Iron County register., 1892-07-07
AT THE THROTTLE.
A Plucky Young Engineers Per-
ilOus Undertaking.

Crooked Ben he was called by
every body in the little Colorado town,
without thought of disrespcct. The
hunchbacked boy bore the nickname,
too, without thinking it other than a
common title. Few who saw him NOV
ing about. with his misshapen shoulders
and understood form, would guess that
he had talent; but the brilliancy of his
large eyes, the breadth of his forehead
and the pleasant intelligence of his
pale face did much to redeem his de-
formity and proved him, what he real
ly was. genius. He was noted for his
constructive skill. Mechanics was his
passion and for making tiny water
wheels to whirr in the foaming noun
tain stream he soon progressed to Il
study of the engines in the roundhouse
at the railway station. 1t was the end
of a branch road and many dark
monster was stabbed in the sOoty build
ing. He pondercd over them with an
enthusiastic patience and an artists
zeal until he knew every part perfectly
and was often allowed to sit up with
the engineers on short runs and even to
handle the throttle during the switch.
ing about the yards
Alpine Junction was at the head of n
canyon One autumn day the mayor of
the little city at the foot, looking out
on the plains to the east, visited the
town joined to his own By the railway
running close to q mountain stream,
often crossing and recrossing it. In the
afternoon the wind changed. clouds
came scurrying over Pixies peak and a
big storm threatened.
About three O'Clock a telegram was
received for the mayor of the lower
town. Not twenty minutes after the
operator had, with a grave face, copied
it and sent off a messenger. a covered
carriage came hurrying through the
wind and rain, drawn by galloping
horses. The mayor alighted and in a
moment was excitedly asking the
agent: when does the next train go
east?'
.sAt six o'clock"
THAT will not do; I must go at
once How many miles is it to the
=springs?"
Sixty"
Il couldn't get there in five hours by
horses. | must have an engine a riot
has broken out between the townsmen
and the workers in the smelling works.
l ought to be there now"
III telegraph the superintendent"
said the agent There is an engine
here but it is against orders to let it
go. 1t will cost you considerable, sir. y
II don't care what 1t costs. Hurry up
the message
The agent flew to his instrument.
The Indicator gave no answering click
The wires between the station and the
Springs were down. Either the storm
had broken farther east or the rioters
had cut them. He explaiaed the situa-
ton to the mayor.
well" said he. fire up your engine
and let me go. 1t is for the public
good and / must 60"
The agent thought moment
There is hardly chance. The man
who runs the Pilgrim, Edward Forester.
is sick
Then who can go with it?" asked
the mayors host.
IL had thought" said the agent, hesi-
tating,y, that as the track Is clear and
will be for two hours that-if you can
get Foresters consent-that maybe
Ben might do it."
The gentleman clapped his hands.
1.-THE very one" he exclaimed. and in
n moment ne was away in his carriage
to fetch the boy.
When he reached the station and the
mayor looked at the fragile, hump
backed form and the frail face he hesi-
tated.
..Have you ever run an engine, boy?'
he asked.
..Yes. sir, little ways. But 1 under
stand it rs we'll as anySody.
Then you think you can make this
cun?'
''Yes, sir"
But the mayor hesitated to trust him
self to Ben's hands, and it was not un-
til the officials host returned from a
trip to the sick engineers bed to report
that FORESTER said Ben was capable,
that orders were given to hurry mp
and try it."
The storm had risen in fury, and
greet driving gusts Of rain come tear