Nevada County picayune., 1890-12-11


 will be back by eleven o'clock. Take the boy. He's always warted a night ride.
 That got me. l just rose up :: she put on the boys little cap and gave me his coat, and I went off :, taking the boy. l remember how he laughed. I carried him over the rails in the dark yard on my shoul- der. and he kept batting my cheek and kissing me, till boosted him in to the cab of No. CAB. How proud he sat up there on my box between my legs.
 "Well.'s again continued Pete. rubbing a fresh match on his over alls, "nothing occurred as we coupled on. and ran quite awhile. We drew l four PuImans besides the baggage car It was hot and dark. We had ] the right of way, bnt had to approach Wickford cautious. for there we should find the regular New York ex- press. which we should overtake. No. 643 worked stiff. as 1 knew she would. but she was so big that when she got started nothing could trouble her much. and she just tossed the load along as light as feather. I noticed that the thrOttle-valve worked pretty hard when I had to shut off steam once or twice slowing through a station. Still I could jerk her in and out we'll enough with one hand. An ugly throttle is terrible thing, sir, though For you see a man cant be sure. Suppose you could not shut off. Suppose your throttle got stuck. full head on. going at fifty miles an hour. and you accom- ing into a station, for instance, even if there was nothing standing there, I tell you, you'd feel about as the Almighty would if the earth got loose and he couIdn't stop her"
 Then Hank puffed smokeless whiffs.
 "'Well," he resumed, presently. The excitement of his own memory had brought sweat-drops to his fore head; his pipe had gone out the third time. "That throttle-valve did stick on me! That's just what did ! haphen. We were. 1 calculated, about eight miles from Wickford. Somehow, though, there wasn't any station to slow me up, yet l had a | feeling, an awful feeling, too, that l could not if I would shut her off. 'Pshaw! 1 said to myself, and 1 played with the boys curly head with my right hand. But my left hand kept pressing and trying that 1 throttle harder and harder l could not stir her reached over and put my right hand on the lever l could not move her! got off my box. seemed to be in perfect frenzy. l sprang at that valve with both hands and all my weight. She didn't move a hair And the way we were kiting Probably we were flying over fifty miles an hour. l yelled at the fire man.
 !" Give us a hand, George!'
 He knew it all in second, and tumblcd in from the tender to put both his hands beside mine.
 :" 'Nowl' 1 shouted.
 We threw our weight against it. But that old beast just shook herself and jumped and jumped, as much as to say: You cant shut off my wind !"
 "Pete!' cried the fireman, there's the Wickford on the switch! We've only two miles more to live!
 "Then we struggled like two mad bulls. We pulled. Then we showed, We planted our feet and pulled and showed. We had no air-brakes in them days. But if we had, l VOW l b'Ieve to have put 'em on would have knocked out the cylinder heads or broke a driving rod, and sent us all to eternity.
 Al thls while, there sat my pret- ty boy, as calm, as laughing, be- cause he thought this was all play. But rknew we all had to die, and l caught up the boy. l held him, kissing him. It all took but mo- ment. There, less n mile ahead, stood the rear of the New York on our track at the station, l could see her red light. You better be- lievc forgot all about the big men behind. l was thinking, should l throw out my boy into the darkness? :?
 "'Papa, said Burnside, what