Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1899-1903, 1901-04-18

already, and engine 1888, waiting at the
Junction with her snowpiow set, was
kissing and rumbling impatiently. The
big brown building, embracing hotel
and waiting rooms, ticket and station
masters office, doomed up against the
star dotted sky. The switch lights
cleaned in crimson, green and dazzling
white here, there and everywhere along
the glinting rails. Bleary lamps were
burning in frost covered windows, and
tiny sparks futtered from the pipe of
the solitary biped on the platform,
burly man in the toll stained garb of
locomotive engineer, sturdy fellow
who limped as he stamped up and down
the creaking planks of the platform, his
hands in his pockets, his eyes every
where. To him came forth his fireman,
splitting his mouth with a wedge of
bilious looking pound cake. He strove
to speak, but, finding articulation i'm
possible, jerked backward his head and
pantolnimed the process Of serving him
self with a cup of comforting drink
coffee, presumably for he was fresh
from the lunch counter.
Come, swallow the rest of that grub,
now, and be lively with your oil can.
We can t wait two minutes after she
once gets in. No" he continued as the
younger repeated his persuasive panto-
mime, 81 had my tea at home, and
that's enough. You'll die of overeating,
first thing you know. Do your best now.
We've got an extra Pullman and car
load of greenhorns to haul up to Butte
this night of all others, and I'm betting
it's showing in the mountains now. :"
So saying, the engineer turned and
gazed anxiously westward, where even
the stars seemed blotted from sight,
then quickly whirled about and bent
his ear.
Coming at last" he muttered.
That's old Coyotes yelp for the CROSS
roads, Did little wind for wits.
thing has she left either. No wonder No.
SIS late, with nothing better than that
limping carcass to drag it. She ought
to be in the boneyard--ought to "a been
there year ago. But here's the beau
ty,' said he to himself, as he turned
and laid loving hand on the massive
driving rod of the huge machine.
Lively, Scut," he added. "Three's
coming"
Scut was descending from the cab as
a cat comes down a tree backward.
"What'n ell they takin recruits to
Ransom fer now?" he asked. 1.-The
wars over"
Its to fill the gaps made when the
/ xpa nd
mighty hard they'll find it to fill come
of 'em too. Jim strang, that was killed
at Gave Springs, was corporal with me
in Bates troop eight years ago, and
there wasn't q better sergeant in all the
cavalry. Lo loves shining mark, or
I'd never got hit twice in one day"
Would you go back to soldierin il
you could, Mr.. Long?" asked the fire.
man, fitting up his long necked can as
he thrust the nozzle deep in between
the spokes of a massive driver.
81? Give me back the legs I had be.
fore the Sioux made sieve Of my skin,
aud it isn't the rail I'd be riding, but
the best sorrel in Billy Rays troop, and
with the best Office in it, and that
first sergeant.
"It's takin chances to be in the caval.
ry these days" said he of the oil can,
listening to the low, faraway rumble
Of the coming train. "Do you see hel
headlight yet?''
"She isn't through the cut" was
Longs answer. GAS to taking chances,
they We done nothing but take chances
in that regiment ever since the war,
yet there isn't day of our lives we
don't take chances, and bigger chances
right here on this mountain division. ,
A tall young fellow in travelling caI
and ulster had come out from the lunch
room and was strolling over toward the
kissing engine. He stopped and Listened
, as Long spoke, then seemed to be pom
, dering over the words and looking t,
the engine man for explanation.
, How do you meant" asked Sout
pausing i'll his work and locking up
, "We haven't had hold up on tn,
, road for over year.
Neither have we had head on col
| lision. nor snreading rails. nor q plung
, from trestle, but they are only three
of the things likely to occur any min
, ute, especially when trains are running
/. behind as we are tonight-all on &C
/ count OF that one eyed coyote that
: peeping at you down yonder. y
1t was the headlight of No. 8, jus
dawning on the view at Mile End Gross
. ing, II which the engineer referred.
"Watch how slowly she comss,' b
added. "Thc old maid is about worl
' out. Here s the girl that can shake tina
{ train up grade as though twas made Q
e bandboxes. I'll bet you we make Butt
: by o'clock. y
o "I'll bet you don't, if you'll let m
r in, was the cool interjection of til
Q young man ulster clad; for Butte's m
t objective point. ("
q "What do you know about it, G
about railroading?" asked Long suspi
y oiously.
g "As much as you did when you qui
n soldering, and no more, wherein W
have much in common, Mr. Long, BIT
o here's where the difference comes il
q You quit soldering to take to the raj