Morris tribune. [volume] (Morris, Minn.) 1880-2000, 1906-06-23

prodding the Mountain division, ana
part of the stuff came in late on Black
burn and part of it early on Fred, who
was almost coughing his head off about
that time, getting up at $3.50 every
morning.
Fred at o'clock took the steers and
sent them train after train through
the Rat river country like bullets out
of a Maxim gun. 1t was hot work,
and before he had sat in an hour there
was a stumble. The engineer of a big
ten wheeler pulling twenty five cars of
steers had been pushing hard and at
the entrance Of the canyon set his air
so quick he sprung one Of the driver
shoes, and the main rod hit it. The
great steel bar doubled up like a man
with a cramp. 1t was showing day
light. They made stop and, quick as
men could do it, tagged both ways.
But the last section was crowding
into the canyon right behind. They
were too close together; that was all
there was to it. The hind section split
into the standing train like a butcher
mean wreck, and, worse, it made a
lot of hard feeling at the Wickiup.
When the investigation came it was
pretty near up to Fred Norman right
from the start, and he knew it. But
Blackburn, who shielded him when he
could, just as all the dispatchers did,
because he was boy, and a sick one
among men, tried to take part of the
blame himself. He could afford it,
Blackburn. His shoulders We're broad,
and he hadn't so much as a fly speck
on his book. Bucks looked pretty
grave when the evidence was all in, and
around the second floor they guessed
that meant something for Norman.
Fred himself couldn't sleep over it,
and to cOmplicate things the engineer
of the stalled train, who hated Double
day, limited quietly that the trouble
came in the first place from Double
days newfangled idea Of putting the
driver shoes behind instead of in front
of the wheels. Then the fat was in the
fire. Fred got hold of it and, boylike,
sore over his own share in the trouble
and exasperated by something Double
day was reported to have said about
him over at the house. lighted into
Doubleday about the engine failure.
Doubleday was right in his device, as
time has proved, but it was unheard Of
then, and, moreover, the assistant mas
ter mechanic, sensitive to criticism at
m n
against. Sunday morning he and Nor
man met in the trainmasters Office
They went at each other like sparks,
and when Doubleday, who had hard
mouth, began cursing Fred the poor
little dispatcher, ranking with the
trouble, anyway half sick, went all to
pieces and flew at the big fellow like
sparroWhawk. He threw wicked left
into the master mechanic before Dou-
bleday could lift guard, but Walter
Doubleday, angry as he was, couldn't
strike Fred. He caught up both the
boys hands and pushed him, struggling
madly, back against the wall to slap
his face, when froth of blood, stained
Fred's lips, and he fell fainting. Just
at that minute Blackburn stepped into
the room.
1t wasn't the kind of a time-they
weren't the kind of men-to ask or
volunteer explanations. Blackburn was
Oh Doubleday in a wink, and before
Walter could right himself the night
dispatcher had thrown him headlong
across the room. AS the operators
rushed in Blackburn and the tall mas