The Vancouver independent. (Vancouver, W.T. [Wash.]) 1875-1910, 1876-09-09

East Milestone, on the Pennsylvania
road. and the telegraph operator, almost
the only occupant, is taking dispatches.
Clickety-click sings the electrical instru-
ment. and all the messages tell OF eX-
citement all along the front at the Bound
Brook crossing. Both sides are face to
face in the most hostile attitude. The
men of the Pennsylvania company, few
in number ut the point OF attack, stand
strictly on the defensive, and the Bound
Brook and Delaware men watch for an
opening for an offensive movement.
Clickety- click still clicks the instru
ment, and it says there is one hundred
Italians ut the crossing, armed to the
teeth with knives and revolvers. and
that the road is thronged with Irishmen,
who carry stones and shillelahs. Then
there is another dispatch, und this calls
for instant action, for it says that the
Bound Brook men are tearing up the
rails, and that they have partially fixed
the frog in position. In few hours
they will be running their trains right
across the track of Pennsylvania road,
unless something is done at once.
"That something will be done, I'm
thinking" said the operator. and ere he
had hardly finished the sentence the
clicking is heard again; and the mes
sage that it brings has the sharp and de-
cisive ring of authority. The words are
from the superintendent of the Penn
sylvania company, and they are:
"Send George Ellis ut once with
1885," and tell him to break down OBJ
structions on the road and drive the en-
CINE into the frog"
George Ellis, stout, swarthy, dark
eyed and dark-bearded, is pacing mp
and down the dusky room. His engine
is at the door. Outside the rain is fall
ing drearily, and the night is pitch
dark. He is one of the oldest and most
trusty drivers ON the road, and to him
has been designed desperate and per-
ilous undertaking; but he does not
finch. He buttons his smutty blouse
to his chin, steps upon the platform of
the engine, and pulls the lever. The
steam goes kissing and whizzing through
the iron limbs, the wheels begin to
move, and then with shrek the great
thirty-ton monster springs forward,
snorting into the darkness. The road
is all clear thirteen miles to Hopewell,
and the locomotive thunders on, burn
and meadows. BY the side of Ellis
stands his brave fireman, Sam Granger,
and both peer ahead upon the uncer-
tain path, dimly illuminated by the
headlight. Everywhere is impenetra-
BILE darkness, save the great vista ahead,
over which dance spectral and bewilder-
ing shapes. Still the two men in the
flying monster look silently ahead and
still the engine thunders on. The rain
drops plash and sizz npOn the heated
boiler and stand upon the panes of the
windows. The wet rails glisten in the
light, and seem long, cleaning serpents
Of steel that curl and trail away into the
darkness. But Ellis and Granger do
not mind them or the beating rain, for
they are looking out for breakers and
Italians armed to the teeth. At length
the speed is gradually reduced for the
neighborhood of the enemy is nearly
reached. and there is light shining
ahead. At the depot of the little ham
let OF Hopewell, not more than three
quarters OF a mile from the frog. Ellis
checks the locomotive, for it is time to
be cautious and wakeful. A man run
ming to him through the frog says ex-
cltedly. "There are distractions inst
below, and the enemy are guarding the
ditches.''
The man gets upon the engine box
and AGAIN they are off into the rain and
fog. Not so fast as before. however, for
there are men with clubs on either side,
and what they have done to the track
can only be guessed at. First. glow
ing red light.tossing and whirling in the
air, is seen. and the headlight CLEANS
upon the dark outlines of Il man; but
there is no stop tonight for the signal
OF warming, for it is in the hands of
foes as ruse. Then another light, red
and glowing, CLEANS from the track. 1t
Is silent command for an instant halt.
Bill Ellis knows what it means, and
with dash the engine is upon it. and
the lantern is sent whirling in thou
sand pieces in every direction. Slower
and slower the engine runs, for the OBJ
structions are near The engineer and
fireman watch intently. Suddenly a
glimmering and Pickering that is not
the reflection upon the road. dark wall
rises up rs the light flashes down the
rails, there is crash, the noise is crack
ing timbers, and the air is full of fying
ties and rails. Old "33G" losses them
off her PROV as though they were wheat
straws, and onward PUSHES straight for
the frog, and the expected crash. In an
instant, almost, another black pile grows
out Of the road; the engine is upon
them; there isanothcr cracking of wood,
and the kissing engine blowing showers
L..