Dodge City times. [volume] (Dodge City, Kan.) 1876-1892, 1883-09-20
A ife.Saying Match.

A ufe.Saving Match.
"Well, SIR" he begins, ''there's not
much in it.. It's nigh fifteen years ago.
There wOr none O. them block telegrafs
and Westin'h house brakes, and Pullman
cars on the cut then. 1t wor just such
a dirty night as this, when the wind wor
up and would ma be said. We had a
pitch in just at the edge of viaduct at
the Junction. The shuntin' ingin wor
a cOllectin' her wagons; and she got
astride on the facin' -p'ints just as the
down slow passenger train came a
kockin' into, her and blockin' both
roads. Some said it wor all on account
of the signals. Others made it out as
it wor cos the lockin'-bar Wor out of
order. Any how the Government In
spector could not clear it up, although
there were any amount, of Engineers and
officials down wi plans and sections.
We wor all confusion Luckily none
was much the worse Some was shook
bit, and an ovid woman died Of the
fright. live close to- the line, and,
hearing the crash, ruined up to see
what was amiss. l wor inst goin' to
help to clear up one of the roads when
something quite sudden like occurred
to my moind.
II asked Job Croft: Is the '.Scotch-
man" gone up yet?'''
No. said somebody in the dark.
Il think il was the station-master. 1
had a red lamp in my hands, and off l
started to stop her.. Have you ever seen
her 60 across the viaduct, sir? She
comes down the bank at sixty miles an
hour every night of her life. The in
cline falls one in seventy, so you may
guess she's not wastin' time. She just
slips. down with her fifteen coaches like
well-oiled ightin'. Well, as Iwor a
sayin', runs over the viaduct like a
mailman, makes my way through the
tunnel, and when I got into the cuttin'
the wind brought me the roar of the
through Drabble Dale Station, mile or
more Of. The wind it came through
The cuttin' till had fairly to how'd my
sen on the rails to keep. mysen from be-
ing a blown away.
1t wor then my lamp went out. 1t
wor blown clean out, and in no time the
Scotchman' would be a whippin' down
the hill like havalanche of flame. |
searched my pockets for match. In my
coat-pocketS never one, although |
generally carries box, and have done
ever since that fearful night. At last
in my waistcoat-pocket / found one
match-one match, and the wind
BLOWN through the cuttin' as though
funnel. I'm not saint. sir. but l
knOwed that the lives in that thunder
in express depended upon that one
match. Ii she went into the fouled
line she'd drop over the viaduct into
the river The perspiration covered me
with cold sweat. could hear my heart
a thumpin.' For a moment l felt a
dizzy like; then [ pulled mysen togeth-
er and throwed my whole life into one
short prayer
at wOr all done in moment. /
felt then in the cuttin' for crevice,
and, thank God! there wor. a small
openin' where the fogmen shelter when
they are signalin' the trains on thick
nights. crept in this ere place. 1
opens my lamp and put the match in
side the frame. Itrembled lest it should
fail. But somehow wor strangely cool
and steady about the hands. 1 struck
and huddled around the match. The
wick caught the fire, ard wor just in
time to jump from the hole into the six
foot and wave the red signal. to the
driver of the 'Scotchman' as she rushed
past faster than the-wind. She wor
agoins! But the driver wor on the look
out, and had seen the red light. All
could see wor the tall lamps on the rear
guards van; but could ear the danger
whistle for all the brakes to be clapped
on. and l card 'em a grindin' on the
metals, and there wer- q gratin' that
told me he wor reversin' the ingine."
''Stopped?"
Eyes, sir, just as she got on the edge
of the viaduct. He had her buffer
plank not three yards from where the
line wor a fouled.
THE sweat poured down my face as
1 made for the junction again, but
knowed I'd saved the train, and
prayed again-not in words, but with
sort of choking gratitude that came up
in big burning Jumps in my throat.
Some of my, mates gave me this ere
watch and chain, and was shifted up
by the superintendent to a CANCERS
job, but dunna take SO much credit to
mysen, for Providence lit the match
that night in the storm. Casseps Mug
Gzine.
S--