The Washington times., 1904-01-02

A RAILWAY NOVEL

tumbling it in. The operation is thus
pictured:
In the canyon it was already dark
Men were eating around camphres, and
In the narrow strip of eastern sky be-
tween the walls the moon was rising.
work trains with signal lanterns were
moving above and below the break,
dumping ballast behind the track lay
ers. AT safe distance from the COM
ing blast a dozen headlights from the
roundhouse were being prepared, and
the car-tinks from Sleepy Cat were
rigging torches for the night
The blasting powder. in twenty-pound
cans. was being passed from hand to
hand TO the chargers. Score after score
OF the compact cans of high explosive
had been packed into the scattered
holes, and as If alive to what was COM
ing. the chill air of the canyon took on
the uneasiness of an atmosphere laden
with electricity. Men of the operating
department paced the bench impatient
ly. and trackmen, working below, in the
flare of scattered torches, looked no
oftener from their shoveIs to where a
chain of active figures moved on the
face of the cliff Word passed again
and again that the charging was done,
but the orders came steadily from the
gloom on the ledge for more powder.
until the last pound the engineer called
for had been buried beneath his feet
in the sleeping rock.
After a long delay q red light swung
slowly to and fro on the ledge. From
the extreme end of the canyon below
the Cats Paw came the crash of a
track torpedo. answered almost instant
~ by a second. above the break. 1t was
the warning signal to get into the clear.
There was a buzz and rapid movement
among the laborers. In twos and threes
and dozens. a ragged procession OF Ian
terms and torches. they retreated. fore
men urging the laggard, until only a
single man at each end Of the broken
track kept within sight of the tiny red
lantern on the ledge. Again it swung
in q circle and again the torpedoes re-
piled, this time all clear. The hush Of
hundred voices. the silence OF the
bars and shovels and picks gave back
TO the chill canyon it's loneliness. and
the roar of the river rose undisturbed
to the brooding night.
ION the ledge Glover was alone. The
final detail ne was taking into his own
hands. The few that could still com
mand the point saw the red light NOV
ing, and beside it a figure vaguely out
lined making its way. When the red
light Daused a spark could be seen. a
spluttering blaze would run slowly
from it. hesitate. flare and die. Another
and another of the fuses were touched
and passed With quickening steps tier
after tier was covered. until those look
ing saw the red light flung at last into
the air. 1t circled high between the
canyon walls in its flight and dropped
like rocket into the Rat A muffied re-
port from the lower tier was followed
by a heavier and still a heavier one
above. a creeping panS shot the heart
Of the granite, Il dreadful awakening
was upon il.
From the tier OF the upmost holes
came at length the terrific burst of the
heavy mines. The travail of an awful
instant followed The face OF the spur
Parted from its side, toppled an ir-
slant in the confusion OF its rending.
and with an appalling crash fell upon
the river below"
The -chara cter work is IS good as the
description, but no one who has read
the stories OF HALEY, Of Jimmie the
Wind. OF McTerza, and of Bucks.
needs to be told that fact Loco
motive headlights. signal flares. and the
eternal stars dance through the tale
as they do in the window of a night
train. II is great story CNew York
Charles Scribner's SOnsD