St. Paul daily globe. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn.) 1884-1896, 1886-10-14

recalls 10 ones mind all the poetry he has
ever heard or read about beardless youths.
He is away up to G in style, and wears the
latest brand of collars with protruding points
and celluloid gloss, and the jaunty pair OF
Eyeglasses thai cling to the bridge or ms
nose give him the appearance OF an art critic
on home journal. When he walks through
the streets he elevates his head and gaZes
around on the shifting crowds with an air that
seems to say, 1.-THE people of Chicago are
very proud of me- He is one of those Pc
cuiar beings who compels man to lean on
the bar and look curiOusy at him, the while
murmuring TO himself, with all thy faults.
l love thee STILL with more than an ordinary
emphasis on the word still.
Like all 2x4 railroad men, Adams has
faculty for telling story in such way that
the listener will swear that it is lie and at
the same time believe that it is the truth. He
tells story in a business sort of way, and
if there is any unseemly amount OF laughter
to be INDUCED in, ne allows the man who is
listening to him to scoop him. Last TUESDAY
he was galloping around the city with j. D.
Mccullough, of the Omaha road, and having
worked off all the shop-worn yarns that ne
had il stock, he wound up in the Ryan cafe,
where there had assembled several future
railroad presidents. They were all seated
around a table discussing the quality or a
bottle of Mumm' s,when Adams suddenly sad;
Boys, did | ever tell you about the time L
run a passenger train over a burnt bridge on
the Savannah, Florida s. western road?'
The boys in chorus replied that he had
never told them the story, and settling back
IN his chair, Adams tipped his hat on the
back Of his head and told the following start
ling narrative on himself:
1T was in rs; 1 was then conductor OF the
day express, running on the Savannah, Florida
& Western road, between Chattahooche ana
Savannah. I always was great Fellow Tor
machinery. you know, and when we had left
station and l had collected tickets, used
to climb out to the engine cab and chat with
Bill Stevens. the engineer. One day we left
Savannah follow ed half an hour later by
wild freight train that was going through to
Dupont without q stop. Between Savannah
and Dupont We had but three stops TO make.
and of course could easily keep ahead of the
freight At Way Cross we were hindered
twenty minutes by hot box, and when we
pulled out the freight was heaving into sight
around the curve, less than a quarter of
q mile behind US. The next stopping place
was bonneville and we went of at a rafting
gait for the purpose of making up for lost
time After the train was well under way, l
climbed out to the engine and sat talking to
Bill; behind Us Numbered the freight, butwe
were slowly gaining on it and expected that
we would be well ahead of it when we reached
bonneville. We were just rounding bluf
that hung out over the track; l was looking
out of the cab window when l was startled
by an exclamation from Bill, and, looking
around, saw him standing with blanched
face, with his hand clutching the throttle,
looking straight ahead. Following his gaze
I was Mortified to see that the bridge over
Swan creek, hardly one hundred yards away,
was burned and had fallen, leaving black
chasm about twenty feet wide and fifty feet
deep staring at US. My first thought was to
stop the train, but 1 knew that the freight
behind US would dash around the corner and
on to the train before it could be signaled. 1t
was sure death to stop, but there was barely
a possible chance of clearing the creek
by giving the locomotive full
head of steam. I turned to Bill to
order him to throw open the throttle
when he suddenly stepped TO the cab door
and sprang down the embankment, the fire.
man followed suit and was left alone. 1t
wasn't pleasant situation to be in, boys, but
there were 800 lives in my charge and if they
were sacrificed I concluded to take my
chances with them and setting my teeth hard
together pulled the throttle wide open and
shutting my eyes sank on to the seat of the
cab in heap, expecting every second was
my last. The engine shot ahead like an
arrow. After crouching on the seat fully five
minutes without the expected crash coming,
I mustered up courage to open my eyes, and
looking out of the window found that we
were flying through the country fully six
miles beyond Swan sreek. My undertaking
was successful; we had jumped across the
burnt bridge and had done it so quickly and
neatly that not one of the pas
sengers suspected the danger that
had menaced them. l stopped the train
and backed down to the bridge.
1 found that the freight train had stopped
the other side of the river in consequence of
a draw bar breaking. Stevens, the engineer,
broke his leg by jumping, and the fireman
was found dead on pile of rocks. When
the passengers found out what had done
they took up collection for me that
amounted to $500. l drove the engine into
Dupont, where we secured an engineer and
fireman and went on to Chattahooche. 1t was
a terrible time, boys. went on to that tram
at Way Cross with as fine head of hair as
ever a man wore, but when came off / was
as bald-headed as the front row in parQuette.
When Adams had finished the story the
boys all drew a long breath and looked at
each other. Reaching down in his pocket,
Mccullough drew out little, delicately-tinted
card, and, without saying wor, passed it
over to Adams. Adams picked it up, and on it
was Iprinted in large letters the following
words: