The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1904-06-29
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l-A- l had been left quite a com
G !B Portable little sum-, and
hau at once started out to see the
world, being at last able to satisfy my
craving for travel to its full extent
and having nc parental ties to hold
me to any one particular spot of the
worlds circumference.
But l had somewhat overdone the
thing, not being possessed of a consti-
tuition that would stand much Of a
strain. So I had settled down at Las
Vegas to take things quietly for a
while, before going further.
It was on the evening OF October y,
1896, that the news was circulated in
the town that there had been an aW-
full wreck on the Santa Fee just below
Watrous. A special was rapidly made
up Of an engine and two coaches. and
the call made for volunteers to assist
in Nny way that their services could
be of value. I made one Of the num-
Der that promptly responded, and has
tily clambering aboard, We started for
the scene.
1 shall never forget that distressing
sight, as, reaching the spot, we ieaped
to the ground almost before the train
had slackened speed sufficiently to
make it safe to human life and limb to
.alight. There lay a tangled mass Of
wood and iron piled in heaps, from
which came means and cries from the
imprisoned passengers and crews. One
of the forward coaches, together with
the mail and express car, was in
flames. While part of the impro-
vised wrecking crews gave their atten-
ton to helping the poor unfortunateS
in the passenger coaches, others of us
started in to save what part of the
mail and express cars valuable con-
tents still remained out Of the reach
of the tongues of the flames rapidly
drawing nearer the end OF the car
farthest from the engine. I was one
Of those who started to work on this
car. and Justify I began to pull out the
sacks of mail and what merchandise
could be reached through the tremen-
uOuS ueGl llOu Tue DululuS Cuo Va ~
car.
The last sack of mail vas not
snatched away in time to prevent half
its length being burned away entire.
I had hold Of the leather handles and
gave q fearful tug, for the heat was
now unbearable. For a minute the bag
held to some object that weighted it
down, then gave suddenly. landing me
backwards, while a shower of letters
and small packages completely COW
cred me.
After we had done all we could to
save the contents of the car. and taken
the last man from the twisted coaches,
we started back to Las Vegas with our
mangled, suffering human freight.
1t was after one o'clock when we ar
rived, and had tenderly carried the suf-
ferers to the nearest point where they
could receive medical and surgical at
t%ention, and, being quite fatigued with
my unusual eXertion, I crawled into
bed and slept soundly until the SUI
had arisen high in the heavens the
next day.
Being nearly dressed. I reached for
my vest, when something fluttered to
the floor. Picking it up I was sur
prised to find a half burned photo
graph. Evidently it had been caught
in my clothing in some way when the
mail bag scattered its contents over
me as I lay upon the ground, and.
when I arose to my feet. had slipped
between my vest and shirt. I said it
was a half burned photograph, but
that does not tell much. 1t was the
photograph of a beautiful young lady.
perhaps eighteen years Of age. Beau
tiful? The most beautiful, 1 think. l
had ever seen.
I sat down in my half dressed state
and stared at it for many long min
utes. And before I had finished star
ing at that beautiful image I had to
confess to myself that I was helpleSSly
in love with the pretty. rounded face,
with its smiling eyes looking up so
confidently into mine, that shapely,
tempting mouth with its saucy, curling
lips. that wealth of lastly arranged
hair thrown back over the high fore
head.
Who was she? I cursed the flames
that had totally eaten away the part
of the card that might have given
some clue as to whom the photograph
err had been. or in what place the pho
tograph had been taken. If I could
only know what town or city it would
be enough. I would go at once to the
place and search every artists estab-
lishment until I had found some trace
of my ideal.
Up to this time I had bothered but
little about But here was a
dear little girl whose eyes looked up
into mine so smilingly, so c~onfdingly,
so pleadingly.. that my heart ached to
have them something more than i'm
ages OH paper, to have those lips open
and speak to me. to have those dainty
little ears capable of listening while I
poured my story of complete slavery
into them: all. I was hopelessly in love,
and I did not know with whom. With
a photograph! 4 photograph. tossed
at my very feet. coming to me by such
a strange channel. to tease me, to
agonize me, to craze me.
And then the thought came to me-
that to every photograph there must
necessarily be two sides. Perhaps the
reverse side would tell me something;
a new hope. l held the photograph,
and my fingers trembled and my heart
beat fHriorSlY fnlrin~ to turn it that