have him sent to the asylum at Athens. He’ll be well taken care of
-there, and maybe will get well again much sooner than he would at home.
-He’s not getting any better here, that’s certain; and he’s caused us a
-lot of trouble. Besides, he’s only a burden to his wife.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, she never thinks of that,” said Allan, quickly. “It’s his staying
-away that hurts her.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” agreed Mr. Schofield, “I know. I’ve talked with her. She’s like
-all the rest of these big-hearted Irish women,—ready to work herself to
-death for the people she loves. Though,” he added, “that’s a
-characteristic of nearly all women.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXV' title='XV: A SHOT FROM BEHIND'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XV.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>A SHOT FROM BEHIND</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>Mr. Schofield filed his affidavit before the probate judge without
-delay, but, when the officer of the court went to look for Reddy, he was
-nowhere to be found. From his wife it was learned that he had not been
-home for two days, nor was he to be discovered in any of his accustomed
-haunts around the yards or in the shops, and the quest for him was
-finally given up in despair. Allan concluded that Reddy had recognized
-him that morning, as he came out from under the engine which he had
-tampered with, and knew that he was found out at last; but, whether this
-was the case, or whether he had got wind of the proceedings against him
-in some other way, certain it is that Reddy disappeared from Wadsworth,
-and nothing more was seen of him there for many days.</p>
-
-<p>Word was quietly passed around among the trainmen to be on the watch for
-him, as he was probably the one who had recently caused the road so much
-annoyance; and this came to be pretty well proved in time, for, with
-Reddy’s disappearance, the annoyances ceased, in so far, at least, as
-they originated in the yards at Wadsworth. Out on the line, indeed, they
-still continued,—switches were spiked, fish-plates were loosened,—and
-then, of a sudden, even these ceased, and everything ran as smoothly as
-in the old days. But this very quiet alarmed the chief of detectives
-more than anything else had done, for he believed it was the calm
-preceding a storm, and he redoubled his precautions. Some of the
-officers were rather inclined to laugh at his fears, but not the
-superintendent.</p>
-
-<p>“You are right, Preston,” he said to the chief. “There’s something in
-the wind. We’ll look sharp till after the pay-car gets here, anyway.
-After that, if nothing happens, we can let up a bit.”</p>
-
-<p>“When will the pay-car get here?” questioned Preston.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know yet; probably the night of the twenty-fourth.”</p>
-
-<p>“You’d better order a double guard with it, sir,” suggested the
-detective.</p>
-
-<p>“I will,” assented the superintendent. “More than that, Mr. Schofield
-and I will accompany it. If there’s any excitement, we want to be there
-to see it.”</p>
-
-<p>The detective nodded and went away, while the superintendent turned back
-to his desk. It had occurred to him some days before that an attempt to
-hold up the pay-car might be the culminating point of the series of
-outrages under which the road was suffering, and the more he had thought
-of it the more likely it appeared. The pay-car would be a rich prize,
-and any gang of men who could get away with its contents would be placed
-beyond the need of working, begging, or stealing for a long time to
-come. The pay-car, which always started from general headquarters at
-Cincinnati, went over the road, from one end to the other, every month,
-carrying with it the money with which the employés of the road were
-paid. To Wadsworth alone it brought monthly nearly two hundred thousand
-dollars, for Wadsworth was division headquarters. Nearly all the
-trainmen employed on the division lived there, and besides, there were
-the hundreds of men who laboured in the division shops. Yes, the pay-car
-would be a rich prize, and, as the money it carried was all in small
-denominations, it would be impossible to trace it, once the robbers got
-safely away with it.</p>
-
-<p>Let it be said in passing that on most roads the pay-car is now a thing
-of the past. Payment is now usually made by checks, which are sent out
-in registered packages from general headquarters, and distributed by the
-division officials. This method is safe and eminently satisfactory to
-the road, but some of the employés object occasionally because of the
-difficulty they sometimes experience in getting their checks cashed
-immediately.</p>
-
-<p>The road had never suffered any attack upon its pay-car, primarily, no
-doubt, because it was well-known that there were always half a dozen
-well-armed men with it, who would not hesitate to use their weapons. In
-fact, every man, as he stood at the little grated cashier’s window,
-waiting for his money, could see the row of rifles in the rack against
-the wall and the brace of pistols lying upon the desk, ready to the
-cashier’s hand. Besides, even if the car were broken into and the money
-secured, the difficulty of getting away safely with the booty was
-enormous. The road, for the most part, ran through a thickly settled
-country, and the moment the alarm was given, posses could be set in
-motion and the wires set humming in every direction, in the effort to
-run the robbers down. So, with whatever hungry greed would-be highwaymen
-had eyed the piles of bills and gold visible through the little grated
-window, none of them had ever dared to make a forcible attempt to gain
-possession of them.</p>
-
-<p>Perhaps no one would dare attempt it now, thought the superintendent;
-perhaps he had been merely alarming himself without cause. At least, the
-most effective defensive measure would be to keep secret the hour of the
-pay-car’s arrival. If no one knew exactly when to look for it, no
-attempt could be made to hold it up. Such an attempt, at the best, would
-be foolhardy, and the superintendent turned back to his work with a
-little sigh of relief at the thought. In a few moments, immersed in the
-pile of correspondence before him, he had quite forgotten his
-uneasiness.</p>
-
-<p>Certainly, as day after day went smoothly by, there seemed less and less
-cause for apprehension. The tramps were evidently making southward, like
-the birds, before the approach of winter. And nothing more was seen of
-Dan Nolan. A watch had been kept upon the hut on the hillside, but he
-had not returned there, so the hut was finally demolished and the tunnel
-in the cliff closed up. Every effort had been made to discover his
-whereabouts, but in vain. The detectives of the road declared that he
-was nowhere in the neighbourhood; but Jack Welsh was, as always,
-skeptical.</p>
-
-<p>Just east of Wadsworth, beyond the river, the country rose into a series
-of hills, sparsely settled and for the most part covered by virgin
-forest. These hills extended for many miles to the eastward, and among
-them, Jack told himself, Nolan could easily find a secure hiding-place
-for himself and half a dozen men.</p>
-
-<p>“An’ that’s jest where he is,” said Jack to Allan one evening, when they
-were talking the matter over. “That’s jest what Nolan’d love t’ do—put
-hisself at th’ head of a gang o’ bandits. He was allers talkin’ about
-highwaymen an’ train-robbers an’ desperadoes when he was on th’ gang;
-but we only laughed at him then. Now, I see it would have been a good
-thing if I’d ’a’ taken a stout stick an’ beat that foolishness out o’
-him.”</p>
-
-<p>“But Reddy,” said Allan; “where’s Reddy?”</p>
-
-<p>“Reddy’s with him,” answered Jack, decidedly. “An’ there’s no tellin’
-what scrape that reptile’ll git him into. I dare say, Reddy thinks
-Nolan’s his best friend. That’d be natural enough, since he’s got to
-thinkin’ that all his old friends are his worst enemies.”</p>
-
-<p>“If we could only find him!” said Allan, wistfully “and bring him home
-again. The poor fellow will never get well if he’s left to wander about
-like that.”</p>
-
-<p>But there seemed no way of finding him. Allan was the last person who
-had seen him. That was at the moment, in the early morning, when he had
-slunk away from under the engine. Some warning of the search for him
-must certainly have reached him, for he had never again appeared at
-home. His wife, nearly heart-broken by the suspense, imagining him
-suffering all sorts of hardships, yet went about her work with a calm
-persistence which concealed in some degree the tumult which raged within
-her. The children must be fed and cared for, and she permitted nothing
-to stand between her and that duty. The division offices had never been
-so clean as they were since Mrs. Magraw had taken charge of them.</p>
-
-<p>A day or two later, Allan fancied he saw something which proved the
-truth of Jack’s theory. It was one morning as he was returning from his
-regular trip that he reached the embankment along the river and glanced
-over at the willows on the farther side, as he always did when he passed
-the place, for it was there that he and Jack had first seen Reddy in
-Nolan’s company. His heart gave a leap as he saw two men there. He
-stopped and looked at them, but the early morning mist rising from the
-river hid them so that he could discern nothing beyond the mere outline
-of their forms. He stared long and earnestly, until they passed behind
-the clump of willows and disappeared from sight. Something told him that
-it was Reddy and Nolan again, but he could not be sure, and at last he
-went slowly on his way. Perhaps they had a place of concealment
-somewhere in the woods that stretched eastward from the river-bank.</p>
-
-<p>He mentioned his suspicion to Jack, as soon as he reached home, and the
-latter was all on fire in a minute.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” he said. “Next Sunday we’ll take a walk
-through th’ woods over there, an’ it’s jest possible we’ll run on to
-’em. Mebbe we kin save Reddy from that rascal yet!”</p>
-
-<p>So, bright and early the next Sunday morning, they started out, taking
-with them a lunch, for they did not expect to return until evening. They
-crossed the river by the bridge which they had used on the night when
-they had tried to capture Nolan, and struck at once into the woods.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s like huntin’ a needle in a haystack,” said Jack, “but my idea is
-that they’ve got a hut somewheres back in th’ hollers behind this first
-range o’ hills. They’s mighty few houses back there,—nothin’ but woods.
-So mebbe we’ll run on to ’em, if we have good luck.”</p>
-
-<p>They scrambled up the first low range of hills which looked down upon
-the broad river, and paused for a moment on the summit for a look about
-them. Beyond the river lay the level valley which, twelve decades
-before, had been one of the favourite dwelling-places of the red man.
-The woods abounded with game of every sort, and the river with fish,
-while in the fertile bottom his corn would grow to ripe luxuriance with
-little cultivation. More than one fierce battle for the possession of
-this smiling valley had been fought with the hardy bands of pioneers,
-who had pushed their way up from the Ohio, but at last the advancing
-tide of civilization swept the Indian aside, and the modern town of
-Wadsworth began to rise where formerly there had been no building more
-substantial than the hide wigwam.</p>
-
-<p>Jack and Allan could see the town nestling among its trees in the wide
-valley, but, when they turned about, a different view met them. To the
-eastward were no plains, no bottoms, no city, but, far as the eye could
-see, one hill rose behind another, all of them heavily wooded to the
-very summit, so steep and with a soil so gravelly that no one had ever
-attempted to cultivate them. Nor did any one dwell among them, save a
-few poverty-stricken families, who lived in summer by picking
-blackberries and in winter by digging sassafras-root,—a class of people
-so shiftless and mean and dirty that no respectable farmer would permit
-them on his place.</p>
-
-<p>It was the rude cabin of one of these families which Jack and Allan saw
-in the valley before them, and they determined to descend to it and make
-inquiries. There was a rough path leading downwards through the woods,
-and this they followed until they came to the edge of the little
-clearing which surrounded the house. They went forward to the door and
-knocked, but there was no response, and, after a moment, Jack pushed the
-door open cautiously and looked inside. As he did so, a shot rang out
-behind him, and Allan felt a sudden sting of pain across his cheek as a
-bullet sang past and embedded itself in the jamb of the door.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s that?” cried Jack, springing around, and then he saw Allan
-wiping the blood from his cheek. “What is it, lad?” he asked, his face
-paling. “You’re not hurted?”</p>
-
-<p>“Only a scratch,” said Allan, smiling. “Just took a little of the skin
-off.”</p>
-
-<p>“Come in here an’ we’ll look at it,” and Jack half-dragged him through
-the open door, which he closed and barred. “That’ll keep th’ varmint
-from takin’ another shot at us,” he said. “Now let’s see the cheek.”</p>
-
-<p>But not even Jack’s anxiety could make of the wound more than a scratch.
-The bullet had cut the skin from the left cheek for nearly an inch, and
-a little cold water, which Jack found in a bucket in the house, soon
-stopped the bleeding.</p>
-
-<p>“Who could it have been?” asked Allan, at last.</p>
-
-<p>“Y’ don’t need t’ ask that, I hope,” cried Jack. “It was Dan Nolan!”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, he didn’t hurt me much,” said Allan, with a laugh. “He doesn’t
-seem to have very good luck.”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Jack; “but if that bullet had been an inch further to th’
-right, you wouldn’t be a-settin’ laughin’ there,” and a little shudder
-ran through him as he thought of it, and he clinched his hands as he
-imagined what his vengeance would have been.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you suppose Nolan lives here?” asked Allan, looking curiously around
-the room.</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Jack; “they’s one o’ th’ Waymores lives here, but I wouldn’t
-be a bit surprised if he was in cahoots with Nolan. These people’re just
-as much vagabonds as them that go trampin’ about th’ country.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan looked again about the squalid room, and turned a little sick at
-the thought of living in the midst of such filth and wretchedness.</p>
-
-<p>“Come, let’s get out of here,” he said. “I want some fresh air. This is
-enough to turn one’s stomach.”</p>
-
-<p>“I tell you,” suggested Jack, “suppose we go out th’ back door there an’
-sneak around th’ edge of th’ clearin’. Mebbe we kin come on Nolan when
-he ain’t lookin’—and what I’ll do to him’ll be a plenty!”</p>
-
-<p>Allan laughed at his ferocity.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t believe Nolan would stay around here,” he said. “He didn’t know
-but what there were others with us. He probably decamped as soon as he
-took that crack at me.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, it won’t do any harm t’ try,” said Jack, and try they did, but no
-trace of Nolan was anywhere to be seen.</p>
-
-<p>They went on through the woods, eating their lunch beside a limpid
-spring which bubbled from beneath a rock in the hillside, and during the
-afternoon pushed on along the valley, but met no human beings. If it was
-indeed Nolan who fired the shot, he had taken to cover effectually.
-Allan began to doubt more and more that it had really been Nolan.</p>
-
-<p>“It might have been a hunter,” he pointed out to Jack, “who was shooting
-at something else, and did not see us at all. Such things happen, you
-know.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” Jack admitted, “but that wasn’t what happened this time,” and,
-when they reached home again, he went straight over to the offices and
-related to Mr. Schofield the details of the morning’s adventures. That
-official promised to put two detectives on Nolan’s trail at once. They
-worked on it for two or three days, but, though they even employed a
-bloodhound in the effort to run him down, all their work was quite in
-vain. The man to whom the cabin belonged said he had walked over to a
-neighbour’s that Sunday and had been away from home all day. He denied
-all knowledge of Nolan or Reddy Magraw, And the search ended, as all the
-others had done, without finding a trace of either of them.</p>
-
-<p>So the days passed, and the work on section went on in its unvaried
-round. And even from day to day Allan felt himself changing, as his
-horizon broadened. He had become a different boy from the diffident
-youngster who had asked Jack Welsh for a job that morning a few short
-months before. Work had strengthened him and made him a man; he felt
-immeasurably older; he had gained self-confidence; he felt that he could
-look out for himself in any emergency. He was playing a man’s part in
-the world; he was earning an honest living. He had gained friends, and
-he began to feel that he had a future before him. He was going to make
-the most of every opportunity, for he was ambitious, as every boy ought
-to be. He longed to get into the superintendent’s office, where there
-would be a chance to learn something about the infinitely difficult work
-of operating the road, and where there would be a chance for promotion.
-He never spoke of this to Jack, for such a thought seemed almost like
-desertion, but he never passed the offices without looking longingly up
-at the network of wires and signals. Sometimes, when some duty took him
-up-stairs, he could hear the wild chatter of the instruments in the
-despatchers’ office, and he determined to try to understand their
-language.</p>
-
-<p>Jack came into the section-shanty one morning with a sheet of paper in
-his hand and a broad smile upon his face.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ve got a Christmas gift fer y’, boys,” he said, and stuck the notice
-up on the hook. They all crowded around to read it.</p>
-
-<div style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-right:2em; margin-left:2em'>
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='margin-bottom:0.7em;'>“NOTICE TO SECTION FOREMEN</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>“All patrolling of the tracks will cease on and after December 25th
-next. This company deeply appreciates the faithful service its
-section-men have given it, and will endeavour to show that appreciation
-by increasing the wages of all section-men ten per cent., to go into
-effect January 1st.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:right'>“A. G. Round,</div>
-<div style='text-align:right; font-style:italic'>“Supt. and Gen. Manager.</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><i>“Cincinnati, Ohio, Dec. 18th.”</i></p>
-
-</div>
-
-<p>“How’s that, boys?” asked Jack. “That’s a Christmas gift worth havin’,
-ain’t it?” and he looked about from face to face, for he knew what that
-increase of twelve and a half cents a day meant to these men. It meant
-more food for the children, a new dress for the wife,—a little more
-luxury and ease in lives which were hard enough at best.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk' />
-
-<p>The weather had been cool and pleasant, but it changed as Christmas drew
-near, and the twenty-fourth was marked by a heavy storm. All the
-afternoon the rain fell in torrents, the wind blew a hurricane,
-and—something rare for December—the lightning flashed and the thunder
-rumbled savagely overhead.</p>
-
-<p>Work was out of the question, and, after playing awhile with Mamie, and
-telling her wonderful stories of Santa Claus and what he was going to
-bring her that night, Jack Welsh mounted to his room to get a few hours
-of much-needed rest. For his hours of patrol duty were from nine o’clock
-to midnight, and this trying extra work was beginning to tell upon him.
-With that characteristic unselfishness which endeared him to his men, he
-had chosen the worst trick for himself.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll be mighty glad when this extry work’s over,” his wife remarked, as
-she busied herself with the dishes in the kitchen, “fer all it pays
-double. There’s no use fer a man t’ kill hisself jest t’ make a little
-extry money. Jack’s purty nigh wore out;—just listen how he snores!”</p>
-
-<p>Allan looked up at her and laughed from the place on the floor where he
-was helping Mamie construct a castle out of painted blocks.</p>
-
-<p>“We’ll let him sleep as long as we can,” he said; and so it was not till
-nearly eight o’clock that Mamie was sent up-stairs to call him. They
-heard him get heavily out of bed, and, while he was putting on his
-clothes, Mary trimmed the lamp and stirred up the fire, in order that
-everything might be bright and warm to welcome him. And Allan, watching
-her, felt his eyes grow a little misty as he saw her loving
-thoughtfulness.</p>
-
-<p>“Better hurry up, Jack, dear,” she called. “You haven’t much time t’
-spare.”</p>
-
-<p>“Comin’, Mary, comin’,” he answered, “as soon as I git this plaguy boot
-on.”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s an awful night,” said his wife, as he came sleepily down the
-stair. “Do you have t’ go, Jack? Can’t y’ stay home on Christmas Eve?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, I have to go, Mary;” and he doused hands and face in a great basin
-of rain-water. “It’s th’ last time, y’ know, an’ I ain’t a-goin’ t’
-shirk now. Maybe th’ pay-car’ll come through t’-night. They promised us
-our pay this month fer Christmas, y’ know, an’ we want to be sure that
-she gits here all right. To-morrow we’ll have a great time, an’ they’ll
-be no more patrol duty after that.”</p>
-
-<p>Mamie danced around the floor, for she had received mysterious hints
-from Allan of what was to happen on the morrow, and her father picked
-her up and kissed her before he sat down to the supper that was on the
-table awaiting him. He drank his coffee and ate his bacon and eggs with
-an appetite born of good digestion. Then he donned his great boots and
-rubber coat.</p>
-
-<p>“Now, don’t y’ worry, Mary,” he said, drawing his wife to him. “There
-won’t a drop of rain git to me in this rig. Good-bye, Mamie,” and he
-picked up the child and kissed her again. “Take good care of ’em,
-Allan.”</p>
-
-<p>He rammed his wide leather hat down farther upon his head, made sure
-that his lantern was burning properly, took up the heavy club he always
-carried, and opened the door.</p>
-
-<p>“Good-bye,” he called back, and in a moment had disappeared in the
-darkness.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXVI' title='XVI: A CALL TO DUTY'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XVI.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>A CALL TO DUTY</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>Allan sat down by the table and picked up a book on telegraphy which he
-had secured from the public library of Wadsworth, and which he was
-studying faithfully in such odd hours as he had to himself,—without much
-result, be it said, since he had no instrument to practise on,—while
-Mrs. Welsh put the excited Mamie to bed, warning her to go to sleep at
-once, lest she frighten Santa Claus away, and then went slowly about the
-task of clearing up the supper dishes and putting the house in order for
-the morrow.</p>
-
-<p>“An’ we’ll hev t’ set up th’ Christmas tree to-night,” she remarked.
-“It’ll hev t’ be ready when Mamie wakes up in th’ mornin’, an’ she’ll
-wake mighty early.”</p>
-
-<p>“All right,” said Allan; “as soon as you’re ready, tell me.”</p>
-
-<p>That morning, on his way in from his trip, he had stopped to cut a
-little evergreen in a grove near the track, and this had been safely
-deposited in the cellar, out of the reach of Mamie’s curious eyes. Long
-strings of snow-white pop-corn had been threaded, streamers of
-bright-coloured tissue-paper prepared, little red and blue candles
-bought; all of which, together with the presents and parti-coloured
-candies, would make the tree in Mamie’s eyes a veritable fairy picture.
-It was her first Christmas tree, and it was to be a splendid one!</p>
-
-<p>“Now I’m ready, Allan,” said Mrs. Welsh, at last; and Allan laid aside
-his book and brought up the tree from the cellar, while Mrs. Welsh
-unlocked the closet where the ornaments and gifts had been carefully
-hidden. “We’ll set it up in that corner by th’ winder,” she continued;
-“then th’ people that goes by outside kin see it, too.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’m glad I’m going to be here when Mamie first sees it,” said Allan, as
-he nailed some cross-pieces on the bottom of the tree to hold it
-upright. “I’d be out on my trick if it hadn’t been for that order.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, an’ I’m glad, too,” agreed Mrs. Welsh. “That patrol work was hard
-on all o’ you. But this trip o’ Jack’s t’-night’ll be th’ last that any
-o’ th’ gang on Twenty-one has t’ make. I only wish th’ patrollin’ had
-ended to-day instead o’ to-morrer, then Jack’d be here with us now
-instead of out in that howlin’ storm.”</p>
-
-<p>They listened a moment to the wind whistling about the house, and to the
-rain lashing savagely against the windows.</p>
-
-<p>“It is a bad night,” said Allan, “but Jack won’t mind it. He’ll be
-thinking of the good time he’s going to have to-morrow.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well, I’m glad it’s th’ last time, anyway,—fer your sake, too, Allan.
-Jack an’ me used t’ worrit ourselves nearly sick when you’d start out
-alone that way. We never knowed what’d happen.”</p>
-
-<p>“And nothing ever happened, after all!” laughed Allan. “I believe that
-Dan Nolan has forgotten all about me long before this.”</p>
-
-<p>Mary shook her head doubtfully.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know,” she said. “But anyway it won’t matter now, for you’ll
-allers be with th’ gang after this, an’ Nolan won’t dare show his nose
-around where they are. Jack’s just achin’ t’ lay hands on him.”</p>
-
-<p>“There,” said Allan, as he drove the last nail, “that’s solid, I think,”
-and he set the tree up in the corner. “Now, what next?”</p>
-
-<p>“All these things has got t’ have little ribbons tied to ’em,” said Mrs.
-Welsh, who had been getting out the candy, fruits, and presents. “But I
-kin do that. You set down an’ read your book.”</p>
-
-<p>“Indeed I won’t!” protested the boy. “I want to feel that I’ve had
-something to do with this tree,” and he drew a chair up to the table.</p>
-
-<p>“Somethin’ t’ do with it!” retorted Mary. “You’ve had everything t’ do
-with it, I’m a-thinkin’. It’s your Christmas tree, Allan, an’ mighty
-nice of you to think of it, my boy.”</p>
-
-<p>“Oh, I wanted Mamie to have one,” he protested; “especially when it was
-so little trouble to get. Now it’s ready for the pop-corn.”</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Welsh began to drape the white festoons about the tree. Suddenly
-she paused and looked up with startled eyes.</p>
-
-<p>“What was that?” she asked.</p>
-
-<p>Allan listened with strained attention, but heard only the dashing of
-the rain and whistling of the wind.</p>
-
-<p>“It sounded like the trampin’ of men,” she said, after a moment.
-“Perhaps it wasn’t anything. Yes! There it is ag’in!”</p>
-
-<p>She sprang to the door and threw it open with frenzied haste. Up the
-path she saw dimly four men advancing, staggering under a burden. Her
-love told her what the burden was.</p>
-
-<p>“It’s Jack!” she screamed. “It’s Jack! My God! They’ve killed him!” and,
-forgetting the storm, she sprang down the path toward them.</p>
-
-<p>“Is he dead?” she demanded. “Tell me quick—is he dead?”</p>
-
-<p>It was Jack’s hearty voice that answered her.</p>
-
-<p>“Not by a good deal, Mary! It’ll take more’n a twisted ankle t’ kill
-Jack Welsh!”</p>
-
-<p>She threw her arms about him, sobbing wildly in her great relief, the
-men standing by, awkwardly supporting him.</p>
-
-<p>“But there! Here I am keepin’ you out in th’ wet! Bring him in, men,”
-and she ran on before, radiant with happiness. This misfortune was so
-much less than she had feared, that it seemed almost not to be a
-misfortune at all. “It’s only a sprained ankle, Allan,” she cried to the
-boy, and ran on past him to get a chair ready.</p>
-
-<p>The men settled the foreman down into the chair cautiously.</p>
-
-<p>“Shall I git th’ doctor?” asked one.</p>
-
-<p>Jack laughed.</p>
-
-<p>“Th’ doctor, indade!” he said. “Mary’ll fix this all right in no time.
-It ain’t bad. But I’m much obliged to ye, boys.”</p>
-
-<p>The men took themselves back to work, happier, somehow, for having
-witnessed the little scene on the pathway.</p>
-
-<p>But when the boot was cut away from the swollen ankle, it was evident
-that its owner would not go about on it again for many days to come. It
-was bathed and rubbed with liniment and tightly bandaged by the wife’s
-deft fingers, and the pain gradually grew less.</p>
-
-<p>“I slipped on a rail, y’ see,” explained Jack, when the injured member
-had been properly cared for.</p>
-
-<p>“My foot went down into a frog, an’ then I had t’ fall over and wrench
-it. I’m sorry it give y’ such a turn, Mary; I ought t’ have sent a man
-on ahead t’ warn you.”</p>
-
-<p>Mary smiled down on him indulgently.</p>
-
-<p>“’Twas better this way, Jack, dear,” she said. “I’m so happy now t’ have
-y’ alive here talkin’ t’ me that it hardly seems you’ve met with an
-accident at all! See, we was jest gittin’ th’ Christmas tree ready; now
-you kin set there, with your foot up on a chair like this and boss th’
-job. It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good; and I’m glad fer your own
-sake. Now you won’t have to go out in th’ storm.”</p>
-
-<p>But, at the words, the foreman’s face suddenly changed.</p>
-
-<p>“Good heavens!” he cried. “I fergot! Th’ track has t’ be patrolled.
-Somebody has t’ go,” and he raised himself in his chair, but fell back
-with a groan. “No use,” he muttered, between his clenched teeth.
-“To-night, too, when th’ pay-car’ll most probably come through! Allan,
-you’ll have t’ run over t’ th’ train-master, an’ git him t’ send
-somebody else.”</p>
-
-<p>“Mr. Schofield went to Cincinnati this morning, I think,” answered
-Allan. “I saw him getting on the train as I came in from the road.”</p>
-
-<p>“O’ course!” cried Jack, fiercely. “He’s gone down t’ come back with th’
-pay-car. Well, hunt up th’ chief despatcher, then; somebody’s got t’
-patrol that track.”</p>
-
-<p>Without a word, Allan donned the foreman’s rubber coat and great hat.
-Then he picked up the heavy club and the red signal-lantern, which was
-standing, still lighted, on the table, where one of the men had placed
-it.</p>
-
-<p>“What y’ goin’ t’ do with that?” demanded Jack, eying the boy uneasily.
-“Y’ don’t need that to go to th’ depot with.”</p>
-
-<p>“No,” said Allan, smiling, “but you see, I’m not going to the depot. I’m
-going to take your trick.”</p>
-
-<p>“No, you ain’t!” cried the other, fiercely.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, I am. There’s nobody else to be got at this time of night;
-besides, you said yourself there’s no danger.”</p>
-
-<p>Jack looked at him a moment doubtfully.</p>
-
-<p>“No, I don’t think there is,” he said at last. “But it’s a bad night.”</p>
-
-<p>“Pooh!” and Allan whirled his club disdainfully. “Not a drop of water
-can get to me in this rig,” he added, echoing Jack’s words.</p>
-
-<p>“Anyway,” said the latter, hesitatingly, “y’ll be back in three hours,
-an’ you kin sleep late in the mornin’. I don’t see no other way,” he
-added, with a sigh.</p>
-
-<p>“All right,” said Allan; “good-bye,” and went to the door.</p>
-
-<p>But Mrs. Welsh ran after him, threw her arms about his neck and kissed
-him.</p>
-
-<p>“You’re a good boy, Allan,” she cried, half-sobbing. “I’ll have a good
-hot meal fer you when y’ git back.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan laughed.</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll be ready for it. Be sure to make a good job of that Christmas
-tree! Good-bye,” and he opened the door and strode out into the night.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXVII' title='XVII: A NIGHT OF DANGER'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XVII.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>A NIGHT OF DANGER</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>But the storm was not to be dismissed so lightly as Allan had dismissed
-it. Among the houses of the town he was sheltered somewhat, but, as he
-strode on westward, out into the open country, it seemed to rage with
-redoubled violence. The wind swept across the embankment along the river
-with a fury which threatened to blow him away. He bent low before it,
-and, swinging his lantern from right to left in unison with his steps,
-fought his way slowly onward, his eyes on the track. Away down at his
-right he could hear the river raging, and from instant to instant the
-lightning disclosed to him glimpses of the storm-tossed water. Once he
-saw a ball of fire roll down the track far ahead and finally leap off,
-shattering into a thousand fragments.</p>
-
-<p>The thunder crashed incessantly, and overhead he could see great black
-clouds rolling across the sky. The rain fell in torrents, and, driven
-before the wind, dashed into his face with a violence which stung and
-blinded him whenever he raised his head. From time to time, he was
-forced to face about, his back to the wind, and gasp for breath. Once a
-gust of extra violence drove him to his knees, but he struggled up again
-and on. He knew that he was not the only one who was facing the tempest;
-he knew that up and down two hundred miles of track others were fighting
-the same fight. They had left warm homes, just as he had done, where
-preparations for Christmas were going on; they had not held back from
-the call of duty, nor would he.</p>
-
-<p>He shut his teeth tight together and staggered on. A vision flashed
-before him of the bright room he had just left; he could see Jack
-sitting in his chair, and Mary putting the last touches to the Christmas
-tree. He knew that they were talking of him, planning for him, and a
-sudden wave of tenderness swept over him at the thought of how these
-people had taken him into their hearts and given him another home in
-place of the one he had lost. The new one, of course, could never quite
-take the place of the old one; and yet he was no longer the friendless,
-hungry, lonely boy who had approached Jack Welsh so timidly that morning
-and asked for work. He had friends to whom he could look for sympathy
-and encouragement; there were hearts which loved him; he had a place in
-the world and was doing useful work; and he hoped in time to prove
-himself worthy of a higher place and competent to fill it. To-morrow
-would be a happy Christmas!</p>
-
-<p>So, as he fought his way on, it was with no despondent heart, but with a
-bright and hopeful one, that cared nothing for the discomfort of the
-storm. He was happy and at peace within, and no mere external tempest
-could disturb him!</p>
-
-<p>A little grove on either side the track, its trees roaring in the
-tempest, gave him a moment’s shelter. Then he pushed on to the two iron
-bridges which spanned the canal and the highroad just beyond it. These
-he looked over carefully by the light of his lantern, and assured
-himself that they were all right. Beyond the bridges was the long grade
-which led to the deep cut through the spur of hill which stretched
-across the track, and here the wind was howling with a fury that
-threatened to sweep him off his feet. But he fought his way on doggedly,
-step by step, head lowered, eyes on the track, lantern swinging from
-side to side.</p>
-
-<p>Then suddenly the wind ceased, though he could still hear it roaring far
-overhead, and he looked up to see that he had gained the cover of the
-cut. He stopped for breath, rejoicing that the hardest part of his task
-was over. Beyond the cut was a sharp curve, the road was carried on a
-high trestle over a deep ravine, and then onward along the top of an
-embankment,—a “fill,” in railroad parlance,—and this embankment marked
-the western limit of his trick. On his journey home, he would have the
-wind at his back and could get along easily and rapidly.</p>
-
-<p>Cheered by this thought, he walked on through the cut, but, as he turned
-the corner at the farther side, the wind struck him again with terrific
-force. He staggered back for an instant against the rock, when there
-came a great flash of lightning that silhouetted before him every
-feature of the landscape. Yet, as the lightning died, there remained
-photographed on his brain only one detail of the picture,—before him
-stretched the trestle, and in the middle of it four men were working
-with feverish energy tearing up a rail!</p>
-
-<p>He leaned back against the rock, dazed at the sight, not understanding
-for a moment what it meant. Then in a flash its meaning dawned upon
-him—they were preparing to wreck a train. But what train? It must be
-nearly eleven o’clock—no train was due for an hour or more—yes, there
-was—the pay-car, hurrying from Cincinnati with the Christmas money for
-the men. It was the pay-car they were after. But the pay-car was always
-crowded with armed men—men armed not merely with revolvers, but with
-Winchester repeaters. Yet, let the car crash over that trestle fifty
-feet upon the rocks below, and how many of its occupants would be living
-to defend themselves?</p>
-
-<p>Allan sank back among the rocks trembling, realizing that in some way he
-must save the train. His first act was to open his lantern and
-extinguish it, lest it betray him. Then he tried quickly to think out a
-plan of action. He must get across the trestle in order to flag the
-train—but how could he get across it? And of a sudden his heart stood
-still as two vague forms loomed up before him. They stopped for a moment
-in the shelter of the wall.</p>
-
-<p>“It was just about here,” said a rough voice he seemed to recognize. “I
-caught a glint of a red light an’ then it went out. I was watchin’ fer
-the track-walker, y’ know, an’ I was sure that was him.”</p>
-
-<p>“Flash o’ lightnin’, most likely,” came in a hoarse undertone from
-another.</p>
-
-<p>Allan heard the newcomers grope about, as he cowered close to the rock,
-his heart beating fiercely as he expected each moment to feel a hand
-upon him.</p>
-
-<p>“Y’ see they ain’t nobody here,” said the first speaker, at last.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” assented the other, uncertainly. “But he’s about due, if he’s
-comin’.”</p>
-
-<p>“I dunno,” protested the other. “Y’d better not bank on that.”</p>
-
-<p>“I ain’t a-bankin’ on it!” retorted his companion, impatiently. “You’re
-goin’ t’ keep a lookout, ain’t you? Now I’ll go on back an’ you stay
-right here. You kin see a long stretch down th’ track from here, so they
-can’t surprise us. If they’s more’n one, warn us,—maybe they’ve put on a
-double guard t’-night,—but, if they’s only one, wait here behind this
-rock, an’ when he comes past, do fer him—’specially if it’s Welsh ’r th’
-kid. It’s about time we was gittin’ even!”</p>
-
-<p>Allan’s heart leaped. He knew the voice now—there was no mistaking—it
-was Nolan’s!</p>
-
-<p>Nolan started back toward the trestle through the storm and was lost to
-sight instantly, while the sentry sat down upon a rock to watch the
-track, whistling to himself, as though train-wrecking were the most
-ordinary thing in the world. But Allan was thinking only of one thing—he
-must get past that man on the rock, he must cross the ravine, he must
-flag the train.</p>
-
-<p>That was his duty lying clear before him. Danger? Yes,—but which of his
-comrades would stop to think of that? Yet he must be careful,—not for
-his own sake, but for the sake of those who were speeding toward this
-peril. He must run no risk of failure, for their lives depended upon
-him—upon his coolness, his foresight, his quickness. And whatever he did
-must be done at once. He gripped his hands together to still their
-trembling. Come,—this was no time for weakness. He must prove himself a
-man! He must prove himself worthy the service of the road!</p>
-
-<p>He could not climb the well-nigh perpendicular side of the cut; to go
-back and work his way over the hill would require too much time—and
-there was not a moment to be lost. The only thing to do, then, was to go
-forward. He drew a deep breath; then he tucked his lantern snugly under
-his left arm, grasped his club firmly, and moved forward cautiously,
-hugging the side of the cut, his eyes on the sentry.</p>
-
-<p>Once he stumbled heavily over some obstruction, but the storm covered
-the noise, and the sentry made no sign that he had heard, but sat
-twirling a heavy stick and looking down the track. Hope began to revive
-in the boy’s breast; perhaps he might be able to steal past unseen.
-Lower and lower he crouched; slow and more slowly he moved; he was
-almost past—almost past—</p>
-
-<p>Then, of a sudden, a broad flash of lightning flared down into the cut
-and revealed them to each other.</p>
-
-<p>“Reddy!” cried the boy. “Reddy!”</p>
-
-<p>The sentry sprang toward him with uplifted club, his face distorted with
-rage.</p>
-
-<p>“Don’t you know me, Reddy?” cried Allan, springing back to avoid the
-blow.</p>
-
-<p>“Sure Oi knows y’!” shouted the madman, savagely, coming on. “An’ Oi’m
-a-goin’ t’ do fer y’, like Dan told me to. He told me y’re all in th’
-plot ag’in me!”</p>
-
-<p>“It’s a lie, Reddy!” protested Allan, violently. “It’s a lie!”</p>
-
-<p>Reddy paused for an instant.</p>
-
-<p>“A loi, is it?” he repeated. “Wasn’t it you as told on me fer breakin’
-that link motion?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” admitted the boy; “but—”</p>
-
-<div id='f246' style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:10.0%; width:80%;'>
- <img src='images/facing246.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-<p class='caption'>“HE STEPPED TO ONE SIDE, AND ... BROUGHT DOWN HIS CLUB UPON THE OTHER’S HEAD”</p>
-</div>
-
-<p>Reddy waited to hear no more.</p>
-
-<p>“Oi knowed it!” he yelled. “Oi knowed it! Oi’ll show you! Oi’ll show
-you, y’ dirty spy! Don’t try t’ run—it’s no use!”</p>
-
-<p>And he came charging down upon Allan, his club swinging savagely.</p>
-
-<p>But Allan was thinking not in the least of running. Instead, he stood
-his ground, his teeth clenched, his eyes alert, his club ready. He was
-not in the least excited; now, indeed, he found an instant in which to
-wonder at his calmness. Then Reddy was upon him and struck at him
-savagely. He stepped to one side, and, putting all his force into the
-blow,—oh, how he hated to do it!—brought down his club upon the other’s
-head.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXVIII' title='XVIII: THE SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XVIII.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>THE SIGNAL IN THE NIGHT</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>That blow had all the weight of Allan’s muscular young body behind it,
-for he had realized that this was no moment to hold his hand, however he
-might wish to do so, and Reddy tumbled in a limp heap upon the track.</p>
-
-<p>The tears were gushing from the boy’s eyes as he bent over the body and
-drew it to one side to the shelter of the rock. That he should have
-struck Reddy—perhaps even killed him! But he could not linger; with a
-last glance at the prostrate figure, he turned back to the task before
-him.</p>
-
-<p>Plainly he could not hope to cross the trestle with half a dozen men
-working on it—to try to do so would mean certain failure. Yet he must
-cross the ravine,—there was only one other way, and that not an easy
-one.</p>
-
-<p>He threw off Jack’s waterproof, which would only impede him now that he
-needed the utmost freedom of movement, and, holding his lantern tight,
-he jumped from the track and half-scrambled, half-fell down the steep
-descent below him, disregarding mud and brambles, torn clothes, and
-bruises, thinking only of one thing—that he must reach the other side
-and save the train. In a moment he was at the bottom, bruised and
-breathless, but luckily with no bones broken. Then for an instant he
-paused. Through the bottom of the ravine ran a stream, usually a gentle,
-shallow brook, but now swollen to an angry torrent by the pouring rain.
-There was no time for hesitation—no time to seek a better place—indeed,
-that was impossible in the darkness—and, holding his lantern high above
-his head, the boy dashed into the water.</p>
-
-<p>For a moment it seemed that he must be swept away, so fierce was the
-rush of the torrent; but he got his feet, braced himself against it, and
-inch by inch fought his way across. The water tore at him and raged
-around him, hissing and sputtering, determined that he should not
-escape. Well for him that he had had those months of work on section,
-which had strengthened muscle and steadied nerve—which had taught him
-how to fight!</p>
-
-<p>So, at last, he won through to the farther bank, breathless, exhausted,
-triumphant. And here a new difficulty met him. He had shut himself into
-a trap from which there seemed no escaping. Again and again he tried to
-climb the steep side of the ravine, but as many times slipped down to
-the bottom, bringing with him an avalanche of earth and loose stones.</p>
-
-<p>Dry sobs rose in his throat and choked him as he lay for a moment
-against the bank, weak and trembling. Was he to be defeated here, with
-the end almost in sight? Was he to fail, after all? Must he stay here to
-witness the train take that awful plunge from the trestle down into the
-torrent beneath? He looked up with a shudder. High above him, he could
-see the trestle dimly outlined against the sky, and he knew that the
-work of tearing up the rail must be almost done.</p>
-
-<p>He shook the weakness from him—he must be a man!—and he shut his eyes as
-he tried to picture to himself how the place looked by daylight. He had
-crossed the trestle a hundred times and gazed down into the ravine,
-admiring its rugged beauty. For centuries that little stream, which
-started in a spring high up on the hillside, had been labouring
-patiently digging this channel for itself, eating its way through earth
-and rock and slate, fashioning for itself a little narrow valley, just
-as the great streams make for themselves broad and fertile ones. It had
-eaten its way down and down, leaving on either side, extending to a
-height of nearly a hundred feet, rocky and precipitous banks. Allan
-remembered how in summer those banks were clothed in green; how he had
-looked down at them from the trestle. One day he had descried a
-brilliant patch of wild flowers near the bottom, where they had grown
-and spread, safe from man’s intrusion. He had never thought how much
-would one day depend upon his knowledge of the place, or he would have
-examined the banks more closely.</p>
-
-<p>Something swished through the air above him, and fell with a mighty
-splash into the torrent—it was the rail—it had been torn loose—the
-wreckers’ work was done. Now, they had only to wait until the train came
-dashing past! Perhaps even at this moment it was nearing the destruction
-which threatened it! The boy shuddered at the thought, and made another
-vain and desperate effort to scramble up the bank. This time he managed
-to get hold of a little bush high above his head, but, as he was pulling
-himself up, the bush gave way and he fell again to the bottom. He
-realized that he could never hope to climb that treacherous bank, that
-he must follow the ravine until it grew wider and shallower. Yet how
-could he do that and still be in time to save the train? There must be
-some way out near at hand! The robbers must have provided some path by
-which to get down to the wrecked train and get up again with their
-booty. But no doubt the path, if there was one, was on the other side of
-the ravine, where it would be of no use to him; very probably there was
-no path at all. The robbers had merely to let down a rope to provide a
-means of entrance and exit. He would have to go around, and he started
-blindly forward down the stream, holding his lantern tight, trembling to
-think of the precious moments he had wasted,—of the ones that he must
-yet waste before he could gain the track above and warn the engineer of
-the peril which lay before him. It was a desperate chance, but it seemed
-the only one.</p>
-
-<p>He groped his way stumblingly along, walking in the edge of the water,
-making such progress as he could; slipping, falling full length once or
-twice, but rising again and pressing forward. His teeth were chattering,
-for the icy water had chilled him to the bone, but he seemed not to be
-conscious of the cold; his hands and face were cut and bleeding,
-scratched by brambles and by the sharp edges of rocks and slate, but he
-did not feel the sting of the wounds. He was thinking only of one
-thing—he must get out of this trap—he must flag the train! There must be
-some way out! He could not fail now!</p>
-
-<p>Then, suddenly, he remembered. Just below the trestle, a little stream,
-rushing down the hillside to join the torrent below, had cut for itself
-a miniature ravine in the side of the larger one. He had noticed it one
-day not long before—had noticed its rocky bed, which rose steeply to the
-fields above, but not so steeply as the sides of the ravine itself. Here
-was a way up which he might escape, if he could only find it. It must be
-somewhere near,—and he groped his way along, faltering, stumbling,—and
-at last he found the cut.</p>
-
-<p>Yet it was not so easy of ascent as he had thought it would be; for the
-water was rushing headlong down it, threatening to sweep him back at
-every moment. Still he clambered on, digging knees and elbows into the
-mud, holding with desperate strength to the bushes that grew by the way,
-using every rock for foothold, up and up, until, at last, wet to the
-skin, with clothing torn and body cut, covered with mud, bruised and
-aching, but glowing with triumphant excitement, he reached the top.</p>
-
-<p>He knew the railroad was somewhere to the right, and he stumbled forward
-as fast as his trembling legs would carry him. More than once he tripped
-and fell heavily over a log or stone, but always he held tight his
-precious lantern, not minding his own bruises so that it was safe. And
-at last, with a great joy at his heart, he saw, stretching dimly ahead
-of him, the high embankment upon which rested the track.</p>
-
-<p>He sat down for a moment to take breath, then reached into his trousers
-pocket and drew out his match-safe. It was a company safe, and
-waterproof, for often the fate of a train depended on whether a
-watchman’s matches were wet or dry, and for this, at least, the company
-had the foresight to provide. Crouching in the shelter of the
-embankment, he found a little rock, and, holding it under his coat,
-struck a match against it. A gust of wind caught it instantly and blew
-it out. With trembling fingers, he struck another match, which sputtered
-feebly for a second, flared up and was extinguished; but the third match
-burned for a moment, and he applied it quickly to the wick of the
-lantern. How the red glare warmed and cheered him as he snapped the
-globe back into place! He was in time to save the train!</p>
-
-<p>Then he sprang to his feet. For away down the track before him came the
-sudden glare of a headlight, as the engine swung around a curve, and the
-hum of the wheels told that the engineer was speeding through the night,
-with throttle wide open, anxious, no doubt, to get safely into the haven
-of the yards at Wadsworth.</p>
-
-<p>Up the bank scrambled the boy and down the track he ran, as fast as his
-feet would carry him, swinging his lantern in great circles over his
-head. He knew that the engineer must see it; he knew that on such a
-night as this his eyes would be turned not an instant from the track.</p>
-
-<p>Then, suddenly, from behind him, there came the sharp crack of a
-revolver, and his lantern was smashed to pieces in his hand. He wheeled
-to see a flash of flame, as the revolver spoke again; the world reeled
-before him, turned black, and a great blow seemed to strike him in the
-chest and bear him down.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXIX' title='XIX: REDDY REDIVIVUS'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XIX.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>REDDY REDIVIVUS</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>Bill Johnson, engineer of the 187, pulling the pay-car, stared out into
-the night, his hand on the throttle. The long gleam of the headlight
-shot out through the driving rain, and he could see the wet rails
-gleaming far ahead. He was making a record run; the superintendent had
-given him some hint of his fear for the safety of the pay-car, and he
-heaved a sigh of relief as the train swung around a curve and hurtled
-down the fill on the straightaway course for Wadsworth. Once in the
-yards there, the pay-car would be safe.</p>
-
-<p>Then, with a quick gasp, he closed the throttle, reversed the engine,
-and threw on the brakes, for, far down the track ahead of him he had
-caught the gleam of a red lantern waved twice in the air. The light had
-vanished mysteriously in full flight, but a single glimpse of it was
-warning enough for Johnson.</p>
-
-<p>The moment the brakes were applied, the detectives, back in the pay-car,
-had grabbed down the Winchesters from the wall and made ready for a
-fight. It might be that the engineer had sighted an obstruction on the
-track, and they waited instant by instant to feel the car leave the
-rails. It stopped with a jerk, and the detectives piled out, ready for
-anything.</p>
-
-<p>“What’s the matter?” they asked, coming to the spot where Johnson was
-leaning out of his cab window.</p>
-
-<p>“Somebody flagged me a minute ago,” answered Johnson, still peering out
-through the night. “It’s funny he don’t come ahead an’ tell us what’s
-th’ trouble.”</p>
-
-<p>“Maybe it’s a trick to get us away from the car,” said somebody, and the
-detectives faced about in the darkness, instinctively bracing themselves
-to receive a volley of bullets.</p>
-
-<p>“Climb up here in th’ cab,” suggested Johnson, “an’ I’ll go ahead slow,
-an’ find out what’s th’ matter.”</p>
-
-<p>They climbed up instantly, and the engine crept slowly ahead, while they
-all peered out through the dashing rain, expecting they knew not what.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s somethin’ on th’ track,” cried Johnson, after a moment, his
-trained eyes catching the first glimpse of a dim obstruction. “It’s a
-man!” he said. “It’s th’ track-walker. Somebody done fer him jest as he
-was signallin’ me! That’s why his lantern went out!”</p>
-
-<p>The men ran forward, Mr. Schofield among them. In the white glare of the
-headlight, they could see a form stretched heavily across the track,
-lying on its face.</p>
-
-<p>One of the men turned it over.</p>
-
-<p>“My God! It’s young West!” cried Mr. Schofield, and dropped on his knee
-beside him.</p>
-
-<p>“And shot through the breast,” added one of the detectives, indicating
-the growing blood-stain upon the boy’s shirt.</p>
-
-<p>They carried him tenderly back to the pay-car and laid him on a cot
-there. His right hand still grasped the handle of his shattered lantern,
-holding it so tightly that they could not remove it. Mr. Schofield
-himself did what he could to stop the flow of blood; then went forward
-cautiously to investigate. In the centre of the trestle, they found that
-a rail had been torn from the track.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s where we’d have been by this time but for that boy,” said Mr.
-Schofield, in a low voice, and motioned toward the abyss, his face set
-and livid. “How he got past the wreckers I can’t imagine. Now I want you
-men to run down the fiends who did this. We’ve got to have them, no
-matter what it costs! Now get after them! I’ll get this rail back—don’t
-bother about that—and take the pay-car in. You fellows catch these
-scoundrels!”</p>
-
-<p>The detectives hurried away into the night, while Mr. Schofield called
-the train-crew, got out an extra rail which was always kept by the side
-of the bridge, and soon had it spiked into place.</p>
-
-<p>“Now go ahead, Johnson,” he called to the engineer, “but you’d better
-run slow—maybe there’s another rail loose somewhere,” and he swung
-himself up the steps of the pay-car and sat down by Allan’s cot, with a
-very grim face.</p>
-
-<p>But let Johnson, the engineer, tell the rest of the story, as he told it
-to a group of interested auditors the very next day in the roundhouse
-office.</p>
-
-<p>“I tell you, I run over that trestle mighty cautious-like,” he said,
-“an’ it give me a turn when I looked down into that ditch an’ thought of
-what would have happened if th’ boy hadn’t flagged us. But we got across
-all right, an’ started through th’ cut, still runnin’ slow, fer I didn’t
-know but what there might be a rock on the track, when I heard somebody
-hollerin’ at me, an’ in a minute up comes Reddy Magraw climbin’ into th’
-cab, lookin’ crazier ’n ever.</p>
-
-<p>“‘How did I git out here?’ he asked, wild-like. ‘Who fetched me out
-here? What ’m I doin’ ’way out here?’</p>
-
-<p>“‘If you don’t know, I don’t,’ says I. ‘Set down there an’ rest. What’s
-th’ matter with your head?’ I asked, fer I saw it was all bloody on one
-side.</p>
-
-<p>“Reddy put his hand up and felt of his head; then he took his hand down
-an’ looked at the blood on it.</p>
-
-<p>“‘I dunno,’ he says. ‘Mebbe th’ engine hit me. Where’s Welsh an’ the
-rest o’ th’ gang? They oughtn’t to have gone off an’ left me layin’ out
-here like this,—I didn’t think they’d do that!’</p>
-
-<p>“‘What engine hit you?’ I asked.</p>
-
-<p>“‘Why, th’ engine o’ Number Four,’ he says. ‘I didn’t have time t’ git
-out of th’ road after I threw th’ switch. But I didn’t think th’ boys’d
-’a’ left me layin’ out here like this. Why, I might ’a’ died!’</p>
-
-<p>“Well, sir, it come to me all in a minute that somehow Reddy Magraw had
-got his senses back, an’ I tell you it set me a-tremblin’ jest like th’
-time my wife had her first baby. I was purty nigh scared to death!</p>
-
-<p>“‘I guess th’ engine must ’a’ hit you, sure,’ I says, to ease him up.
-Then, as th’ track was clear, I opened up my engine, while Magraw set on
-the floor of th’ cab in a dazed sort of way. Never a word did he say
-till we pulled into the yards.</p>
-
-<p>“‘You’d better see a doctor,’ I says. But he jumped off th’ engine th’
-minute we stopped.</p>
-
-<p>“‘I don’t want no doctor,’ he says. ‘I’m goin’ home.’ An’ he started off
-on a run.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, you orter seen Mr. Schofield when I told him. He went along with
-th’ boy, an’ seen him fixed up, an’ then hurried away with th’ doctor t’
-see Reddy. An’ he found him at home with his wife on one knee an’ his
-children on th’ other,—he told us when he got back.”</p>
-
-<p>Johnson stopped, took out his handkerchief, and mopped his eyes openly.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t keer,” he said, looking around defiantly. “It’s enough t’ make
-any man’s eyes wet t’ think of what that family’s been through, an’ now
-Reddy’s give back to ’em ag’in with a head’s good as anybody’s. Why, it
-beats anything I ever heard of!”</p>
-
-<p>And, indeed, it was a nine-days’ wonder to every one. The doctors came
-and looked at him and explained what had happened in many learned words,
-and one of them wrote a paper about it, which he read before a medical
-society; the newspapers heard of it and wrote it up, and published
-Reddy’s photograph,—why, Mrs. Magraw has all those papers put carefully
-away, and she gets them out occasionally even yet, and reads them and
-cries over them,—but they are tears of happiness and thanksgiving. For
-Reddy was as well as ever, and the gist of all the learned medical
-opinions was that the blow on the head which Allan dealt him had somehow
-set right the brain disordered by the blow it had received from the
-engine months before. It did for him just what an operation might have
-done, and did it effectually. How it had done it, the doctors couldn’t
-say, and there were many warm discussions over it. It was not without
-precedent,—not unfrequently a case of the same kind is reported,—but the
-righting of that delicate mechanism, the brain, is something that no
-physician, be he never so famous, as yet thoroughly understands.</p>
-
-<p>The one fact remained that Reddy was himself again, and freed for ever
-from the influence of Dan Nolan. And, indeed, Nolan himself was destined
-to pay the penalty for his iniquities. For the detectives soon found the
-trail of him and his companions; the help of the Wadsworth police force
-was secured, a bloodhound was brought to the scene, and all that night
-the pursuit was kept up among the hills. When morning dawned, the quarry
-was run to cover in an old log hut near the top of Mount Logan, and the
-detectives and police surrounded it.</p>
-
-<p>The robbers put up a short fight, but they saw they had no chance to
-escape, and the bullets from the Winchesters were whistling through the
-cabin in a most unnerving way, so they waved a white rag out of one of
-the windows and surrendered. There were four in the party, Nolan and
-three tramps whom nobody knew. They were taken back to Wadsworth and
-lodged safely in jail there, leaving it only to go to the State
-penitentiary at Columbus to serve a term of years. Nolan broke down at
-the last, like the great coward he really was, confessed, plead guilty,
-and turned State’s evidence against his comrades in order to save
-himself a year or two of imprisonment. So that was the end of Nolan for
-a time; but his power for mischief was not yet at an end, and he later
-involved some of his old associates in new disasters—but that story
-cannot be told here.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='chapter'>
-
-<h2 class='nobreak' id='chXX' title='XX: THE ROAD’S GRATITUDE'>
- <span style='font-size:1.2em'>CHAPTER XX.</span><br /><span style='font-size:1.0em'>THE ROAD’S GRATITUDE</span>
-</h2>
-
-<p>It was only a memory now, that gray, wet Christmas morning when Allan
-had been brought home pale and limp, on a stretcher. They had started
-from bed at the first tap on the door, for his prolonged absence had
-begun to worry them, and Jack, unheeding his sprained ankle, had hobbled
-to it and flung it open. He stood silent as they brought the boy in and
-set the stretcher on the floor. He watched the doctor strip back his
-clothing, remove the rude bandage that had been hastily placed over the
-wound, wipe away the blood, and begin to probe for the bullet. Mary,
-too, had thrown on her gown and stood watching the operation with white
-face.</p>
-
-<p>“Doctor,” burst out Jack, at last, almost fiercely, “don’t tell me he’s
-dead! Don’t tell me he’s goin’ t’ die! He saved my little girl. Don’t
-tell me I let him go t’ his death!”</p>
-
-<p>“He’ll not die,” said the doctor, reassuringly. “The bullet seems to
-have been deflected from its course and to have made only a bad flesh
-wound.”</p>
-
-<p>But it turned the watchers sick to see the probe sink in deeper and
-deeper. Suddenly the surgeon gave a little exclamation and ran his hand
-under the boy’s shoulder.</p>
-
-<p>“Here,” he said to his assistant, “turn him over.”</p>
-
-<p>He made a quick cut with a knife under the shoulder-blade, and a little
-flattened piece of lead fell into his hand.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s the bullet,” and he handed it to Welsh. “Maybe he’ll want it
-for a keepsake.” And he proceeded skilfully to bandage up the wound.</p>
-
-<p>But it was not until Allan opened his eyes and smiled faintly up at them
-that Jack and Mary believed that he could live. They fell on their knees
-beside his bed, but the doctor hurried them away.</p>
-
-<p>“What he needs now is sleep,” he said. “Let him sleep as long as he
-can.”</p>
-
-<p>“But look at his poor face, doctor,” whispered Mary, “an’ at his hands,
-all tore and scratched. Do ye suppose them devils did that to him, too?”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know,” said the doctor. “Those scratches won’t hurt him; it’s
-that wound in the breast that’s dangerous. Now, let him sleep.”</p>
-
-<p>And sleep he did, all through that Christmas Day. The story of his
-exploit had got about, and a constant stream of railroad men came softly
-up the path to ask how he was doing, and to stand around afterward and
-discuss the story. All night he slept, with Mary watching by his
-bedside, and, when he opened his eyes next morning, she was still
-sitting there.</p>
-
-<p>The doctor came an hour later, looked at the wound, felt his pulse, and
-nodded encouragingly.</p>
-
-<p>“He’ll pull through all right,” he said. “He’s got a little fever, but
-that was to be expected. But he’s in first-class shape and will soon
-rally from that wound. Keep him quiet for a day or two.”</p>
-
-<p>Before that time, the fever had subsided, the wound was healing nicely,
-and the doctor pronounced his patient out of danger.</p>
-
-<p>“He’s pretty weak,” he said, “and must take things easy. Don’t let him
-strain himself any way, or he may open the wound. Keep him quiet and
-cheerful—his youth will do the rest.”</p>
-
-<p>How they vied with one another to nurse Allan back to strength again.
-Reddy, his old self, was the first caller, with his heart going out to
-the boy with a love that was well-nigh worship.</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t know nothin’ ’bout how it happened, Allan,” he said, wringing
-the hand of the white-faced boy, “but I think I can count on y’ not to
-be layin’ it up ag’in me.”</p>
-
-<p>Allan leaned back and laughed.</p>
-
-<p>“I think if you can cry quits, I can,” he said. How the great load
-rolled from off his heart as he saw Reddy, whom he had last beheld lying
-prone at his feet, now his genial old self again!</p>
-
-<p>“But, oh, Reddy, I did hate to hit you!”</p>
-
-<p>“Ho, ho!” cried Reddy; “if it had kilt me intirely, Oi’d ’a’ been th’
-last to complain! Is it true, Allan, that I was runnin’ around with
-tramps?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, that’s true, Reddy.”</p>
-
-<p>“An’ hobnobbin’ with Dan Nolan?”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes.”</p>
-
-<p>“An’ abusin’ my missus?”</p>
-
-<p>“You didn’t abuse her, Reddy.”</p>
-
-<p>“An’ fightin’ my best friends, an’ wreckin’ railroad property, an’
-actin’ generally loike a low-down haythen?” went on Reddy, rapidly.
-“Why, th’ only thing I can’t forgive y’ fer, Allan, is thet y’ didn’t
-knock me over th’ head long afore!”</p>
-
-<p>“I would, Reddy,” laughed Allan, “if I’d thought it would cure you.”</p>
-
-<p>“If it hadn’t cured me,” said Reddy, “it might ’a’ kilt me-an’ thet was
-what I deserved!”</p>
-
-<p>Joy is the best of all medicines, and Allan’s improvement was rapid. At
-the end of a week he could spend hours lying back in a padded chair, and
-Jack was finally prevailed upon to go regularly to work and leave the
-care of the invalid to his wife.</p>
-
-<p>It was on the platform before the station that the superintendent
-stopped him one evening, as he was hurrying home from work.</p>
-
-<p>“How are things out on the line?” he asked.</p>
-
-<p>“All right, sir.”</p>
-
-<p>“Going to win the track prize again this spring?”</p>
-
-<p>“No, sir,” and Jack grew suddenly grave. “One of my best men is laid up,
-y’ know.”</p>
-
-<p>“Ah, yes,” and the superintendent nodded. “How is the boy getting along,
-Jack?”</p>
-
-<p>“He’ll pull through,” said the other, slowly, “but he had a mighty close
-call. If th’ bullet hadn’t struck a rib an’ glanced off, he’d ’a’ been
-done fer. I went down t’ look at th’ place he got acrost th’ ravine, an’
-I don’t see how he done it.”</p>
-
-<p>“Neither do I,” agreed the superintendent. “I took a look at it, too.”</p>
-
-<p>“Well,” continued Jack, “th’ fever’s over now, an’ he’s gittin’ his
-strength back.”</p>
-
-<p>“And his appetite, too, I dare say.”</p>
-
-<p>“Yes,” assented Jack, with a quick smile of enjoyment, “an’ his
-appetite, too. Why, it does us more good t’ see him eat than to eat
-ourselves.”</p>
-
-<p>“I don’t doubt it; but you mustn’t spoil the boy with too much
-coddling.”</p>
-
-<p>“Spoil him!” retorted Jack. “Not fer a minute! Why, y’ couldn’t spoil
-him, sir. He’s pure gold, all th’ way through.”</p>
-
-<p>The superintendent started on, stopped for an instant to chew his
-moustache, then turned back.</p>
-
-<p>“Jack!” he called.</p>
-
-<p>“Yes, sir,” and the foreman stopped.</p>
-
-<p>“You were saying,” began the superintendent, a little awkwardly, “that
-the boy’s eating again. He ought to have some dainties, Welsh; oysters
-and chicken and fruit, and that sort of thing.”</p>
-
-<p>“We hope t’ be able t’ git ’em fer him, sir,” answered Jack, with
-dignity.</p>
-
-<p>“Well, the road won’t let you get them,” said the superintendent. “We
-owe him a good deal, and we’re going to pay some of it this way. I’m
-going to stop in over here at the store and tell Fisher to send the boy
-whatever he wants and send the bill in to the road. I’ll see that it’s
-paid. Of course, we’ll take care of the doctor and drug bills, too. Now,
-maybe he’d like some oranges or pineapple or something of that sort
-right away. Anyway, I’ll tell Fisher,” and he hurried on, as though
-fearing to hear what the other might say.</p>
-
-<p>Welsh looked after him for a moment without saying anything, then turned
-toward home.</p>
-
-<p>And Mr. Heywood, hurrying on, stopped at the grocery and gave certain
-directions.</p>
-
-<p>“And see here, Fisher,” he concluded, “you’ll send the bill to me, but
-that’s nobody’s business but our own. I want them to think that the
-road’s paying for it.”</p>
-
-<p>Half an hour later, a grocer’s boy knocked at the door of the Welsh
-cottage and handed in a great basket of dainties, and Allan was soon
-smiling over a bowl of steaming oyster soup, with Jack and his wife and
-Mamie grouped about the bed watching him enjoy it. And I don’t believe
-there is any more exquisite pleasure in the world than that which they
-experienced in that moment!</p>
-
-<p>The winter days were clear and bright, and Allan found a rare enjoyment
-in lying back in the great chair which Mrs. Welsh had padded expressly
-for him, and looking out over the yards and watching the busy life
-there. He was sitting so one afternoon when some one turned in at the
-gate and mounted the path to the house.</p>
-
-<p>“Why, it’s Misther Schofield!” cried Mary, and hastily dusted off a
-chair with her apron, in honour of the distinguished visitor,—not that
-it needed dusting.</p>
-
-<p>The train-master came up with smiling face.</p>
-
-<p>“How are you, Mrs. Welsh?” he asked. “And how is the invalid?”</p>
-
-<p>He sat down by the side of the chair, and, reaching over, gave Allan’s
-hand a hearty clasp.</p>
-
-<p>“Do you know, I am ashamed of myself for not getting here before this,”
-he went on, genially, “but I have kept posted about you, because I
-wanted to know when you were ready to go back to work.”</p>
-
-<p>“I’ll be ready before long, sir,” said Allan, smiling in sympathy with
-his guest’s good humour. “I’m getting quite strong again.”</p>
-
-<p>But Mrs. Welsh interrupted him.</p>
-
-<p>“Listen at th’ boy!” she cried, indignantly. “Why, Misther Schofield,
-an’ him with a bullethole clear through him t’ think o’ goin’ out an’
-workin’ on section!”</p>
-
-<p>The train-master was smiling more broadly than ever.</p>
-
-<p>“It does seem pretty tough, doesn’t it?” he said. “Here’s a boy who’s
-saved the company’s pay-car with two hundred thousand dollars in it, and
-the lives of ten or fifteen men, and came within a hair’s breadth of
-getting killed. And yet he has to work on section for forty dollars a
-month. But then, there’s not so much danger on section any more; we’ve
-routed the tramps, you know, for good and all. Still, it’s pretty
-tough.”</p>
-
-<p>“Tough!” and Mrs. Welsh looked at him with flaming eyes. “It’s worse ’n
-that, beggin’ your pardon, sir. It’s a sin an’ a shame! It’s a disgrace
-t’ th’ company!”</p>
-
-<p>Allan tried to silence her, but she would not be silenced. He stole a
-horrified glance at Mr. Schofield, and was astonished to see that he was
-still smiling.</p>
-
-<p>“A disgrace!” repeated that official. “Well, I agree with you, Mrs.
-Welsh. So we’re not going to let him go back on section. We can’t afford
-to waste a good man that way. It’s a little late for a Christmas gift,
-maybe, but he’s earned it and he’s going to get it.”</p>
-
-<p>Mary stared at the speaker, speechless.</p>
-
-<p>“There’s a job open in my office, young man,” he went on, turning to
-Allan. “It’s yours if you want it. It’s not such a very good job, for it
-pays only fifty dollars a month, but you’ll learn more about railroading
-there in a month than you can ever do on section, and you’ll be in line
-for promotion, and you’ll get promoted when you merit it. What do you
-say?”</p>
-
-<p>What could Allan say, with a heart too full for utterance? He reached
-out his hands blindly, and the other, understanding, clasped them in his
-strong, steady ones.</p>
-
-<hr class='tbk' />
-
-<p>And that was how it came about that Allan got the place in the offices
-which he had longed for, under the eye of the best train-master in the
-West, where, as he had promised, there was more railroading to be
-learned in a month than in a lifetime of section work. He became a part
-of the brain which ruled and directed the whole wonderful system. He
-came to know what the instruments ticking madly away on every table were
-saying. He proved himself worthy of the trust reposed in him, and on two
-critical occasions, at least, he displayed a nerve and quickness of
-judgment which caused the general manager to ask the train-master:</p>
-
-<p>“Who is this fellow named West you’ve got down there in your office,
-Schofield? He seems a good one.”</p>
-
-<p>“He <i>is</i> a good one,” Mr. Schofield had responded, earnestly. “You’ll
-hear from him again.”</p>
-
-<p>How the prophecy came true and what adventures befell Allan in his new
-position will be told in “The Young Train-despatcher”; but, whatever his
-successes, I doubt if he ever knew happier days than those he spent with
-Reddy and Jack Welsh on Section Twenty-one.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='margin-top:1em;'>THE END.</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div class='c'>
-<div>BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE</div>
-<hr class='ad' />
-<div style='font-size:1.2em'>THE LITTLE COLONEL BOOKS</div>
-<div class='fs08'>(Trade Mark.)</div>
-<div class='i mt05'>By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</div>
-<div class='fs08 mb10'>Each, 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative, per vol. $1.50</div>
-</div>
-<div class='b mt05'>The Little Colonel Stories.</div>
-<div class='fs08 ml5p'>(Trade Mark.)</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Illustrated.</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Being three “Little Colonel” stories in the Cosy Corner
-Series, “The Little Colonel,” “Two Little Knights of Kentucky,”
-and “The Giant Scissors,” put into a single volume.</div>
-<div class='b mt05'>The Little Colonel’s House Party.</div>
-<div class='fs08 ml5p'>(Trade Mark.)</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Illustrated by Louis Meynell.</div>
-<div class='b mt05'>The Little Colonel’s Holidays.</div>
-<div class='fs08 ml5p'>(Trade Mark.)</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman.</div>
-<div class='b mt05'>The Little Colonel’s Hero.</div>
-<div class='fs08 ml5p'>(Trade Mark.)</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</div>
-<div class='b mt05'>The Little Colonel at Boarding School.</div>
-<div class='fs08 ml5p'>(Trade Mark.)</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</div>
-<div class='b mt05'>The Little Colonel in Arizona.</div>
-<div class='fs08 ml5p'>(Trade Mark.)</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</div>
-<div class='b mt05'>The Little Colonel’s Christmas Vacation.</div>
-<div class='fs08 ml5p'>(Trade Mark.)</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Illustrated by E. B. Barry.</div>
-<div class='ml5p'>Since the time of “Little Women,” no juvenile heroine
-has been better beloved of her child readers than Mrs.
-Johnston’s “Little Colonel.”</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div>L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY’S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE</div>
-</div>
-<hr class='ad' />
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Joel: a Boy of Galilee.</b></p>
-
-<p>By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Annie Fellows Johnston</span>. Illustrated by L. J. Bridgman.</p>
-
-<p>New illustrated edition, uniform with the Little Colonel Books, 1 vol.,
-large 12mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>A story of the time of Christ, which is one of the author’s best-known
-books, and which has been translated into many languages, the last being
-Italian.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Asa Holmes;</b> <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>or, at the Cross-Roads</span>, a sketch of Country Life and
-Country Humor. By Annie Fellows Johnston. With a frontispiece by Ernest
-Fosbery.</p>
-
-<p>Large 16mo, cloth, gilt top . . . $1.00</p>
-
-<p>“‘Asa Holmes; or, At the Cross-Roads’ is the most delightful, most
-sympathetic and wholesome book that has been published in a long while.
-The lovable, cheerful, touching incidents, the descriptions of persons
-and things are wonderfully true to nature.”—<i>Boston Times</i>.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>In the Desert of Waiting:</b> <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Legend of Camelback Mountain.</span></p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Three Weavers:</b> <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>A Fairy Tale for Fathers and Mothers as Well as
-for Their Daughters</span>. By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Annie Fellows Johnston.</span></p>
-
-<p>Each one volume, tall 16mo, cloth decorative . . . $0.60</p>
-
-<p>There has been a constant demand for publication in separate form of
-these two stories, which were originally included in two of the “Little
-Colonel” books, and the present editions, which are very charmingly
-gotten up, will be delightful and valued gift-books for both old and
-young.</p>
-
-<p>“‘The Three Weavers’ is the daintiest fairy-story I ever read,” wrote
-one critic, and the <i>Louisville Post</i> calls “In the Desert of Waiting” a
-“gem, an exquisite bit of work. Mrs. Johnston is at her best in this web
-of delicate fancy, woven about the deep centre truth.” Those who have
-read the stories as they originally appeared will be glad to find them
-published individually.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Little Lady Marjorie.</b> By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Frances Margaret Fox</span>, author of “Farmer
-Brown and the Birds,” etc.</p>
-
-<p>12mo, cloth, illustrated . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>A charming story for children between the ages of ten and fifteen years,
-with both heart and nature interest.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Sandman:</b> <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>his farm stories</span>. By William J. Hopkins. With fifty
-illustrations by Ada Clendenin Williamson.</p>
-
-<p>One vol., large 12mo, decorative cover . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>“An amusing, original book, written for the benefit of children not more
-than six years old, is ‘The Sandman: His Farm Stories.’ It should be one
-of the most popular of the year’s books for reading to small
-children.”—<i>Buffalo Express</i>.</p>
-
-<p>“Mothers and fathers and kind elder sisters who take the little ones to
-bed and rack their brains for stories will find this book a
-treasure.”—<i>Cleveland Leader</i>.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Sandman:</b> <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>More Farm Stories.</span> By William J. Hopkins, author of
-“The Sandman: His Farm Stories.”</p>
-
-<p>Library 12mo, cloth decorative, fully illustrated . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>Mr. Hopkins’s first essay at bedtime stories has met with such approval
-that this second book of “Sandman” tales has been issued for scores of
-eager children. Life on the farm, and out-of-doors, will be portrayed in
-his inimitable manner, and many a little one will hail the bedtime
-season as one of delight.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Puritan Knight Errant.</b> By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Edith Robinson</span>, author of “A Little
-Puritan Pioneer,” “A Little Puritan’s First Christmas,” “A Little
-Puritan Rebel,” etc.</p>
-
-<p>Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>The charm of style and historical value of Miss Robinson’s previous
-stories of child life in Puritan days have brought them wide popularity.
-Her latest and most important book appeals to a large juvenile public.
-The “knight errant” of this story is a little Don Quixote, whose trials
-and their ultimate outcome will prove deeply interesting to their
-reader.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Rival Campers;</b> <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>or, the Adventures of Henry Burns.</span> By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Ruel P.
-Smith</span>.</p>
-
-<p>12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>Here is a book which will grip and enthuse every boy who is lucky enough
-to secure it. It is the story of a party of typical American lads,
-courageous, alert, and athletic, who spend a summer camping on an island
-off the Maine coast. Every boy reader will envy them their
-adventures,—yacht-racing, canoeing, and camping,—which culminate in
-their discovery and capture of a gang of daring robbers; but the
-influence of wholesome, outdoor life in the development of manly
-character is well brought out. Henry Burns, the leader of the boys, is a
-character in juvenile fiction of whom we are likely to hear again.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Young Section Hand;</b> <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>or, The Adventures of Allan West.</span> By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Burton
-E. Stevenson</span>, author of “The Marathon Mystery,” etc.</p>
-
-<p>12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>Every branch of railroading fascinates the average American boy. The
-shops, the telegraph and signal systems, the yard and track work, the
-daily life of danger which confronts every employee, whether he be the
-ordinary workman or the engineer of a limited express train, and the
-mysterious “office” which controls every branch of the work,—each holds
-out its allurements to him.</p>
-
-<p>In this story Mr. Stevenson’s hero is just the right sort, a manly lad
-of sixteen who is given a chance as a section hand on a big Western
-railroad, and whose experiences are as real as they are thrilling. He is
-persecuted by the discharged employee whose place he took, and becomes
-involved in complications which nearly cause his undoing; but his
-manliness and courage are finally proven, and the reward is his for duty
-done at any cost.</p>
-
-<div style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:45%; width:10%;'>
- <img src='images/admark.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-</div>
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Born to the Blue.</b> By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Florence Kimball Russel</span>.</p>
-
-<p>12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.00</p>
-
-<p>The atmosphere of army life on the plains breathes on every page of this
-delightful tale. The boy is the son of a captain of U. S. cavalry
-stationed at a frontier post in the days when our regulars earned the
-gratitude of a nation. His military training is begun at a very early
-age; and how well he profits by the soldierly qualities of manhood and
-honor and modesty and courtesy instilled is brought out in a series of
-incidents and adventures which will appeal to every youngster, and to
-many of their elders. Every phase of garrison life is included, for,
-though an officer’s son, his friends range from the colonel commanding
-to the trooper who taught him to ride his Indian pony.</p>
-
-<p>The author is herself “of the army,” and knows every detail of the life.
-From reveille to retreat her descriptions are accurate, which adds to
-the value and interest of the book.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>“Yours with All My Heart:”</b> The Autobiography of a Real Dog. By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Esther
-M. Baxendale</span>. With nearly a hundred illustrations from photographs and
-from drawings by Etheldred B. Barry.</p>
-
-<p>Large 12mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>Mrs. Baxendale’s charming story, though written primarily for children,
-will find a warm welcome from all those who love animals. It is a true
-story of a deeply loved pet and companion of the author’s for thirteen
-years; and it cannot fail to inspire in the hearts of all the young
-people fortunate enough to hear it that affection and sympathy for
-domestic animals so essential in the moulding of character.</p>
-
-<div style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:45%; width:10%;'>
- <img src='images/admark.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-</div>
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Roses of St. Elizabeth.</b> By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Jane Scott Woodruff</span>, author of “The
-Little Christmas Shoe.”</p>
-
-<p>12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated . . . $1.00</p>
-
-<p>This is a charming little story of a child whose father was caretaker of
-the great castle of the Wartburg, where St. Elizabeth once had her home,
-with a fairy-tale interwoven in which the roses and the ivy in the
-castle yard tell to the child and her playmate quaint old legends of the
-saint and the castle. This is just the sort of a story that girls love,
-with its sweetness and its fragrance and its faint echo of days long
-gone, with a suspicion of present-day romance at the end.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Songs and Rhymes for the Little Ones.</b> Compiled by <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Mary Whitney
-Morrison</span> (Jenny Wallis).</p>
-
-<p>New edition, with an introduction by Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney, with eight
-illustrations.</p>
-
-<p>One vol., large 12mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.00</p>
-
-<p>No better description of this admirable book can be given than Mrs.
-Whitney’s happy introduction:</p>
-
-<p>“One might almost as well offer June roses with the assurance of their
-sweetness, as to present this lovely little gathering of verse, which
-announces itself, like them, by its deliciousness. Yet as Mrs.
-Morrison’s charming volume has long been a delight to me, I am only too
-happy to link my name with its new and enriched form in this slight way,
-and simply declare that it is to me the most bewitching book of songs
-for little people that I have ever known.”</p>
-
-<div style='margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:45%; width:10%;'>
- <img src='images/admark.jpg' alt='' style='width:100%' />
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;'>PHYLLIS’ FIELD FRIENDS SERIES</div>
-<div style='font-style:italic;'>By LENORE E. MULETS</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Six vols., cloth decorative, illustrated by Sophie Schneider. Sold
-separately, or as a set.</p>
-
-<p>Per volume . . . $1.00</p>
-
-<p>Per set . . . 6.00</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Insect Stories.</b></p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Stories of Little Animals.</b></p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Flower Stories.</b></p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Bird Stories.</b></p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Tree Stories.</b></p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Stories of Little Fishes.</b></p>
-
-<p>In this series of six little Nature books, it is the author’s intention
-so to present to the child reader the facts about each particular
-flower, insect, bird, or animal, in story form, as to make delightful
-reading. Classical legends, myths, poems, and songs are so introduced as
-to correlate fully with these lessons, to which the excellent
-illustrations are no little help.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;'>THE WOODRANGER TALES</div>
-<div style='font-style:italic;'>By G. WALDO BROWNE</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Woodranger.</b></p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Young Gunbearer.</b></p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Hero of the Hills.</b></p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>With Rogers’ Rangers.</b></p>
-
-<p>Each 1 vol., large 12mo, cloth, decorative cover, illustrated, per
-volume . . . $1.00</p>
-
-<p>Four vols., boxed, per set . . . 4.00</p>
-
-<p>“The Woodranger Tales,” like the “Pathfinder Tales” of J. Fenimore
-Cooper, combine historical information relating to early pioneer days in
-America with interesting adventures in the backwoods. Although the same
-characters are continued throughout the series, each book is complete in
-itself, and, while based strictly on historical facts, is an interesting
-and exciting tale of adventure.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Beautiful Joe’s Paradise;</b> or, <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Island of Brotherly Love.</span> A sequel
-to “Beautiful Joe.” By Marshall Saunders, author of “Beautiful Joe,”
-“For His Country,” etc. With fifteen full-page plates and many
-decorations from drawings by Charles Livingston Bull.</p>
-
-<p>One vol., library 12mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>“Will be immensely enjoyed by the boys and girls who read
-it.”—<i>Pittsburg Gazette</i>.</p>
-
-<p>“Miss Saunders has put life, humor, action, and tenderness into her
-story. The book deserves to be a favorite.”—<i>Chicago Record-Herald</i>.</p>
-
-<p>“This book revives the spirit of ‘Beautiful Joe’ capitally. It is fairly
-riotous with fun, and as a whole is about as unusual as anything in the
-animal book line that has seen the light. It is a book for juveniles—old
-and young.”—<i>Philadelphia Item</i>.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>’Tilda Jane.</b> By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Marshall Saunders</span>, author of “Beautiful Joe,” etc.</p>
-
-<p>One vol., 12mo, fully illustrated, cloth, decorative cover . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>“No more amusing and attractive child’s story has appeared for a long
-time than this quaint and curious recital of the adventures of that
-pitiful and charming little runaway.</p>
-
-<p>“It is one of those exquisitely simple and truthful books that win and
-charm the reader, and I did not put it down until I had finished
-it—honest! And I am sure that every one, young or old, who reads will be
-proud and happy to make the acquaintance of the delicious waif.</p>
-
-<p>“I cannot think of any better book for children than this. I commend it
-unreservedly.”—<i>Cyrus Townsend Brady</i>.</p>
-
-<p style='line-height: 1em'>&#8203;</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Story of the Graveleys.</b> By <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Marshall Saunders</span>, author of
-“Beautiful Joe’s Paradise,” “’Tilda Jane,” etc.</p>
-
-<p>Library 12mo, cloth decorative, illustrated by E. B. Barry . . . $1.50</p>
-
-<p>Here we have the haps and mishaps, the trials and triumphs, of a
-delightful New England family, of whose devotion and sturdiness it will
-do the reader good to hear. From the kindly, serene-souled grandmother
-to the buoyant madcap, Berty, these Graveleys are folk of fibre and
-blood—genuine human beings.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;'>THE LITTLE COUSIN SERIES</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>The most delightful and interesting accounts possible of child-life in
-other lands, filled with quaint sayings, doings, and adventures.</p>
-
-<p>Each 1 vol., 12mo, decorative cover, cloth, with six full-page
-illustrations in color by L. J. Bridgman.</p>
-
-<p>Price per volume . . . $0.60</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='margin-top:1.0em;font-style:italic;'>By MARY HAZELTON WADE</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto'>
-<div style='display:inline-block; text-align:left;'>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little African Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Armenian Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Brown Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Cuban Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Eskimo Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little German Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Hawaiian Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Indian Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Irish Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Italian Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Japanese Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Jewish Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Mexican Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Norwegian Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Philippine Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Porto Rican Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Russian Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Siamese Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Swiss Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Turkish Cousin</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-style:italic;'>By BLANCHE McMANUS</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto'>
-<div style='display:inline-block; text-align:left;'>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little English Cousin</div>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little French Cousin</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-style:italic;'>By ELIZABETH ROBERTS MacDONALD</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto'>
-<div style='display:inline-block; text-align:left;'>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Canadian Cousin</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-style:italic;'>By ISAAC HEADLAND TAYLOR</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto'>
-<div style='display:inline-block; text-align:left;'>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Chinese Cousin</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-style:italic;'>By H. LEE M. PIKE</div>
-</div>
-<div style='text-align:center; margin-top:0.5em; margin-bottom:0.5em; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto'>
-<div style='display:inline-block; text-align:left;'>
-<div class='cbline'>Our Little Korean Cousin</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;'>ANIMAL TALES</div>
-<div>By Charles G. D. Roberts</div>
-<div style='font-size:0.8em;margin-top:1em;'>ILLUSTRATED BY</div>
-<div>Charles Livingston Bull</div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:1em;'>as follows:</div>
-<div><b>The Lord of the Air</b></div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:0.5em;'>(The Eagle)</div>
-<div><b>The King of the Mamozekel</b></div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:0.5em;'>(The Moose)</div>
-<div><b>The Watchers of the Camp-fire</b></div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:0.5em;'>(The Panther)</div>
-<div><b>The Haunter of the Pine Gloom</b></div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:0.5em;'>(The Lynx)</div>
-<div><b>The Return to the Trails</b></div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:0.5em;'>(The Bear)</div>
-<div><b>The Little People of the Sycamore</b></div>
-<div style='margin-bottom:1em;'>(The Raccoon)</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>Each 1 vol., small 12mo, cloth decorative, per volume, $0.50</p>
-
-<p>Realizing the great demand for the animal stories of Professor Roberts,
-one of the masters of nature writers, the publishers have selected six
-representative stories, to be issued separately, at a popular price.
-Each story is illustrated by Charles Livingston Bull, and is bound in a
-handsome decorative cover.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;'>COSY CORNER SERIES</div>
-</div>
-
-<p>It is the intention of the publishers that this series shall contain
-only the very highest and purest literature,—stories that shall not only
-appeal to the children themselves, but be appreciated by all those who
-feel with them in their joys and sorrows.</p>
-
-<p>The numerous illustrations in each book are by well-known artists, and
-each volume has a separate attractive cover design.</p>
-
-<p>Each, 1 vol., 16mo, cloth . . . $0.50</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:0.7em;'>By ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Little Colonel.</b> (Trade Mark.)</p>
-
-<p>The scene of this story is laid in Kentucky. Its heroine is a small
-girl, who is known as the Little Colonel, on account of her fancied
-resemblance to an old-school Southern gentleman, whose fine estate and
-old family are famous in the region. This old Colonel proves to be the
-grandfather of the child.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Giant Scissors.</b></p>
-
-<p>This is the story of Joyce and of her adventures in France,—the
-wonderful house with the gate of The Giant Scissors, Jules, her little
-playmate, Sister Denisa, the cruel Brossard, and her dear Aunt Kate.
-Joyce is a great friend of the Little Colonel, and in later volumes
-shares with her the delightful experiences of the “House Party” and the
-“Holidays.”</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Two Little Knights of Kentucky,</b> <span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Who Were the Little Colonel’s
-Neighbors.</span></p>
-
-<p>In this volume the Little Colonel returns to us like an old friend, but
-with added grace and charm. She is not, however, the central figure of
-the story, that place being taken by the “two little knights.”</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Cicely and Other Stories for Girls.</b></p>
-
-<p>The readers of Mrs. Johnston’s charming juveniles will be glad to learn
-of the issue of this volume for young people.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Aunt ’Liza’s Hero and Other Stories.</b></p>
-
-<p>A collection of six bright little stories, which will appeal to all boys
-and most girls.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Big Brother.</b></p>
-
-<p>A story of two boys. The devotion and care of Steven, himself a small
-boy, for his baby brother, is the theme of the simple tale.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Ole Mammy’s Torment.</b></p>
-
-<p>“Ole Mammy’s Torment” has been fitly called “a classic of Southern
-life.” It relates the haps and mishaps of a small negro lad, and tells
-how he was led by love and kindness to a knowledge of the right.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Story of Dago.</b></p>
-
-<p>In this story Mrs. Johnston relates the story of Dago, a pet monkey,
-owned jointly by two brothers. Dago tells his own story, and the account
-of his haps and mishaps is both interesting and amusing.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Quilt That Jack Built.</b></p>
-
-<p>A pleasant little story of a boy’s labor of love, and how it changed the
-course of his life many years after it was accomplished.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Flip’s Islands of Providence.</b></p>
-
-<p>A story of a boy’s life battle, his early defeat, and his final triumph,
-well worth the reading.</p>
-
-</div>
-
-<div class='section'>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:0.7em;'>By EDITH ROBINSON</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Little Puritan’s First Christmas.</b></p>
-
-<p>A story of Colonial times in Boston, telling how Christmas was invented
-by Betty Sewall, a typical child of the Puritans, aided by her brother
-Sam.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Little Daughter of Liberty.</b></p>
-
-<p>The author’s motive for this story is well indicated by a quotation from
-her introduction, as follows:</p>
-
-<p>“One ride is memorable in the early history of the American Revolution,
-the well-known ride of Paul Revere. Equally deserving of commendation is
-another ride,—the ride of Anthony Severn,—which was no less historic in
-its action or memorable in its consequences.”</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Loyal Little Maid.</b></p>
-
-<p>A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary days, in which the
-child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders important services to George
-Washington.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Little Puritan Rebel.</b></p>
-
-<p>This is an historical tale of a real girl, during the time when the
-gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massachusetts.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Little Puritan Pioneer.</b></p>
-
-<p>The scene of this story is laid in the Puritan settlement at
-Charlestown. The little girl heroine adds another to the list of
-favorites so well known to the young people.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Little Puritan Bound Girl.</b></p>
-
-<p>A story of Boston in Puritan days, which is of great interest to
-youthful readers.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Little Puritan Cavalier.</b></p>
-
-<p>The story of a “Little Puritan Cavalier” who tried with all his boyish
-enthusiasm to emulate the spirit and ideals of the dead Crusaders.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:0.7em;'>By MISS MULOCK</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Little Lame Prince.</b></p>
-
-<p>A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures by means of
-the magic gifts of his fairy godmother.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Adventures of a Brownie.</b></p>
-
-<p>The story of a household elf who torments the cook and gardener, but is
-a constant joy and delight to the children who love and trust him.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>His Little Mother.</b></p>
-
-<p>Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant source of
-delight to them, and “His Little Mother,” in this new and attractive
-dress, will be welcomed by hosts of youthful readers.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Little Sunshine’s Holiday.</b></p>
-
-<p>An attractive story of a summer outing. “Little Sunshine” is another of
-those beautiful child-characters for which Miss Mulock is so justly
-famous.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:0.7em;'>By JULIANA HORATIA EWING</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Jackanapes.</b></p>
-
-<p>A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite and touching
-story, dear alike to young and old.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Story of a Short Life.</b></p>
-
-<p>This beautiful and pathetic story will never grow old. It is a part of
-the world’s literature, and will never die.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Great Emergency.</b></p>
-
-<p>How a family of children prepared for a great emergency, and how they
-acted when the emergency came.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:0.7em;'>By OUIDA (Louise de la Ramée)</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>A Dog of Flanders: A Christmas Story.</b></p>
-
-<p>Too well and favorably known to require description.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Nurnberg Stove.</b></p>
-
-<p>This beautiful story has never before been published at a popular price.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:0.7em;'>By FRANCES MARGARET FOX</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Little Giant’s Neighbours.</b></p>
-
-<p>A charming nature story of a “little giant” whose neighbours were the
-creatures of the field and garden.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Farmer Brown and the Birds.</b></p>
-
-<p>A little story which teaches children that the birds are man’s best
-friends.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Betty of Old Mackinaw.</b></p>
-
-<p>A charming story of child-life, appealing especially to the little
-readers who like stories of “real people.”</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Mother Nature’s Little Ones.</b></p>
-
-<p>Curious little sketches describing the early lifetime, or “childhood,”
-of the little creatures out-of-doors.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>How Christmas Came to the Mulvaneys.</b></p>
-
-<p>A bright, lifelike little story of a family of poor children, with an
-unlimited capacity for fun and mischief. The wonderful
-never-to-be-forgotten Christmas that came to them is the climax of a
-series of exciting incidents.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:0.7em;'>By WILL ALLEN DROMGOOLE</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Farrier’s Dog and His Fellow.</b></p>
-
-<p>This story, written by the gifted young Southern woman, will appeal to
-all that is best in the natures of the many admirers of her graceful and
-piquant style.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Fortunes of the Fellow.</b></p>
-
-<p>Those who read and enjoyed the pathos and charm of “The Farrier’s Dog
-and His Fellow” will welcome the further account of the adventures of
-Baydaw and the Fellow at the home of the kindly smith.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>The Best of Friends.</b></p>
-
-<p>This continues the experiences of the Farrier’s dog and his Fellow,
-written in Miss Dromgoole’s well-known charming style.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Down in Dixie.</b></p>
-
-<p>A fascinating story for boys and girls, of a family of Alabama children
-who move to Florida and grow up in the South.</p>
-
-<div style='text-align:center; text-indent:0; margin-top:0; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:auto; margin-right:auto; '>
-<div style='font-size:1.2em;margin-top:2em;margin-bottom:0.7em;'>By MARIAN W. WILDMAN</div>
-</div>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Loyalty Island.</b></p>
-
-<p>An account of the adventures of four children and their pet dog on an
-island, and how they cleared their brother from the suspicion of
-dishonesty.</p>
-
-<p style='text-indent:0'><b>Theodore and Theodora.</b></p>
-
-<p>This is a story of the exploits and mishaps of two mischievous twins,
-and continues the adventures of the interesting group of children in
-“Loyalty Island.”</p>
-
-</div>
-
-
-
-
-
-
-
-<pre>
-
-
-
-
-
-End of Project Gutenberg's The Young Section-Hand, by Burton Egbert Stevenson
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