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

| hang otst behind, and cant yoa tsii Wien
| we are gaining OF losing tinef Oups for
| all, Willy oa uF Will you not dc your Less
TO gam tliiie and keep ahead Ut tile ta'sas'
Ming 2" , u,
lenly.
"Very well, here is a substitute that
! will Make room for Mr.. Atwater
He can do as he pleases," said Macleod,
stiffly, rising to yield me his place. II wash
my hands of the whole thing, now and here
| after. Bear witness, CareW and Atwater,
that [ protest against this rash and fool
| hardy thing!" |
Not a word more did he utter, but sat
down silent and rigid as "a galvanized
| corpse, watching me-with his deep set eyes
| until the very CONSCIOUSNESS of that steady
surveillance made me uncomfortable. I'm
| comfortable, but not nervous. / never in
| the whole course of my life, was more en-
tirely in possession of all my faculties, or
| more composed than at that moment, as
/ mechanically examined screws and valves
and satisfied myself as to the correctness
of every detail. All was right Macleod
was good engineer if not an agreeable
companion. ss
"Now then, my Lady" said to my
self, we'll see if you keep up all your old
| pluck! !" a 900
turned to give some directions to the
! firemen, and when | was about to sit down
| Macleod seized my arm
Not there! tell you not there -
| And why not there?" | demanded,
| with momentary fear crossing my mind
that the man was deranged. r,. +
Because another already occupies the
| place." he cried in the shrill, shrieking
voice he often used when much excited
Death is passenger on this train with
us, and death sits there CHASTITY and still
No, know you don't see him; but second
sight IS gilt III the family come from,
| and see him. l would have warded off
| his fell errand, but you--you and that
| cursed Carew wouldn't let me. Now 90
your own mad, reckless way, and see where
| it will bring you. And remember, Frank
Atwater, that it's not your own worthless
| Life that hangs in the balance but the lives
| of all who travel on this train"
! Argument with man in this excited
| frame OF mind would have been but folly.
| l sat down without word, smiling in spite
| of myself, and resumed my intent super
vision of the engine while Macleod sat
silently by with folded arms.
Never did the "Lady Franklin % show
finer mettle than on that night The ma
| chinery was, perfect, the crank well oiled,
the heat steady and intense The fireman
| worked in concert with me, fully compre-
hending smy intentions, and the Lady "
rushed over thessrails like a living, breath
| ing thing. t ..f# aa 4
allow are you getting along, Frank"
! asked Ca1ew, coming forward with his Ian
tern, as we left our first stopping-place.
| !" Oh, splendidly !" answered. --
u have just telegraphed back to Seld-
| town; we have gained five minutes on the
lightning already"
al thought we were gaining" I replied,
| quietly. But was very much excited. The
| idea of pressing this magnificent piece OF
| machinery to her utmost speed of GLIDING
| the lightning pursuit of the express train
| which followed-pursued us; of identity
| ing my own nerves and sinews with the
iron and steel Of the "Lady Franklin, "
was exciting in itself; nor had McLeod's
wild talk been entirely without effect on
me. was not superstitious; but we all
know the mesmeric effect which the strong
belief OF another person, however ill-found.
ed that belief may be, invariably exerts on
the mind. That Macleod firmly believed
| that he and l were not alone in this little
glazed compartment entertained no doubt
and his horror reacted upon me, baseless
though knew it to be-
>" wish we were at 3 -" / thought
| leaning my elbows on the woodwork and
| gazing out into the stormy night, athwart
| which our huge headlight threw stream
ing banner of lurid light as it rushed
along. At that instant my shoulder was
| touched.
"Atwater," said Macleod, in husky,
unnatural voice, Z" if you have any pray
ers to say, say them now. Death is very
| near to you p
A cold chill ran through me-
| am always prepared to meet death, "I
! answered, trying to speak composedly
death? yes, but not death by suicide.
| You will be a suicide, Francis Atwater
nor do | wish longer to interfere. The
| hour of grace is past"
| !" Oh, Macleod! don't talk nonsense.
liquor off" t-'
Liquor? You think I'm drunk You
think I'm mad. You take me to be super
stitious. | heard you'll heard you talking
to her. You best keep clear of her, young
man, You see this, eh? ~ and he drew a
huge knife from his BOSOM.
Yes, see it," I answered." laying my
hand on the brake, as if could use it for
defense i '1fs'a5s =
"With this could have silenced you long
ago, and saved the victims you are sacri-
ficing. But prefer not. What is to be is
to be; as well might / attempt to; stem the
current of the Mississippi with a straw as
to check the tide Of Fate with my feeble
hand! Only | would warn you to say a
word or two of prayer before the fatal mo-
ment comes" -49i @al s@At
My heart seemed to stand still with
deadly terror Was / indeed shut up in
this narrow spot with a maniac? Would
/ be murdered before could call for help ?
But | remembered that in GOODNESS and
presence of mind lay my only chance OF
safety, and resolved to abide the result.
We were now putting on brakes for our
second and last. stopping place ere we
reached b. Macleod sprang out up
on the platform as we stopped, and went
into BARRON adjoining the station
went back and spoke to one of the brake
men, an athletic Maine man, with thewa
and sineWs of iron, and the stature of a
giant e ai 81 a91
"Jim," Isaid in low tone of voice
his name was Jim Torrance-"I want YOU
to keep your eye on Macleod, and come on
the locomotive with me- He talks and
acts very strangely to night; and he may
attempt some violence"
q saw him draw out that outlandish
knife o. his, sir, a minute or two ago. said
jim, shrewdly. Icould easily jerk it away
L >