The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1902-05-09

| hang to Him. But now ABOUT Ine
surgeon you was goin' to tal1e?"
The old father looked up at this
question with face of firmness and
tenderness, and answered.:
81 am a surgeon. 1 know how my
boy is wounded, and can save his life,
if can get there in time, as sure as
my name is Nelson"
after the train started and Mark
! Winston and I had worked up our
mail. told him of the little incident.
He was greatly interested, and, when
I had finished, asked if I knew their
names.
"Why, the old man said his name
was Nelson"
"What," said Mark, 81 knew had
seen that man before as l saw him
pass the mail car door. He was our
surgeon in the army, and sewed up
this cheek at Chickamaugua, and set
this old broken leg at Resacca. He
was the finest surgeon in the world,
we thought, and, with it all, tender
as woman. I must go back and
see them. Can you keep up the run?
and how much money have you got?'
| 1 knew what Mark had in his mind
by the last question, but I doubted
our having enough to get the road
to vary it's schedule. Our train must
wait for certain connections at Dali
las, and as Fort Worth was only 80
miles further on / didn't see any
chance. Ray Ellis might be able at
Dallas to get an order to run, re-
CARELESS of schedule, to Fort Worth,
but he couldn't make up the time.
Fort Worth was the terminal of the
Rock Island, and, of course, the train
| would leave on time. 1 had been on
this run for year, and had never yet
seen that train upon our arrival.
When Mark returned to the mail
car through the vestibuled train we
were nearing Dallas. All through the
afternoon I had kept up the run, as
the mail was light over this part of
| the road. Twice / had seen him at
the telegraph offices when the train
would stop, and, at Terrell, I thought
he got message, but when 1 looked
at his face 1 saw he considered the
case hopeless.
"Wen," 1 said, and awaited his an
swer.
Here's the telegram" he said,
handing me the message. 1t read:
winston, Postal Clerk on Train s:
Cannot accept your money. Previous
arrangements made. Campbell,
Supt."
"Well, that settles it," I said, hand
ing back the paper.
mo, it don't settle it by darn
sight, said Winston. "The little
mother has appealed the case to a
higher power than railroad superin-
tendents. I don't know how, but I
believe it."
At Dallas we were busy loading
and unloading the mail when old Ray
Ellis came rushing out of the dis
patcher's office like mad. His face
was flushed and his eyes dancing, as
he handed his order to Mark:
"Read that, quick"
Winston's voice trembled as he read
aloud:
con account of wedding party, Rock
Island train will be held 20 min
utes, and train will run regardless
of time card, Dallas to Fort Worth,
in order to make connection"
And so the decision of the CLOVER
court" was only misunderstood. The
previous arrangement" was the we'd
ding party now getting on our train.
And, my little lady, clinging to your
young husband, did the higher court
the court that knows all verdicts be-
fore they are rendered-did that
tribunal, in sweetest subtleness, help
you to select this for the day of your
happiness? That court, my dear,
knows all things, and mayhap there
is another reason than your pleasure
that this train shall swing and lurch
| and plunge as no other train on these
| Texas prairies has done before. For
| the fireman is now, as we wait for the
leaving time, shoveling coal into the
| fireboX; and old Ray Ellis, flushed
and excited, never yet poured 50
much oil in cup and bearing. The
schedule is fast to start with, but
we will make up the - minutes even
| if the goal is only 80 miles away.
The conductor signals, and slowly we
move through the city. The safety
valve on the engine is popping off,
showing that we have steam ready
for the race. Does the little mother
know? Or has her faith been so true
that she has known all the time?
Mark Winston says SO.
| But, ali! there is trouble ahead, for
! just as we are leaving the city, here
is an old freight car off the track
ahead of us at the siding. They are
working manfully to get it on again,
but minutes mean life and death now.
Five minutes gone-ten, and still the
car is not on the track. Our engineer
has gone ahead now to help them,
and we hear his voice ordering the
car overturned, and that Ray Ellis
will be responsible. A crash-the
grinding of timbers, and the car is
hurled down the embanlment. Our
bell is ringing, and old Ray, pale now
and nervous, is in the cab.
| Won can't make If old man Tbaro