Waterbury evening Democrat., 1890-09-17
A TERRIBLE RIDE.
How the Passengers on a Wild EngIn,
 Were Saved by an Oiled Track.

Were Saved by an Oiled Track.
 ''Talk about fast time," said a rail- road man on the Missouri Pacific train the other day to his companion, ''but I have never heard of a trip that would beat one I made myself some years ago, nor of any half so exciting. formerly lived at Garrett, Ind, the terminus of the Central division of the Chicago di- vision of the Baltimore & Ohio railroad. had little to do, and made the railroad yards my loafing headquarters. At that time the 'Billy-O had an arrangement with the Wabash to transfer all New York freight at Auburn Jun ction, nine miles distant, to the east of us. This was done by the old switch en- zine, the 642, which made two trips to the junction daily. Well. one day l climbed aboard a box-car when the engine left with a few cars of merchandise to transfer There were six of us in the party--four yardmen another fellow and myself. We had jolly time going down; made the trans fer, and were to come back light that is with nothing but the engine, We had all crowded on the tenderj the sig nal was given, and Gent Potter, the en- Gineer, threw himself forward, pulled at the trottle-valve, and the engine jumped forward as if shot from a catapult. We did not think much of this at the time, as Gent was Q fine engineer and handled the engine to suit his fancy. We were tearing over the railroad crossings and frogs in manner that was frightful. The tender rocked as if on hinges. Something must be wrong, we thought, as Gent was placing our lives in jeop- ardy. Climbing over the coal, we found the cab full of steam and Gent and the fireman hanging at the side of the engine.
 Jump, boys said they, jump, for Gods sake! The throttle-valve is pulled clear out, and the engine is rum ming wild
 ''To jump would have been instant death. As one of the boys said after ward, the telegraph poles looked like fine-tooth comb. The mile posts flew by with unseemly rapidity. The yard foreman claimed that a mile was GOV cred in thirty-eight seconds, and not one would doubt his word. St. Joe was in sight. Would the track be clear? Only three miles to Garrett, with it's network of tracks, switches and spurs! The steam-guage registered ninety pounds. There were no hopes of the engine dying out in five or six minutes. With presence of mind the foreman dashed of few words:
 "'Engine wild. Telegraph Garrett to clear track
 '"This he dropped as we passed St. Joe, and the operator, clear to compre- bend the situation, sent it to the dis patcher on the east end, without call as we learned afterward. There was Garrett in sight, with it's tall chimneys belching forth smoke; there were the yards filled with freight cars and en- zines. As we got closer we could see men hurrying hither and thither. The other yard engine was rushing madly to the west end of the yard We passed the depot like pursued victim. Pale faces watched us in our mad flight We passed the railroad shops, and hundreds came running to see the cause of the commotion. The engine was in culver; the bell was ringing wildly with each sway of the engine; the es- | caping steam whistled as if demented, and fires blazed from the hot boxes. Then we saw something that made us | think we were doomed. The switch to the coal chute was open, and the long ascent could only | end in our destruction. We looked again, saw men working on the track, and then we knew we were saved. | What were they doing? Why, bless my soul, friend, those fellows were oil ing the track up the chute. We struck the ascent and slid up about one hum dred feet and then the old GAP stood still and the wheels few around; sparks came from beneath them like from an emery wheel. Gradually the engine slid down, the wheels still in the for ward motion, and thus the engine died out We all suffered severe shock to our nervous system, but had it not been for the presence of mind of the master mechanic, who ordered the oil poured on the chute track, might not have
 heen here to-day"
 "And how fast did you go ?'
 ''Well, the first six miles were made in less than five minutes; the last three
 were made in much slower time as the
 steam was exhausting itself rapidly."-
 St. Louis Globe-Democrat.