Milford chronicle., 1883-08-03

Next morning l went over, as usual
to the factory. Jim, the stoker, opened
the doors always, he had to be early tC
tend to the fires, which we banked
every night Iexpected to see Jim. but
was much surprised when I saw Hark.
ness. This time it was he who came uu
through the cellar door and I through
the other. As before, we met unex-
pectedly. Now it was my turn to be
surprised He was intensely pale, and
seemed much agitated. with a strong
effort of the will he strove to conceal his
strange manner. He endeavored to
speak calmly, and half succeeded.
"Bill, said he, 'Jim has tended to
the engine, it's all right; come outside
with me, 1 want to talk with you"
He turned to the cellar door and
shouted:
"Jim, come up, come up at once.
Run over to Mr.. Bent's private house
you know where that is-and tell him not
tosdiscount that bill to-day. Be quick p
eyes sir, coming" sung out Jim,
leisurely.
Suddenly he tore up the cellar steps.
His face was ten shades paler than
Harkness's, an expression of horror was
fixed on his features-an expression Of
agony and fear that shall never forget.
1t haunts me still. It will stay by me
till my dying day. Poor fellow, he's
gone, too, since then. Jim hardly
stopped in his wild flight, as he hoarsely
whispered, rather than cried:
Hundred and ten on the steam
gauge Safety valve clogged Run
for your lives ~
l took in the situation at once. Ter
rible the danger was. The old boiler
was registered at eighty pounds to the |
square inch, but we never dared run
higher than thirty. And a hundred and
ten! We were standing directly over it,
and while hesitated, the pressure must
be steadily rising. It flashed upon me
that there might be no more danger in
down and pressing the safety
valve than in running away, and in
'pite of the awful panic, had predju-
lice against running.
I looked down from the doorway upon
he trembling, painting. struggling steam
lemon beneath. The safety valve ap-
'arently was in plain sight.
From the end of the lever hung several
luge links of chain.
don't think I'm coward usually.
t least, 1 know I am not. But that {
violence of villainy took me all aback. 8
staggered and chung feebly to the
ntel for support. The words seemed !
breed out of me, and not uttered with {
ly volition:
"You scoundrel. You'd steal your
lsurance, would you?" t
A sudden vindictive push sent me b
eadlong. As fell heard demoniac ]
ugh. 4
So Peach, if you want to I" s.
And the door swung to with click Of b
lie spriug lock. 81
At the foot of the steps an open trap a
e sub-cellar hatch. The distance was Il !,
great that had time to notice all this. q
'ould it hurt me much when L struck =? ei
'ould it kill me outright? el
And that was all. IL
u'
When l came to, 1 found myself in
IL remembered room. Bessie, my
'ssie now, hung tenderly over me, W
iiting for the light of recognition to - -
pear in my fevered eyes. a,
All was soon told The boiler must le
We burst the very instant I struck. an
lrkness was killed by a flying piece of ha
ichinery; the would-be murderer had Io
changed places with his victim, for I, di
ange as it may seem was dug out of OF
= ruins alive, and got off with only a or
oxen arm. God forgive him. st
Bessie insists that if it hadn't been for av
, accident should never have "spoken sc,
t. So, after all, it was blessing in de
guise. fiv