The Houma courier. (Houma, La.) 1878-1939, 1897-08-14

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said, would be in TO vote and trade, and
the people, being either drunk OF tired.
would sleep soundly when once asleep
and the gang voted that Doc was a
great thinker.
The time arrived, the store was en-
tered, and when they were all in Doc
ducked down behind the counter and
reached the rear end of the store. Now
a big bull's-eye was turned upon the
gang, who arose from their work to look
down the dark barrels of a half dozen
shotguns. One of the gang, seeing Doc
with the sherif's party, made q play for
his pistol, but the sheriff showed his
shotgun yet nearer the robbers face
and said, softly: BE quiet" and he was
calm.
The next day the father Of one OF the
gang, who was himself a hard man,
made-an attempt to kill the detective,
and, having done his work, Doc de
parted. ~H
Young Pippin's success in this now
celebrated case won for him the full
confidence Of the agency, and before
he adreached Chicago other important
work was mapped out for him, but to
the surprise of the agency he refused to
accept another assignment.
81 could not bear he said to me, "the
thought of living a whole life that was
a lie-to appear always to be that which
1 was motto mix and mingle constant
ly with the wicked of this world, in
which there should be SO much happi-
lness.
Returning to the west again Pippin
entered the service of Uncle Sam as a
postal clerk.
Finding a letter in the mail marked
to me, he wrote on the back of the en-
velope: "Hello-Doc.--R. M. ST." and
L knew then that he was in the railway
mail service.
slow is it," I asked one day, "that
you are assistant superintendent of the
mail service in the west, when you ara
under 30, and new, comparatively new,
at the business?"
Hard luck" said Doc, smiling sadly,
coughing, and humping his chest.
Then it was that he began 20 tell me
some of his experiences in the postal
car, but he did not tell all. He was as
modest as he was honest, and would
not tell to me, his friend, the real tales
of heroism in which he was himself the
hero. He told enough, however, to in
terest me and cause me to find out more
from a mutual friend and to verify the
information by some of the records and
correspondence which / was afterward
permitted tt see. / found that his
loyalty, bravery and devotion to duty
had been warmly commended in auto
graph letters from the highest officials
in the mail service.
1t was, indeed, hard luck that brought
him promotion andan easy place, which
he could not have gained save through
the kindness of higher officials. He had
been in any number of wrecks, for
many of the western roads were new at
that time, and the ~railroading was not
safe as it is now. Once there was q
head-end collision, in which the wreck
took fire. Doc was dreadfully bruised,
but he had all his limbs, and as the
flames crept closer and closer to his car
be busted himself carrying the mail
matter to a place of safety. When his
work had been completed and the
flames lit up the canyon they showed
Doc lying upon his mail bags, a~pparent-
IL dead. The trainmen found him and
soon restored him to consciousness, for
he had only tainted from overwork and
the pain of his many wounds.
1t was nearly a year before he wad
able to take his run again, and this time
bis roIY4a low ovar an Cat. n
One night, when the train came oar
ing down the canyon, the engine
jumped the track, the mail car went to
pieces against the locomotive, the
coaches piled upon the pieces, and the
wreck began to burn.
When the trainmen and passengers
came forward to look for 'the fellows
np ahead they saw large and small
envelopes sailing out of the burning
debris, and they knew at once that the
mail agent must be fast in the wreck.
The whistle valve had been forced open,
and now the wild, ceaseless cry of the
wounded engine drowned all other
sounds, and made it impossible for the
men to hear the cries of the imprisoned
postal clerk. All this he knew, and
while the hungry flames were eating
their way to where he lay he pulled the
register bag to him, and began to shy
the valuable mail into the sage brush.
When the steam was exhausted and
the cry of the engine had hushed there
cam no sound from the enginemen, for
their voices were hushed in death.
Above the sound of the cracking flames
they could hear Doc calling to them
from his place below the wreck, and the
train crew worked desperately right
in the very face of the fire to rescue the
unfortunate.
Gradually the voice of the prisoner
grew fainter and fainter, and before
the g reached him it hushed en-
tirely.
At last, just as they were about to
give him up, as he was now apparently
dead. they succeeded in dragging Doc
from the wreck, and to the joy of all he
soon revived. He was yet alive, but had
breathed SO much Of the flames that his
left lung wal almost ruined, and he was
never able to resume his place on the
road.
It was this unfortunate wreck and