The Irish standard. [volume] (Minneapolis, Minn. ;) 1886-1920, 1904-03-12
!" OLD MAN
SPECIAL"
BycuRRA.N R.eREENLEY
toopyrlsht, 1893. by. Daily. Story Pub. Co.,

ByCuRRAN r. GREENLEY :
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Copyright, 1858. by Daily Story Pub. Coz
THE division superintendent had
stretched out few inches further
on the leathern lounge in the smoker as
Jake, the porter, reported: She'll be
here in about two hours, Cap'n. The
fireman OF % done come from the sta
tion above, an he say that am de latest
wire"
Here's kettle of fish, growled BraX-
ton, the travelling auditor. Here's both
OF us that ought to be in Denver to-mor-
row morning, tied here by one leg like
Widow Malone's COW. No telling
what ducks and brakes those G. II. 4
z. L. fellows will make OF that bill if
they happen to get old man Padget in
their clutches. Trust Jimmy Atkins for
making hay while the lobby is clear
and here we are, penned up in our own
cars, the wrecling crew 40 miles away
and ten carloads of cattle and God only
knows what else, piled up on the track.
Get out of here! You'll! A black face
and Braxton collapsed into the deep
chair opposite the division superintend-
ent. who pulled away at his cigar and
watched him between shut lids, and
drawing, in his lazy, good-humored
voice: "Quiet down, Braxton. We amt
the whole road. You've got your bones
left and all your skin, and Jimmy At
kins doesn't own the legislature. If the
old man did call us in to assist in pull
ing wires, that doesn't mean that they
won't be pulled without U.S."
He sat up and looked out of the win
dow. On one side, the granite wall of
the mountain went up and up behind the
mere shelf on which the track lay liIe
asilver ribbon; on the other-far belo' ;,
a blue trail of water wound between
Ochre gorges, and already, where the
fragments of wreckage had been hurled
down, heavy winged buzzards tapped
to and fro. and the sun poured flood
of gold through the clear, thin air, while
from the smoking wreck, the noises of
hell went up and rent the sacred quiet of
the mountain as men toiled and sweated
amid the means of tortured animals
imprisoned in the burning wreckage.
Fifty yards away stood the Limited
Mail, trapped between the wreck in
front and the landslide two miles in the
rear, that had made it risky question
getting through on the upgrade, and
backing down an imposslbility.
The division superintendent yawned
1azily. He had been called from his
berth in the dead of night to stand six
hours in the bitter mountain wind di-
Eecting the demoralized train crew.
The fast freight had been making time
to Barry's, where they would switch
10 let the Limited through; when sud-
denly the great engines reared, snorted
like wild thing and plunged head
foremost into the mountainside, and
with the recoil went over and over,
carrying poor Tom Donohughe down
with her. The fireman had gone back
on the tender just before the shock
came.
Crash! Crash! A binding hor-
ror filling earth and sky as the death
cry of man and beast went up to God.
The division superintendent had
worked like a mailman, and now that the
wrecking crew would soon be on the
spot, and the searchers that went out
with the dawn, had brought Tom Dono-
hughe up the mountain and laid him in
the superintendent own berth, he felt
at peace with the world and inclined to
lbe just little impatient with Braxton.
There was something familiar about
che crag that doomed above him-and
then it all came back. "Braxton!" he
turned to where the travelling auditor
.sulked behind day-old newspaper, 81
shought this place felt natural. Here's
where l met "Old Man Special" Brax-
aon dropped the paper. "You don't mean
10 say that you share in that nonsense"
he growled.
"Mo nonsense about it. mean every
WORD of it. You have heard the boys
tell how, when this line was new, and
ahings went haphazard generally, Mad
Murphy was running the Fast Mail.
The Benson gang wrecked it one night.
and Mad Murphy was killed at his post.
nIe was to have been married the night
1that they buried him. and his girl went
ecrazy and had to be shut up in mad
Ehouse down there in Denver. 1t wasn't
more than few months after, when the
boys began to talk of seeing things, and
1t did look like Mad Murphys old en-
sgine, No. 26, was completely hoodooed.
She never went over the road but some
thing happened to her, and finally she
hrOke her neck and carried Jim Carrot
with her Off OF Dead Mans trestle, and
ffn0m the day that old engine made SCRAP
dron of herself, the queer things began
Io happen, and just as sure as man
uWas warned, there was some good rea.
sson back Of it. Tom Baynes went our
with No. % one night, and just before
he got to Grants Crossing. there was
a danger signal. He put on all the
Brakes and brought her to a standstil
mot ten feet from two rails spiked acros:
the track; but there was never sign OF
token of the man that set that DANCE
signal, and there was no lantern there
a MiD-WINTER PIPE DREAM.
- oil IN ~ ".