The Manitowoc tribune. [volume] (Manitowoc, Wis.) 1866-1878, 1867-05-02
THE ENGINEER'S sTORY.
"Going up tonight, Frank 2"

Howouickly man discovers the friend
" outlines of familiar face, even amidst
the confusion and tumult of crowded
railway depot! I had fancied myself I'M
| recognized, as leaned against the arch
ed brick doorway nearly shrouded in
shadow, watching the hurried anxious
faces that came and went, under the gilt
tering 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. Tempt
ed by more liberal offer, I had left my
post on the Lady Franklin and I'M
lertaken the supervision of large ma
chine shop; yet still retained pleasant
recollection Of my railway days, and to-
night, as / stood on the old familiar
ground. with the well known sights and
sounds around me, and the Lady" Gid
ing out of her place of shelter with bur
nished sides and flaming headlight, I
almost wished myself back again in nv
old post.
Eyes, [ thought I should. How's
the old Lady, Hold her own pretty
we'll ?''
Better than the new ones deal ~
said the conductor, enthusiastically view
ing the fiery-throated monster as she
pulled and groaned, ran backward few
steps, and then darted forward, in a man
ner entirely enigmatical to any but our
initiated selves
She looks as trim as city belle. ~
Yes; Mcleod keeps her well up.
say, Frank, McLeod's wife is going
through tonight"
1 knew he was looking closely at me,
scrutlnizlng my countenance; but man
aged with an effort to say, quite careless
ly and unconcernedy: us She ?''
Carew had known all about the one
disastrous love affair of my youth he
knew perfectly well that pretty Isabel
Martain had suddenly turned around and
married John Mcleod after encouraging
my suit for nearly a year; and he knew
also how sensitive [ still was on the sub
ject. [ 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
Mcleod was great favorite. But none
the less | had received great and en-
during shock.
''Poor little Isabel" said Carew, as he
reached up to turn down a long jet OF
gas that threatened to crack its glass
globe-"I rather think she has got pref
ty well sick of Mcleod by this time.
why? Does he ill-treat herr"
swell, [ don't suppose he either locks
her up on bread and water, or beats her ;,
but l do suppose that in every other paa-
ticular in which man can neglect or i'll
treat woman she is neglected and i'll
treated
''The old brute ~ I muttered between
my teeth.
''Well-I shall see you again" said
Carew, vanishing into the crowd with
sinuous ease and swiftness peculiar, l be-
lieve, to the race of conductors.
1t was tempestuous night in March
the wind bowling and shrieking like an
Infatuated demon, and the rain beating
stormy fugue on the depot roof, as / ad-
yanced to help woman in who carried
a heavy basket.
Excuse me, madam, but that is too
heavy for you to lift %
She looked up to thank me, but the
words died in her lips as her eyes met
mine. It was Isabel Mcleod, the lost
love whom I still cherished in my heart
of hearts, and the wife of the engineer on
the Night Express. I was the first to
recover my composure for this, be it
remembered, was the first 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 ?''
st makes no difference" said Isabel,
hurriedly. II am very much obliged to
you Mr.. Atwater.'
"How does it happen that you are GO
ing through such a stormy night?" [
asked, unmindful Of her evident anxiety
to be left alone.
Il do not know myself, except that
John wishes it.
Still I fingered. 'Is there anything
more l can do for you, Isabel ?''
There was no answer. l stopped my
head little lower.
Isabel, you are crying What has
grieved you? Isabel tell me what the
trouble is?''
"Nothing-nothing," she sobbed be-
hind her veil. 'sOnly-I had not seen
you in so long time, and it was like the
old days once more and-and am very
foolish. Please leave me now, won t
you?"
[ obeyed her, puzzled and indignant.
Carew was right. A happy wife does
not burst out crying when she meets the
friends of her girlhood; happy wife $
look is far, far different from that pale,
frightened face. felt strongly inclined
to go straight out to John Mcleod S
post on the Lady Franklin" and admin
lister summary thrashing then and there.
But | checked my rising choler, and
contented myself instead with leisurely
saunter through the train, now under full
motion. 1t was very pleasant to find
myself once again on the old familiar
ground. The prakemen all had a word
Of respectful greeting for me, the baggage
master insists on ensconcing me in the
single armchair which graced his car,
while he himself sat on pile of trunks
and asked more questions than could
have answered in a week; the Express
Agent issued from his den and demand
ed to know where / had been larking
all this time," and even the newsboys
grinned as they slid past and accosted
me with ''How dye do, Mr. Atwater 2"
But all at once our train slackened its
motion, moved more slowly still, and
came to dead stand-still | knew we
were an express that stopped but twice
before we reached our final destination,
and this lonely pine-barren was certainly
neither of our stopping places.
"What is it, Carew?' | asked, swing
ing myself on to the ground where the
conductor stood with his lantern in hand
looking under car.
Only journal box heated Confound
that Warren! what mady him report all
sound with such worn box as that :?
These patent boxes are continually getting
hot in the shortest runs, and ain fit for
expresses at all.
eve can cool it in fifteen minutes, sir, :"
said one of the brakemen, who had his
tow and water all ready for packing it
anew.