The Portland daily press., 1895-06-17

have opened the throttle and sent them
flying into the river with less risk to
his train, but they were lying down,
and as they rolled under the wheels they
lifted the great engine from the rails
and threw her down the dump at the
very edge Of the river. So we'll had the
faithful engineer performed his work
that the train was stopped without
wrecking car. Many of the passengers
were not awakened. The trainmen came
forward and found the engineer. He
was able to speak to them. He knew
what had happened and knew that he
had but few minutes to live. These
brave, rough men of the rail never hide
anything from each other, and when he
asked for his fireman they told him the
fireman was dead.
AS he lay there in the moonlight,
with his head resting in the conductors
lap, while the brakeman brought cup
from the mail car and gave him drink
of water, he told them where he wanted
to be buried-back east somewhere;
spoke of his insurance policy; left a
loving message for his wife, and then,
as if he had nothing more to say or do,
closed his eyes, folded his hands over
his brave heart. and without a murmur
apparently without pain-died.
1t was many hours before they found
the fireman. When the crash came, he
was standing in front Sf the furnace
door. The tank doubled forward and
forced him up against the boiler head,
where, if he had net been killed instant
ly, he must have been slowly roasted.
He lay in the wreck so long that when
they got him out there was deep and
ugly groove across his face, where he
had lain against the narrow edge Of the
throttle lever. Save this deep frrrow
there were no marks upon his face. but
that one mark remained, even after the
body was embalmed.
The writer was at that time employed
by the same company in similar Ca
pacity and was sent out to the wreck to
take charge of the body Of the fireman,
Dring 1t to Denver ana then take 1t
back to the farm at Salina. The travel
ing engineer went out with a Especial
engine and the superintendent's private
Car, and went with him.
1t is not q pleasant task to deliver the
dead to bereaved relatives, but it is the
least that oan be done. and some one
must do it. The engine left the track
precisely at midnight, Friday night,
and it was not until the afternoon Of the
following Tuesday that reached Salina
There had been six children in this
happy family-three boys and three
girls. The eldest son was locomotive
engineer, but he had left the road for
good and was now with the family at
the Kansas farm.
"How does be look?" asked the engi-
neer when we had taken seats in the
farm carriage. "Oan mother see him?'
'He looks very we'll. said I, and
then remembering that ugly furrow in
his face, "but would it not be better for
all Of you to remember him just as he
left homer
II shall leave that all to you, /" he
said, while the hot tears fairly rained
down upon the laprobe that covered our
knees
When we reached the Mcconnell
place, and went into the house where
the family were all assembled in the
large plain parlor, there was no need Of
an introduction. They all knew me and
knew why had come, and when they
crowded about me. all weeping so bit
terly, felt that could not hold out
much longer myself. did better than
had expected, however. until attempt
ed to talk, when the tears came up in
my throat and choked me. So, with
little brother on one knee, little sis
ter on the other, while the two young
ladies were sobbing by the window and
the brave young engineer was trying
between his tears to calm his mother,
gave way and wept with the rest.
When we had all gained the little re-
lief that always comes with shower Of
tears. the mother began to talk to me
and ask questions. To begin with, she
asked mo if I could tell her exactly
when her boy was killed.
''Last Friday night, said.
"What timer" she asked, glanoing at
her two daughters, who had turned from
The window and were trying to dry their
eyes.
, almost exactly at midnight, was
my reply.
"Ah," she said, bursting into tears
again, 81 knew It'll I knew itp'
"He was kilsea instantly" said L
s'He neva knew what happened.
said this with the hope Of their de.
irving shade of comfort from the fact
Gnar Ene dear brave boy was not roasted
alive, as so many enginemen are.
'tNot quite instantly, said the weep
ing mother. HE called me twice,
Mother, motherl' and I saw him stand
ing before me with great deep furrow
across his face
Then she placed the edge of her hand
against her face to show me where the
scar was, and when saw her mark the
very angle of the ugly groove I felt a
strange tingling sensation at the roots