The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1884-09-04

I thought something had happened to the,
boy, sure. Suddenly 1t occurred to me that
It wal about time for the Montreal to be
and glanced at the little clock that hangs
there by the door. It lacked Just thirty
minutes Of train time. Well, thinks l,
there's no use looking for him now, he
won't be foolish enough to start back until
the express gets by, and eTen il he should
attemat it, the station agent at R would
hold him, for you know everything has to
get out Of the way of the regulars and give
then q clean track, as they always have
the right of way. Just then I heard q
shout and looking out the door saw the
telegraph operator running toward me
from his little box of an office down the
track there by the tavern.
II was waving something in his hand,
and my first thought was of Joe. Tom;
for Gods sake quick! p he exclaimed, as he
rushed up n thrust q message into my
hand. l snatched up my lantern inc read:
Joe is coming down the track wild.
Gave me the slip at R.. Stop him at
the junction or all Is lostl Jake -
"For an instant l was dazed, completely
stunned my worst fears were realized; but
| knew there was not a moment to lose,
and with the blood surging through my
veins, 1 seized my lanterns and rushed out
into the night.
Some of the boys were hurrying toward
sNO -@s w Wh8b IS bhC III
without giving them time to inquire 1
thrust the lanterns into the hands of two
Of them and shouted: Down the track
for your life, Jack, and stop the express;
n you, Ned, up as fast as you can and
stop Joe on his way down. They were
railroad men, always ready for emergen-
cies, and knew in a moment what was up;
80 they started off on a RUIZ in opposite di.
rections, while I sprang to the switch. The
express was due here at any minute, and
l alraQHv i Cnl1ld haar a far.awau uvhf9flo
down the track, while in the north my
practiced eye caught the reflection against
the dark sky of the blaze from the smoke
stack or hre-box of an engine which l knew
steam he was carrying. He was feeding
his own furnace and running a race with
death. If the Montreal could only get here
first, l thought, l could run her on to the
siding out of the way; but no, it was too
late. Joe was already in sight and coming
like the wind. I could see the lanterns
dance along the track as the men hurried
on. The express would surely stop, but
would Joe? That was the question. Would
he mind the signal or would he keep right
on and rush headlong into the waiting
train? Mol There was one alternative
left but ! shuddered to think of it. At the
last momen / could turn the switch
n throw him on to the siding. The
siding ends abruptly, with a deep ditch on
the farther side. To run on to it such q
rate of speed was death. All these thoughts
flashed through my mind on the instant.
o! GodI it was terrible. And must l do
iti Must I sacrifice my brave boy, m poor
Joe? Was there no help for it? Icried in
bitter agony. Down the track, the man
with the lantern had come to q standstill.
The express had seen the signal and was
coming up slowly. Up the track, the other
had taken his position directly in front of
the rushing, laundering locomotive that
was sweeping Town upon him, and was
l SWINGING his 1anfarn uin1ont1u GNd or.on VT
he could stop him. If Joe would only slow
down, / thought, perhaps Ned could lump
on and wrest the throttle from him, but it
was one chance in a thousand. Nearer and
nearer came the engine. The man in front
sprang quickly to one side. The critical
moment had arrived. I chung to the switch
with both hands and strained my eyes
peering through the gloom. Suddenly
there was a burst of steam, a roar, and a
shower of sparks. He had reversed the
signal n was slowing down. The inn
petus, however, still carried him along.
1.-THE man with the lantern dashed it to
one side and was chasing down the track
after him. Would he catch him? The en-
CINE had almost come to q standstill. A
few leaps more INT he would be in the cab.
OF how earnestly I prayed that he might
be successful. l could just distinguish his
form in the darkness. He had one foot on
the step now and was about to spring
4 ooOdt0S whS CdLuC q IuSu VI 6bcdIls
the engine jumped her length, and the man
was rolling in the ditch beside the road.
Joe had seen him and in his delirium had
thrown the throttle wide open and was
coming down the track at a terrible speed.
I could see the ponderous machine swing
from side to side in its headlong rush, and
my brain grew dizzy. 1 reeled and would
have fallen had not both hands been glued
to the switch in a vice-like grip. God be
merciful, I groaned. The men yelled to
me to run for my life, to get away from
there. Never! I would die there first.
They laid hold of me n would have
dragged me back but I fought them of. ]
was wild. 1 was desperate. I wanted to
die there with Joe, my Joe, my poor, brave
boy. 1t would nave been a mercy to me
then, but God in His Infinite wisdom had
ordered otherwise, and it was not to be.
81 scarcely know what happened. II
was quicker than words can tell. A grea
engine sprang past me OF to the siding
There was a sad, pale face in the cab. A
calm, sad face, but the brown ayes thai ]
loved shone with a strange, unearthly light
as he gazed down on me. One look, and
that was all; but, boy" and the old mans
voice dropped to a whisper, sit was q look
from the other world, a look that burned Sc
deep into my brain that were I to live g
Thousand years, I could never root it out
There was on terrific roar, an explosion
and all was over. I was knocked down
deafened and stunned. Kind hands pickec
me up and laid me here, and it was som.
time before l came to my senses. When ]
did, I got on to my feet with difficulty and
tottered feebly toward the wreck; I was
going to find Joe; but the boys stopped me
and led me gently away. They had founc
him pinned under a fragment of the fife,
box, torn and crushed beyond recognition.
and thought it best that 1 should
not see him. And perhaps they were
right. My poor old brain could not have
stood the strain upon it, n it were
better that 1 should remember him as l had
known him in the past; but it was terrible
ner and never to see my boy again-my
poor Joe. Pve never been the same man
since. The blow struck too hard. Young
fellows like you soon forget grief; o out
grow it, it simply ruffles the surface for a
moment like a ripple on the water, and i,
gone; but with men like me whose loves
are strong, death only makes them stronger
and the griefs che harder to BEAR.
"The boys felt pretty bad over Joe's sad
death, for he was q favorite with them all
went about with sorrowful faces for many
a day; but now comes the strangest part of
the whole story-the girl, up there, do you
know, was almost heart-broken when she
heard the news she cried and took ON so
they could hardly do anything with her. ]
knew it. She loved Joe all the time, and
now that he was gone she refused to be
comforted. 1t was too bad, and, poor girl,
I felt sorry for her. She suffered deeply
enough for her part in the matter, and in.
sisted on taking all the blame upon herself.
She's living up thereiyet, n comes down
to see me once in awhile and we hfve some
good visits together. She's takeL a great
interest in me and has done a great deal
toward frightening my lonely life. The
lads all Ill her, too, and they tell me that
Of all the graves up there on the hillside,
not one is more frequently visited or more
carefully watched over than Joe's.
"As for the lying scoundrel who was at
the bottom of the whole affair, she refused
to have anything to do with him, whatever,
after the accident, and he left the town.
| And it was well for him that he did. for