The evening telegraph. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1864-1918, 1868-09-01

me and signal to the engineers; for I well knew
that II Ii. should become aware oil my perilous
situation he woald stop the train and lake me
on. MY fears were groundless. Tue strong
glare OF the headlight directly over Ine made my
in front.
passing the lat crossing with a rush and a
roar, we sped on through the suburbs, and in
the open country. The city lights disappeared
one by one in the distance aud we were taitlv
On our way. 1t was wild night. The light of
the moon struggled with difficulty throush the
dark clouds which were driven before strong
wind from the southwest. Now a1d then an
opening would lllumne the landscape with a
sudden burst of silgery light, to be imm edately
followed by almost total darkness as the heavy
camuli rolled no IN masses of inky blackness
The cone OF light from the dazzling lens above
me would then cut the darkness in its on ward
rush with startling clearness. Now flashing M
The rocky sides OF some mountain gorge, llu.
mlnalDg rock, tree and shrub with almost day.
light distDctness; auon losing itself in the sur
rounding darkness as we emerged iuto the omen
country beyond; then shooting along the rails
ahead, making them look like glistening threads
until they disappeared in the darkness beyond.
mile alter mile we sped along. | mad become
somewhat used to my strange position, but it
required c0nstant attention 10 prevent my feet
from slipping from the lower bar of the frame
on which was standing. AT best / had but
partial toolhold, ana the constant jar of the
engine on the short curves would almost throw
me OIL. In passing through the 8. mountains
the road was very rough and crooked. Tue
then sudden side lurch IN its seemingly mad
effort to plunge into the black chasms which
yaWDed on every side. .. In one of these sudden
movements the buckle of my strap broke, and |
was only saved from instant death by we1ging
my hands between the bars of the cow-catcher
and clasping them underneath. l must hold on
now tor dear life. Once / opened my mouth to
scream, in the hope tha. II. would hear me. A
second thought convinced me OF the utter use
lessness OF attempting 10 make my voice heard
at that distance above the roar of the engine.
Even when stending on the 'ioJt board it was
with difficulty that we could hear each other.
My only hope was that my stfening fingers
would hold on for the remaining ten miles. An
occasional glimpse of the country showed me
that we had gone two-thirds Of our distance,
and had also most fortunately passed the
rought st points. Twenty minutes more and
should be saie.
I'VE have now passed the mountains, and the
road became straig hter and smoother. As we
emerged from the tunnel on the spur OF the
mountains caught signt, far down the line, Of
the headlight OF the G. express. The road is
there perfectly straight for three miles, and
had an unobsructed view. Brighter and brighter
grew the headlight till it seemed TO glare with
demoniac ferceness. Although l kneg v there
was no danger, yet the sight of that pOnderous
creature numbering toWards me, sent through
me momentary thrill of horror, and involun-
tarlly clung closer and closed my eyes as the
train rushed past A long whistle from our own
engine announced our approach to LIS, and
assure you 1t was music 10 my ears. could not
have held on fifteen minutes longer. As the
train stopped, l unclasped my Denumbed fingers
and stepped TO the ground, but could not walk
three steps, my legs were so stiff from being so
long in cramped position. AT last l reached
the side OF the road aud sat do Sn. The moon
had long been obscured, and a few heavy drops
betokened the coming storm.n