Dodgeville chronicle. [volume] (Dodgeville, Wis.) 1862-current, 1867-04-18
THE ENGINEER,S STORY

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Going up tonight, Frank?"
How quickly man discovers the friend
ly outlines of familiar face. even amidst
the confusion and tunlult of crowded
p railway depot! l had fancied myself un-
recognized as | leaned against the arched
brick doorway nearly shrouded in shadow,
watching the hurried, anxious faces that
came and went, under the glittering gas
lights; yet here was Carew's hand on my
shoulder, and Carew's genial countenance
looking into mine. We had been close
friends and allies two years ago, when he
had been conductor and was engineer on
the same train. Tempted by more lib
g eral offer, had left my post ON the "Lady
Franklin" and undertaken the supervision
OF large machine shop; yet | still re-
n tanned apleasant recollection of my railway
days, and tonight, as l stood on the old
= familiar ground, with the well known
sights and sounds around me, and the
Lady" gliding out of her place of shelter
with FURNISHED sides and flaming headlight,
4 almost wished myself back again in my
old post.
Yes, thought 1 should. How's the
old 'Lady'? Hold her own pretty well?"
a's Better than the new ones a deal p said
the conductor. enthusiastically viewing the
fiery-throated monster as she pulled and
g groaned ran backward few steps, and
then darted forward, in manner entirely
enigmatical to any but our initiated selves
"She looks as trim as city belle.
Yes; Mcleod keep her well up I say,
Frank, McLeod's wife is going through to-
night"
| knew he was looking closely at me,
scrutlnlzlng my countenance; but | man
aged with an effort to say, quite carelessly
and unconcernedly: ais she ?"
Carew had known all about the one dis
astrous love affair of my youth; he knew
perfectly well that pretty Isabel Martin
had suddenly turned round and married
John Macleod after encouraging my suit
for nearly a year and he knew also how
sensitive | still was ON the subject. had
not blamed Isabel SO much as some might
have been disposed to do; she was very
young, and entirely under the influence of
her father, with whom Macleod was q
great favorite. But none the less had re-
celved great and enduring shock.
s,4"Poor little Isabel" said Carew, as he
reached up to turn down long let of GAS
that threatened to crack its glass globe
Il rather think she has got pretty well sick
of Macleod by this time"
Why? Does he ill-treat herr"
. Well, | don't suppose he either locks
her up on bread and water, or beats her ;
but do suppose that in every other par
ticular in which a man can neglect or ill
treat woman she is neglected and i'll
treated"
"The old brute!" | muttered between
my teeth.
~ WE'LL shall see you again." said
Carew, vanishing into the crowd with
sinuous case and swiftness peculiar, I be-
IleVe. to the race of conductors
1t was tempestuous night in March,
the wind bowling and shrieking like an
Infatuated demon, and the rain beating q
stormy flgue on the depot roof as | adj
vanced to help woman in who carried
heavy basket. IA
Excuse me, madam, but that is too
heavy for you to liftn'
She looked up to thank me, but the words
died on her lips as her eyes met mine. 1t
was Isabel Macleod, the lost love whom
still cherished in my heart of hearts, and the
wife OF the engineeron the Night Express.
L was the first to recover my composure ;
for this, be it remember cd, was the first
"a time we had met since her marriage, more
than three years before
Here is a vacant seat, Isabel; do you
wish to sit so near the stove?n
1T makes no difference" said Isabel,
hurrledly. 81 am very much obliged to
you, Mr.. Atwater"
T (" How does it happen that you are going
through such a stormy night?n | asked,
unmindfnl of her evident anxiety to be left
81 do not know myself, except that j ohm
wishes it," -, :
Still fingered. as there anything more
Z can do for you, Isabel ?" ~
There was no answer. I stopped my
Isabel, you are crying! What has
grieved you? Isabel tell me what the
b. trouble 2" $50 ~
Nothing-nothing, she sobbed behind
her veil "Only-I had not seen you in so
long a time, and 1t was like the old days
once morei and-4and I am very foolish.
! Please leave me now, won't you p,
obeyed her, puzzled and indignant.
Carew was right. A happy wife does not
burst out crying when she meets the friends
OF her girlhood; a happy wife's look is far,
far different from that pale, frightened face.
felt strongly Inclined to go straight out to
John MacLeods post on the Lady Frank
linz and administer a summary thrashing
then and there. ~
But checked my rising choler. and con-
tented myself instead with a leisurly saunt-
er through the train, now under full mo-
tion 1t was very pleasant to find myself
once again on the old familiar ground. The
brakenen all had a word of respectful
greeting for me, the baggage master in
sisted on ensconeing me in the single arm
chair which graced his car, while he him
self sat ON a pile of trunk sand asked more
questions than could have answered in a
week; the Express Agent issued from his
= den and demanded to know !" where had
q been larking allthis time, land even the
go newsboys grinned as they slid past and
accosted me with "How dye do, Mr.. At
-water?"
But all at once our train slackened its