Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1890-06-18

ing into the resounding air, on which
human shrieks smote steadily, as it was
said they did all that awful night.
Again the whistle of the train-near now
nearer
AS the pathetic couple ran up the torn
and twisted track, Denny began to sob
aloud; but all he said WAS, Papa papa !
papa
Glib 'em to me, sonny" said the
negro, with the authority of age and
danger. 81 kin run EASTERN you,
honey Goramercy, dar she am y
The old man seized the torpedoes,
and rushing away with them vanished
in the darkness. The unknown, collar
less dog followed him. Denny, Sob
bling and calling his fathers name,
pushed on as well as he could by him
self. AS he ran he tried to say his
prayers, but all he could remember was
"Our Father who art in heaven"
Then he thought how soon might
his father on earth be father in heaven,
too? He could not say the prayer. The
boy, like many an older and wiser than
Donny, only cried instead of praying.
AS he ran along in this fashion, some
thing hit against him, whinnying in
the dark. It was Ben Bow, the
horse he had ridden ever since he was
a baby. Now this comforted the lad in
credIbly, to have one of the family
with him.
The old man and the train were now
face to face. The locomotive came ca u
tiously, for the shocks had penetrated
far up the road, but too fast-far too
fast. Where the track had gone to
pieces, mass of twisted rails and toss
ing sleepers and fllrrowed earth, bank
what is called high bank in South
ern topography-raised itself just in the
turn of time to have sent the derailed
train plunging down.
The Old negro watched the approach
ing flare of the headlight as he ran on,
with a grim, defiant air
81 stump We - he said, aloud. He
shook his trembling black fist at the To-
comotive. Stumbling along, his old
bundle over one shoulder. and the tor
pedoes clutched in the other arm, being
thus encumbered-for it did not occur
to him that he could throw away his
bundle, he was so poor-he tripped and
fell. His foot caught-it is unknown in
what; in a twisted tie, or perhaps in a
crevice of the cracking earth.
When be tried to rise, something held
the hero down. He reached his whole
length forward fiat upon the roadbed,
and with great precision, and with a
GOODNESS that one cannot think of now
without emotion he laid one torpedo on
each rail, exactly where it needs must
lie to give the warning through the
crushing wheel.
Now for the second time the old man
and the locomotive regarded each other.
Her fiery breath was close upon him.
Above the uproar of the reeling earth
the shrek of the train sounded in his
deafened ears. Once again the strong
black fist was clenched in the approach
ing monsters face.
II dare We |" he cried "Come on! /
dare yet" He pulled himself up with
mighty wrench. But the unknown
power held him. He felt the claws of
the cow-catcher He gave one low cry:
lord, I'd like to got dar an seen
Juno 500 afore she died"
Then he closed his eyes that he might
not see what would happen; clasped his
hands above his gray head, and gave
his manly soul to God.
The anxious and bewildered passen-
gers heard the snap snap of the tor
pedoes, and half of them rushed to the
platforms. The engineer signaled
"down brakes - and the train, with a
Highly JOlt, CdluS " Il StOp. n n0dNy
shock shook the night at that instant
The smell of sulphur was strong in the
chilly air The engineer got out with
lantern. The crowd gathered in a mo-
ment. At the brink of the scattered
track, at the very edge of wreck and
death, the train had come to a stand.
''Who did it"' swept from lip to lip.
No one was in sight.
II thought we hit a man." said the
engineer, swinging his lantern far out
into the darkness. But no sign, wheth-
er of the dead or of the living, was in
sight; nothing but half-starved collar
less dog, who sat stupidity upon the
grass and who did not even wag his tail
when the stoker spoke to him.
"Who saved us? Who saved the
train?' Ask the disappointed vulture
and the mouth of the muttering earth to
tell you gentlemen passengers! There
is no other lip to answer.
Yes, there is one; little, trembling,
ashy hp-a child 's-scarcely able to
articulate for grief or terror, and pour
ing forth confused cries that nobody
can understand. They have left the
train and are making their way cautious
ly homeward down the devastated road
bed, where the track had lain 1t is
hurled now to every point of the com
pass in the wild night.
The passengers came to a halt sud-
denly, before little budding figure,
with its face hidden in it's arms, crouched
beside crooked rail. An old horse,
with traces hanging and harness
wreck, stands snorting beside the boy.
"Donny. Donny! Why, my sonny
boy y
The crowd parts for thin, white
faced man-the passenger who had
been heard to say upon the way: "My
little son is coming to meet me. [
hope these shocks do not extend to the
Summerville station"
There is one other little wild call,
EPapa papa "a tremendous effort to
be manly and not cry before strangers
and the boy melts into his fathers
arms and wonders whose tears they
are which rain upon his cuddling face
But who saved the train? Where is
he? How did he do it? Who took that
noble risk? Where is the hero? Here
"You, my lad?''
Then Denny raised his awestruck face
from his fathers quick beating heart,
and, standing among the strangers and
the neighbors, told the story-all that
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