The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1903-12-06

'Oh. yes, sir--if Neighbor doesn't care"
smiled. He didn't know who Neighbor
took orders from; but he thought, evil
IDENTIFY. not from me.
Then run her down to the oranges and
couple on. Bartholomew, and Wen order
ourselves out Seer"
The A really looked like a baby-carriage
when we got her in front of the refrigera-
tors! However, after the necessary pre-
liminaries, We gave a very sporty toot and
pulled out. In a few minutes we were
rolling down the valley.
For fifty miles We bobbed along with our
cargo OF feed silk as easy old shoes! for
need hardly explain that we had packed
the silk into the refrigerators to confuse
the strikers. The great risk was that they
should try to ditch us.
I was watching the track as a mouse
would cat. looking every minute for
trouble. We cleared the gumbo cut west Of
the Beaver at a pretty good clip in order to
make the grade the other side The
bridge there is hidden in the summer by a
grove of hackberries. 1 had just pulled
open to cool her bit when noticed how
high the backwater was on each side of the
track. Suddenly 1 felt the I'LL going soft
under the drivers-felt the A wobbe hard
and threw the air as I sprang to the win
dow. The peaceful little creek ahead looked
as angry as the Platte in April water, and
the bottoms were lake.
Somewhere up the valley there had been
a cloudburst, for overhead the sun was
bright. The Beaver was roaring it's banks
and the bridge was out. Bartholomew
screamed for brakes; 1T looked as though
we were against it-and hard.
A soft track to stop on, torrent of
storm water ahead, and ten hundred thous-
and dollars worth of silk behind-not to
mention equipment.
yelled at Bartholomew and motioned for
him to jump; my conscience is clear on
that point. The A was stumbling along,
trying. like drunken man, to hang to the
rotten track.
bartholomew" I yelled: but he was
head out and looking back at his train,
while he jerked frantically at the air lever.
1 understood; the air wouldn't work: 1t
never will on those old tubs when you need
1t. The sweat pushed out on me. was
thinking of how much the silk would bring
US after bath in the Beaver. Bartholo-
NEW stuck to his levers like a man in
closer to open water Watching him, in
tent on saving his first train. Needless of
saving his life, was really bit ashamed
to jump. While I hesitated he somehow
got the brakes to set; the old A bucked
like bronco.
1t wasn't too soon. She checked her train
nobly at the last but 1 saw nothing could
keep her from the brink. I caught Bar
tholomew terrific slap, and again 1
yelled: then, turning to the gateway,
dropped into the soft mud on my side. The
"A hung low and it was easy lighting.
Bartholomew sprang from his seat a Sec
ond later, but his blouse caught in the
teeth of the quadrant. He stopped quick
as thought and peeled the thing over his
head. But then he was caught with his
hands in the wristbands and the ponies of
A tipped over the broken abutment
Pull as he would he couldn't get free. The
pilot dipped into the torrent slowly; but,
losing her balance, the "A kicked her heels
into the air like lightning and shot with
frightened wheeze plump into the creek,
dragging her engineer after her.
The head car stopped on the brink. Run
ming across the track looked for Barthoi-
omew. He wasn't there. I knew he must
have gone down with his engine.
Throwing off my gloves l dove just as l
stood. close to the tender, which hung half
submerged. / am good bit Of fish under
water, but no self-respecting fish would be
caught in that yellow mud. I realized, too,
the instant struck the water, that / should
have dived on the upstream side. The cur
rent took me away whirling. When 1 came
up for air was fifty feet below the pier. I
felt 1t was all up with Bartholomew as I
scrambled out; but, to my amazement, as
I shook my eyes open, the train crew were
running forward and there stood Barthol-
omew on the track above me, looking at the