The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-09-13

the Overland freight, and No. rs crew, as
they pulled out of Toltec to climb the loop
could plainly see. above and across, the
storming, struggling, choking engines of
the tea train they neared with their
load the summit of Eagle Pass.
The wind bore down to them in breaking
waves, the sucking. roaring cut of the
quivering furnaces Pat Francis stood in
the open door of the baggage car, old John
Parker and the head brakeman beside him,
| looking together at the freight with the
| absorbed air of men at the bottom of a
well who watch the loaded bucket near the
| top.
| Through the thin clear mountain air
| they could almost read the numbers on
| the engine tenders. They could see the
| freight conductor start over his train for
the head-end, and as they looked they saw
his train break in two behind him, and the
rear end, parting like a snakes tail,
slough off, lose Roadway, and roll back
| down the hill. The hind-end brakeman,
darling from the caboose, ran up the ladder
| like cat, and began setting brakes. The
passenger crew saw the brake-shoes clutch
| in flame at the slipping trucks, but the
drawbars couldn't stand it. From one of
a
| tooth. The tea train again broke in two,
| this time behind the rear brakeman, and the
| caboose, with five Go,00O-pound cars, shot
down the grade. and No. 2 was now climb
| ing above Toltec.
| volley of danger signals curled white
| from the freight engine across the gulf
Pat Francis sprang for the bell cord, but
| it was needless; his engineers at the very
-
| the wheels.
| 1t caught cards off the whist tables.
| and swept baked potatoes into the bosoms
of astonished diners; 1T spoiled the point
of pretty jokes and broke the tedium Of
| stupid stories; it upset roysterers and
staggered sober men; it basted the cooks
with gravy and the walters with fruit; it
sent the blood to the hearts and a chill to
| the brains; il was an emergency stop, and a
severe one--No. 2 was against it. Before
the frightened porters could open the YES
tibules the passenger engines were work.
ing in the back motion and No. was
scuttling down the Moose to get away
from impending disaster. The trainmen
huddled again in the baggage car door,
the Moose is so perfect curve that every
a race backwards to save the passenger
train, but every mile they could crowd into
its wheels the runaways were making two.
Pat Francis saw it first-saw it before
they had covered half the distance back to
Toltec. They could never make the hill
west of the Moose; it wasn't in steam to
beat gravity. Moreover. if they crowded
No. too hard she might fly an elevation,
and go into. the gulf. 1t is one thing to run
down hill and another thing to fall down
hill. The tea train was falling down hill
Francis turned to bare-headed John
Parker and handed him his watch and his
money.
What do you mean?" John Parker
choked the words out, because he knew
what he meant
Turn this stuff In to Bucks, John, If
don't make it. It's all company money"
The brakeman, greenish and dazed
steadied himself with a hand on the jamb
the baggageman stared wild-eyed through
his rusty lenses. Pat" he faltered
what do you mean?'
"Ill drop off at the Toltec switch and
may be 1 can open it to catch that string
we'll never make it this way, John, in
Gods world"
"You might Almost as well jump out
into the canyon; you'll never live to use
switch key, Pat-were crowding a mile a
minute
Francis looked at him steadily as he
pulled his ring and took a switch key off
the bunch.
They're crowding 2, JOHN
The car slued under them. John Parker
tore off his spectacles.
Pat, I'm a lighter man than you-give
me the switch-key.' he cried, gripping the
conductors shoulder as he followed him
out the door to the platform.
mo"
"Your children are younger than mine,
Pat. Give me the key
This is my train, John. Ask Bucks
to look after my insurance"
With these words Francis tore the old
mans hand roughly away. When a minute
is a mile action is quick Sixty, seventy
seconds more meant the Toltec switch. and
the conductor already hung from the bot
tom step of the baggage car.
Pat Francis was built like a gorilla. He
swung with his long arms in and out from
the Keeling train into rhythm, one foot
dangling in the suck of dust and cinders,
the other bracing lightly against the step
tread. Then, with the switch key in his
mouth, with Parker's thin hair streaming
over him, and whirlwiDd sucking to the
wheels under him, with No. rs drivers
racing above him and hundred passengers
staring below him, Pat Francis let go.
Men in the sleepers, only half understand
ing, saw as he disappeared burst of alkali
along the track. Only old John Parker's
gray eye could see that his conductor
though losing his feet, had rolled clear of
the trucks and drivers, and was tumbling
I'm the storm center like porcupine- Above
him the tea cars were lurching down the
grade Old John, straining. saw Francis
stagger TO his feet and double back like
jack-knife on his ballast. A lump jumped
into the baggagemans throat, but Fran
ciss head rose again out OF the dust: he
raised again on his hands. and dragging