The Vermont watchman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1883-1911, 1898-03-23
Bill McC0rd and the Magnates.

Bill McCOrd and the Magnates.
Bill was a teamster, and in his hum
BILE way was doing his best to get for
ward the cross.ties that were to hold
the rails of the new Rio Grande West.
ern Railway. The ties were heavy,
and the sap was not yet out of them.
Some were OF red pine, some OF white
spruce, and some, | regret to say, were
OF white cotton wood, with probable
life ahead of them of two years. What
mattered that? The money spending in
this desert came from far-off Holland,
and under any conditions it could hard
ly be expected that it would ever 60
back to them.
Bill was man of resources, and
rarely did he ever come to the place
where he would sit on the wagon
tongue and say, "I'll give up" He
had not come to that place yet, although
to casual on locker it seemed that he
was in as bad hole as he well could
be- Across the wide abode fat the
summer torrents had cut deep gullies
or "washes." Miles long they were,
and the banks quite vertical and some
eight feet high Only where the pick
up could they be crossed. Naturally,
the first teamster did not do more than
he must to get through, perhaps with
only a light wagon and a surveyors camp
as load. Now, Bill's wagon stood
in this cut, the front wheels only partly
out, the four horses tired of the struggle
and not inclined to pull together any
longer. Bill had wisely ceased urging
them, and sat on the rear of the wagon,
smoking cigarettes and watching the
level horizon backward of the road.
Just at sunset he was rewarded for
his patient wait by seeing light wagon
rapidly approaching. Four gay bron-
chos drew it forward, some of them
trotting, others Looping unevenly, the
driver letting them out with perfect I'M
concern of chuck-holes or sharp curves
where the road lodged protruding
stones. 1t was getting near night, and
there was yet ten miles between him
and his passengers and camp at the
end of the railway. He drew up with
sudden stop at the brink of the wash,
and sat there talking to his horses, not
noticing Bill beyond asking, "Stuck,
are We, pard?n Bill nodded briefly.
Then silence reigned, except for the
nervous kicking at his singletree of the
off leader. But in the wagon there
was some commotion. Three men
leaped out and came rapidly forward.
Their derby hats and broadcloth looked
strangely out of keeping with the DESC
lation of the desert surroundings. Two
other men, heavy and red-faced, leaned
out of the wagon and surveyed the
scene with audible impotence.
"C0me, come, my man, you must not
block the road here; get out of the way,
can't your" said the leader.
"Be you fellers in hurryp" drawled
Bill, rolling fresh cigarette.
Eyes, yes, we are in hurry. We
are ten miles from camp, you know,
and that is Mr.. B., the president HIM
self, in the wagon. Why don't you try
to pull out of the way?"
'Do you fellers really want to get by
here?" repeated Bill, quietly.
"We must get by, and at once"
"Well, there is just one way to get
by that know Of. No use to put them
bronks on in front of my team. They
wouldn't pull the hat off your head.
Get down here and put your shoulders
to the wheels, and mebbe we can get
out. All of you, mind; l won't let the
horses pull pound until every man of
ye is lifting, and lifting good"
There was not much said. The
spokesman, though wearing a "biled
shirt" and derby knew the ways of
the West" He quietly reasoned with
his reluctant companions, and going to
the wagon made some representation
TO the passengers there, and finally the
OvercOats were shed and the wheels
were grappled, and as few Americans
have failed to go through with such an
experience in their early days, it was
not an awkward or unavailing massing
of muscle. Bill gathered up his lines,
spoke confidently to his wheelers,
cheerily to his leaders; they dug their
toes into the yielding sand, the skin
wrinkled over their muscular hips, the
wheels turned, slowly, steadily, inch
by-inch, up and up, and at last on TO
the level road beyond.
"Much obleeged, gents;" said Bill,
with wave of the whip backward.
81 suppose that is what you call
western gall, ;" remarked the great rail-
way magnate as he picked up his glossy
top-coat
Eyes," replied the leader cheerily.
"One man is as good as another in this
country, if not a great deal better.
That teamster meant no disrespect to
any of us. Had we been Mormon
farmers il would have been the same
proceeding. Why, l should like to
know, ought we not to help him out OF
his hole?'-Country Gentleman.