The Superior times. [volume] (Superior, Wis.) 1870-1912, 1886-04-10

| nails between the whistles plaintive
voice and the ghostly light became
such matter of course that when one
night, about three months after we
missed it, Steve and / looked at each
other instinctively. He had grown
pale, and if my face reflected my feel
ings, it was as white as the driving
snow around. 1t was like the darken-
ing of safety light at the entrance OF
a block, for we'd had good luck since
it came, but its absence did not give
the came right to stop. Though its
first coming had surprised us, its
equally sudden disappearance, queerly
enough, seemed ominous and strangely
affected us both. Never shall I forget
that Christmas eve, seven years ago
tonight. We had been delayed by
hot box on the up grade, and when we
stopped to doctor it the wind, par
italy drowned by the familiar noise
of the train, shrieked like an enormous
chorus OF trained ghosts among the
trees and rocks around, and it cut like
q knife to the very bone. Steve had
determined to make up a half hour at
least on the down grade, and word had
been sent back to the boys to stand
ready for the brakes, for the West
inghouse was not then what it is now,
and it was the custom on specially
fast runs to take double precautions.
AS we entered the cut the big ten
wheeler was trembling beneath us in
its mighty burst OF speed, and her
pulsations were like what those of
giants heart might have been in
supreme effort. She fairly seemed to
try to leap over the glare which her
own headlight cast forward.
'Have you ever heard the call for
quick brakes when it was also the
death cry Of the brave man who
sounded it, as, alas it often is? Ifnot,
pray God that you never may. That
night it came upon me suddenly, just
as, to hide my dismay at the disappear
ance of The Specter Signal [ had
opened the doors to fire up. The light OF
the furnace revealed Steve in the act OF
giving her air and sand and reversing.
II there ever was picture OF a hero
he presented it at that instant. No
thought OF jumping for life there,
though / now know he believed the
train in the very java OF disaster. His
example encouraged me to stand to
my post, as the great engine first strug-
gled forward like a race-horse abrupt
ly checked, then trembled, then stood
still. Steve told me, and me alone,
afterward what he had first seen, for
he never speaks of that night.
"'The rest saw myself, for when we
hurried back we found q woman, thin
ly clad, lying senseless in the lce-cov
cred ditch by the track. By her side
lay lantern of pretty blue glass, ex-
tinguished in her fall. Steve remem-
bered it as a gift to Julia Howard in
the old counting days. Round it, In
signal, had been wrapped a crimson
bonnet-rlbbon. 1t was the unwanted
and startling purple light thus made
that Steve had seen as Julia feebly
waved it so closely over the track, and
in such unfamiliar fashion, that to
Steve's already excited mind it meant
the instant destruction of the train If
not checked before the spot was
reached.
"'The trestle,' Julia family moaned,
as we lifted her into the baggage-car
with hands that might have been
softer, but could not have been ten
derer, and brakemen sent forward
found 'Crawfish Trestle' fallen into the
swollen stream 200 feet below. The
woman, death-strlcken with exposure
and cold, revived long enough to tell
her story. How, she, with II father,
after many wanderings, LIVED on an
estate near by, of which Mr.. Howard
oh 10
before, In a little house concealed from
the track by the pines. How remem-
bering Steve's whistle, she had nightly
awaited and answered it with all the
old times in her heart. How her faith
er being that night at neighborhood
Christmas gathering, she, hearing the
violence OF the storm and the roar OF
the mountain torrent, had feared for
the safety Of the trestle mile and a
half beyond, had hurriedly dressed,
and, struggling to the creek through
the sleet and snow, had found her
presentiment true.
"There was no making up o. time
across that angry stream that night,
and poor Steve knelt at the improvised
couch on which lay the only woman
| for whom he had ever cared since his
mother died, and wet the little white
| hands, which he in vain tried to rub
to warmth, with big tears which found
their mates in every eye in the car.
Aud the mountain wind walled a wild
requiem without as the lovers were
united yet parted forever, for Julia s
soul went out upon the storm before
the Christmas morning dawned. Too
late she had known the priceless gift Of
Tered her by the great manly heart she
had broken, but bravely and willingly
had she made her atonement.
''There is a lonely moss-covered
| grave, homegrown in summer, on the
mountain side in Chester Cut, and be
sure the marble cross at its head is
holly-wreathed tonight. Steve still
whistles as he passes the spot, but
there is no answering signal unless he
sees it in the blue vault above. On
stormy nights the old shiver comes
over me as my train thunders by, but
Steve feels that for his engine, angel
guarded, that long down-grade is the
safest on toe road.
"Iushl Here comes Steve to see me-
off, and wish me Merry Christmas
for the sake OF the old times. Do you
see that little blue lantern that he car
ries so carefully? That's The Specte1
Signal"