The weekly Thibodaux sentinel and journal of the 8th Senatorial District. [volume] (Thibodaux, Lna. [i.e. La.]) 1875-1898, 1893-03-11

les. He knew every locomotive on the
road. understood the intricacies Of the
side tracks and switches, and could
tell the precise moment when any par
ticular train might be expected with
the accuracy Of a time table.
Yet the very quickness and ardor of
his nature deepened his sense of his in
trinity. The glances cast upon him by
stranger eyes, some pitiful, some Gu
rious, others. alas! expressive only of
annoyance and disgust, ranked like so
many arrows in his heart; not one
missed its mark. How wistfully his
eyes followed boys of his own age
straight, handsome, happy-who sprang
lightly up and down the steps of the
coaches, or threaded their way along
the crowded platforms. For one day
of such a perfect, untrammeled life he
would have bartered all the possible
years before him. Yet he never put
his y%earnings into words, even to his
mother.
Crooked Joe'sa rum 'un," said one of
his rough acquaintance. HE senses
his trouble well enough, but he don't
let on to nobody"
Mr., Crump, the telegraph operator,
was Joe's constant friend. It was he
who, at odd moments, had taught the
boy to read and had initiated him
into some of the mysteries of the
Clicking instrument, which to Joe's
imaginative mind seemed some strange
1 ornofuro with N h;lIa l,fo ~ So 1870
1t was growing toward dark one No
vember afternoon. Joe-never an I'M
welcome visitor-sat curled in a corner
of Mr. Crump's Office waiting for his
mother to finish her work. He was la
boriously spelling out by the faded
light the words upon a page Of an illus
trated ne wspaper, quite oblivious Of
the ticking, like that of a very ierky
and rheumatic clock, which sounded in
the room
Mr.. Crump, too, had a paper before
him, but his ears were alive. Suddenly
he sprang to his feet, repeating aloud
the message which that moment flashed
along the wire.
"'Engine No. ITO running wild. Clear
track"
He rushed to the door, shouting the
news.
Not a second to spare. She'll be
down in seven minutes"
The words passed like lightning. In
a moment the yard was in a wild COM
motion. Men flew hither and thither,
yard engines steamed wildly away, the
switches closing behind them.
The main track was barely clear
when 10 came in sight, swaying from
side to side, her wheels threatening to
leave the track at each revolution. She
passed the depot like a meteor, her bell
changing with every leap of her piston,
the steam escaping from her whistle
with the continuous shrek of a demon,
and the occupants Of the cab wrapped
from view in a cloud of smoke.
Some hundred yards beyond the
depot the track took a sharp upward
grade, from which it descended again
to strike the bridge across a narrow
but deep and rocky gorge.
Men looked after the flying locomo-
tive and then at each other with
blanched faces.
They're gone. A miracle can't save
EN-" said one, voicing the wordless
terror Of the rest. "If they don't fly
the track on the upgrade they'll go
down as soon as they strike the tres
tie"
The crowd began to run along the
track, some with a vain instinct Of
helpfulness, some moved by that NOR
bid curiosity which seeks to be sin at
the DEATH"
But look! Midway the long rise
the speed Of the runaway engine sud-
denly slackens.
"What does it mean? She never
could a. died out in that time!' shouted
an old yardman.
Excitement winged their feet. When
the foremost runners reached the place
49,