Knoxville journal. [volume] (Knoxville, Iowa) 1874-1986, 1874-06-18
An Hour OF Terror.

There arrived in the city yesterday
morning over the Grand Trunk Railway
a man named Patrick Macarthur, who
met with thrilling adventure about six
miles east of the junction Thursday night.
He is laboring man, and having no
money, and failing to get chance to
| work his passage down from Port Huron
on boat, he started to walk down on the
railroad track and had nearly completed
his journey when the adventure befell
him. He laid by during the heat of the
day Wednesday, and was walking in the
evening to make it up. While crossing
the tracks where a switch leads down
alongside the main track he got his foot
caught fast in frog" and his efforts
to extricate it were of no avail. He had
on stout boot and it fitted so closely
over the instep that he could not draw his
foot out In fact, the boot was wedged in
the "frog" so closely that the mans toes
were severely pinched. He pulled this
way and that, wrenched and twisted, but
the frog held the foot like wise.
At length he could hardly move his leg
for the pain, and he found that he must
either be run over by the next passing
train or make some one understand his
situation. He shouted himself hoarse,
but no one came. The nearest house was
half mile away, and If the farmer heard
the wild calls for help he gave them no
attention. After the man had been a
prisoner for upward of an hour he heard
the whistle of down freight txain. 1t
was yet long way off and he had little
time to think. He had a match box in
his pocket, papers in his bundle, and the
idea came to him to signal the train.
Tearing the paper off his bundle and get
ting at number Of letters, he rolled them
into heap, and for fear that the flame
would die out too suddenly he added two
flannel shirts from the bundle. The bum
die was then made fast to the end of his
walking stick, matches produced, and he
waited until the headlight of the locomo-
tive should appear up the track.
1t finally greeted his vision, looking
like bright white star as it glistened
afar up the track. The rumble of the
train grew louder, the star grew larger
and brighter. He struck his match. The
flame blazed up brightly, but as he moved
it toward the bundle little gust of wind
blew it out. Was there time yet? Up
the track he could hear the thunder Of a
hundred heavy wheels, and the great light
of the locomotive glared at him like the
merry eye OF some WHO DedSt. AuOlHeT
match, an instant Of fear and doubt, and
then the paper blazed up and curled over
and around the bundle and swayed right
and left with the night wind. He waved
the signal of fire back and forth, and just
when he was ready to believe that death
under the wheels was certain he heard the
whistle for brakes.
He could hear the wheels grinding and
grooming, the hiss of steam as the engineer
threw back his lever, and then the heavy
train came to stop with the great light
shining down upon him, paling his dying
signal. He was saved, but the engine
had only thirty feet more to go to crush
him. The fireman came forward, got a
crowbar and released him, and he was
taken back to the caboose. The train
men were very kind to him. and Yesterday
he found acquaintance here who arranged
for his board until he will be able to
work. His foot is badly swelled and very
tender, and it will be several days before
he will be able to walk.-Detroit Free
Press, May 80.