The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1904-10-16
CHAPTER XIV.
The Jnnketers.

When Receiver GuilfOrd took pos
session of the properties, appurten-
ances and appendages of the seques-
tered Transwestern Railway, one of
the luxuries to which he fell heir was
private car "Naught-seven," a COM
modious hotel on wheels originally
used as the directors car of the West
ern Pacific, and later taken over by
I.oring to be put in commission as the
general managers special.
In the hands of a friendly receiver
this car became a boon to the capitol
contingent; it's observation platform
served as a shifting rostrum from
which a deep-chested executive or a
mellif1uouS Hawk often addressed adj
miring crowds at way stations, and its
dining saloon was the moving scene of
many little relaxative feasts, at which
Veuve Cliquot flowed freely, priceless
cigars were burned, and the members
of the organization unbent, each after
his kind.
But to the men of the throttle and
oil can car naught-seven, in the gift of
the hospitable receiver, shortly became
a nightmare. Like most private cars,
1t was heavier than the heaviest Pull
man, and the engineer who was con-
strained to haul 1t like a dragging an
Choir at the tail end of a fast train was
prone to say words not to be found in
any vocabulary known to respectable
philologists.
1t was in the evening of a wind
blown day, a week after Kent's visit to
CASTOR, that Engineer Red" Callahan,
oiling around for the all-night run with
the flyer on the Western division, heard
above the din and clamor of Union sta
ton noises the sullen thump betoken-
ing the addition of another car to his
train.
Now fwhat the divvle will that be?''
he rasped, pausing, torch in hand, to
apostrophize his fireman.
The answer came out of one Of the
shadows TO the rear on the lips of
McTosh, the trainmaster.
You have the Naught-seyen to-
night, Callahan, and a pretty severe
head wind. Can you make your timer"
Haven't thin bloody fools in the up
town office anything betther to do than
to tie that sivinty-ton ball-an'-chain
to my leg such a night as this?" This
is not what Callahan said; it is merely
printable paraphrase OF his rejoinder.
McTosh shook his head. He was a
hold-over from the Loring administra-
ton, not because his place was not
worth taking, but because as yet no po-
litical heller had turned UP with the
requisite. technical ability to hold it.
"I don't blame you for cussing it out"
he said: and the saying Of it was a
mark of the relaxed discipline which
was creeping into all branches of the
service. Mr.. Loring's car is anybody's
private wagon these days. Can you
make your time with her2"
mot on yer life" Callahan growled.
rs it the ovid potgutted thafe iv
rayceiver that's in herr"
YES, with Governor Bucks and par
ty of his friends. 1 take it you ought
to feel honored."
do II" snapped Callahan. IF don't
make thin junketers think they're in
the scuff Nv a cyclone whin l get thin
on the crooks beyant Dolores We can
gimme time. Misther McTosh. Where
do 1 get shut iv thim?"
"At Aqua Caliente. They are going
to the hotel at Breezeland, 1 suppose.
There is your signal to pull out
III go whin I'm dommed good an
ready" said Callahan, jabbing the
snout of his oiler into the link ma
chinery. And again McTosh let the
breach of discipline go without reproof
Breezeland Inn, the hotel at Aqua
Caliente, is a year-round resort for
asthmatics and other health seekers
with sanatorium annex which utilizes
the waters of the warm springs for
therapeutic purposes. But during the
hot months the capital and the plains
cities to the eastward send their quota
of summer idlers and the house fills
to it's capacity.
1t was for this reason that Mr..