The Rock Island Argus. (Rock Island, Ill.) 1877-1885, 1885-07-02
A PHANTOM EuaInRER

cred in the roundhouse. Jim's a veteran
OF the rail. He was seventy two last
week, and has pulled throttle as MANY
times as any living man. How he used
to make old Six walk is the common ex>
preston whenever Jim's name is men,
TONED in crowd. He loved the engine
better than anything in the world, and II
nearly broke his honest heart to give Ter
up. Jim never had an accident, but that
wasn't his fault, he always said. II
wasn't me that missed EN-. 1t wuz ole
Six. She wouldn't even go into the back
end OF tram o the hlackest night an
all light out. You couldn't drive her.
Couldn't git 'er nigh 'er broken bridge or
trestle or washout."
Jim never got any further with his ex-
PLANTATION until that night at the round
house. when some of the boys begged him
to tell them why old Six wouldn't get in,
to trouble.
"As I've quit the track, boys he be
gan, i don't min tellin' yer Jest why.
Reckon y all know took to firm with
Dave Griffin, an all know about or en-
CINE | learnt from him. He was like er
father to me, an when he died | lost the
best frien' lone boy ever had Lost, did
| say? No, not lost, but"
He looked out into the night, and the
little audience waited for him to finish
the sentence, But he went on anew.
81 worked mighty hard an faithful
but wuzn ole man when they gimme
| the best engine on the road. You've all
heard of the ole Six? She's scrap iron ten
years ago. | had run along for er good
many years 'thout er accident of any sort,
an--ye all know how I is-had got sor
ter careless, like. l knowed every rail an
crosstie in the road, to say nothin' nf
bridges an trestles an culverts, an could
shet my eyes an tell where | wuz by the
way ole Six carried herself Well, one
night-it was, the darkest night ever
saw; the moon an stars seemed as if they d
gone out for good, an the black, thick
clouds set so close to the earth that yer
could feel 'em as yer piowed through EN-.
Headlights didn't amount to much them
days. nohow, but that night mine didn't
do no good at all. Sump'n must've black
ened the glass, for | couldn't see ten steps
ahead of the pilot, an what dim ligh'
Their wus flashed sickly against er soho
front Nv of cloud. By an by it began tC
rain. The water came down like the bot
tom had fell out, an in less'n five min
utes | could hear it roarin' in Their bitches
alongside the track The noise it made
tearin' through the culverts drowned thu
rattle er the train. | hope I'll never Sc,
such another flood Lightnin' every min
ute an less split the darkness on all sides
an the thunder doomed 'mong the cloud
as if the ole earth was exploding from tn
inside fires. AT every boom the clou.
gave down more rain, an old Six trem
bed as if she was skeered to 90 ahead.
"On we went; up hill an down hill
forty miles an hour. an no stops fur wa,
stations. We climbed the summit at Pin
sons. an flashed by like a skeered deer
on down the long grade toward Dyke
Run, an the big trestle. | knowed ever
g stick o timber in that trestle. | knoWe
= it was the best on the road. an | WASH
Altered to go over it er mile er minute
an didn't slack up. leaned back in m
seat an listened TO the ragin' storm out
|, side My fireman had opened the furnac
5 door an stepped back INTO the tender FL
some coal when Suddenly n big, whit
o. headed man got between me an the TT
light o the furnace fire an leaned owe
toward the front o the cab. One Ion!
arm reached out, an takin hold o Tn
throttle shut off the steam. The othe
pulled three long blasts of the whist,
the signal for breaks, an then before
could say word the man caught the lev
, or in both hands an reversed her clea
back to the lowest notch. The same Ion
arm again reached the throttle an pulle
! her wide open. Old SKIS drivers bega
to spin around backward an the train bt
gan to slack up. Jumpin' up, ! made
lunge at the old man, but instead of hi
d tin him | fell flat across the cab. | 90
d up an, saw him still standin' there lookil
out ahead | throwed my arms aroun
n him to pull him away. but they passe
7 right through his body an fell at my silt
! He turned an looked at me, an | saw
n was Dave-Dave Griffin, come back frol
h the grave
when my senses came back the trai
/ was standin' still. an Dave was gone.
knowed there was somethin' wroT
ahead, so got out an walked down Il
road A hundred feet away | came to
great gap in the track-the big trestle w
gone. The creek was growed to mig
ty river, roarin' an rushin' an gurgli
over the piles Boys, ] didn't feel skeer'
then, but somehow / couldn't stan nj
My legs felt weak and give way und
=. me, an ! set down on the track in Il
ry pourin rain II didn't 90 to sleep,
ty couldn't ha' done that, but my firem'
to said he had to shake me purity hard to g
me up No, boys. didn't run ole 81.
in 1t was Dave an me together that's alwa
to pulled her through.