The Kimball graphic. (Kimball, Brule County, Dakota [S.D.]) 1883-1905, 1894-05-26
ON TIME.

pened only yesterday instead of a great
many years ago. Draw up your chairs,
and you, Tom, throw another log upon
the embers, for the air seems chilly.
We Jacksons are railroad men from
away back, and a better engineer than
my father never opened a throttle or
moved a wheel. He was employed on
what was then known as the Pacific
Short-Line and pulled No. 1S from
Packford to Denver, through a country
wildly romantic but thinly settled.
When No. Is started on her regular
trip you could not imagine u prettier
train in those days. Cars all new, lamps
bright, windows polished and the head
light glowing with a brilliancy that. as
l remember it, was far ahead of your
modern electricity.
The road was Just built and men
were scarce, so the company practiccd
economy by letting me run with my
father as fireman. 1t was Il feather in
the cap OF a boy of IA and | appreciated
it.
What pride l experienced in leaning
out of the cab window and watching
the scenery rs we flew over the countryt
| shall never forget how magnificent 1t
all seemed. Here and there the road
curved to the left or right, to pass some
deep glen filled with pines and over
hanging rocks; often o flock of deer
could be seen on n plateau 100 feet be-
low, quietly grazing, but ready to toss
up their pretty, innocent heads and flee
at the slightest approach Of danger.
Sometimes we would dash into a deep
cut and run more slowly, while dark
ness reigned for a moment. Emerging
from this, we crossed Il pretty mountain
stream. The little rivulet came bubbling
and rushing down the steep hillside like
a silver ribbon, growing suddenly
wider and falling over a precipice in
CLASSY haste on jagged rocks below,
where it broke into a brilliant mass of
spray and dazzled the eye with its form
and color.
1t was a dreary afternoon in Deem
Der. We had been running extra for
forty-eight hours, on account of the
heavy storms that had been raging for a
week previous. | was SO tired that /
slept upon my cushion. while father
added my work to his own and piloted
our precious freight of human life
through the snow.
Old Is had seemed discouraged and
labored heavily under her burdens as
the climbing grew sleeper; but father
stirred up her strength whenever she
shivered beneath the sleet that struck
her tielrely in the face and at 10 o'clock
l aroused myself to learn that we were
at our terminus.
All, me! How YEARLY my poor
father staggered from the cab and how
gladly l saw the groom" take posses
sion of the old iron horse to rub her
down and put her in n stall to resti
But before we left the station for home
an order was given my father to start
In two hours on the night mail and
make the run to Denver in place of the
regular engineer, who wa dangerously
Ill. He %shuddered as he read the order
and put his hand to his forehead in q
feeble way, but there was no possibility
of getting rid of the trip and he did not
complain.
Mother frctted about the effea.s of so
much anxiety and loss of sleep upon
him and vainly tried to tempt his appe-
tite at suppertine, but he talked to he1
chcerfully and said he should be all
right, that Ned would take care of him,
and when this trip was over he would
have a rest.
We hurried to the depot, where our
train was waiting. and thought when
we caine to the engine that it painted
and chafed as if tired of the delay.
Father patted her sides as if she was a
living creature and said to me, with o
smile:
"She is a stranger to me. Ned, but she
Is strong and willing. With plenty OF
coal and water she will show steam
enough to take us safely through"
We had to wait n few minutes for the
passengers to come boiling out of the
depot, with their arms full of parcels
aud lunch-baskcts, but at last the signal
came and with n firm, gentle hand
father guided us out into the darkness
of the night.
l was determined to keep awake and
do my part of the work, and l soon saw
that father was not as well as when we
started. He leaned heavily against the
window and as | opened the door of the
furnace to feed it with coal / though ]
had never seen his face SO pale.
He did II o talk much, hut whenever
I looked at him he smiled in n way that
seemed sad and ghastly.
1t was nearly 6 O'Clock in the morn
ing when we left Nicholby and two
hours more would bring us to Donyer.
In spite of my fears about father | was
!, growing drowsy. when l was startled
to hear him exclaim, in a clear, ringing
voice:
, Ned, do you see yon lightp IT'S 9
signal, lad"
I glanced out of my frosty window,
but could see nothing, and, getting down
I from my place, crossed over to his side
of the cab, thinking the signal would be
visible from that seat.
His eyes had grown wonderfully
: bright and were fixed upon something
\ In the darkness far away.
r Springing lightly up beside him,
: gazed in the same direction, but the ligh1
: he saw was moi for me.
where is it, faticr;?" I asked, eager
8 ly.
! His eyelids closed a ONE and the1
. opened slowly.
Dear Ned" said he, in beautiful
tenderness, "the signal is put out for me
!, 1t mean n report to headquarters
8 long layof-and-rest-"
3 He sighed gently and his head fel
' back on my shoulder.
For the first time in my life l drew
8 near the presence of death and my
9 thoughts flew to the mother who was
b waiting our return. Ny tears fell thicl
+ and iast ard ! strched the damp ma!
that clustered about his forehead ant
kissed him again and again.
q The hand that had been guiding u
safely through'that night Of storm owe
those black miles of peril fell from tn
9 lever and cried aloud in agony.
He reused himself again. leaned for
ward, gave the throttle a tremulous pusI
q and looked at me with the glory o
eternity shining or his face.
. Il shall be found Mt my post, lad, ane
the Master will care for youand mother
Don't cry, dear. but tell her how l go
. the summons"
His breath grew shorter and gather
ed him closer TO my heart, listening in
tently for his last words. Softly bu