Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1906-06-26


the headlight bursts streaming from
the black walls, and Moore on the S11,
or Mullen with the S18, or Hawksworth
I'm the ITO. tear with fury Of alkal
and q sweep Of noise over the Butte
switch, past caboose and fats and
boxes and the 264 like fading light.
Just sweep of darkened glass and
dead varnish, whirl Of smoking
trucks beating madly at the fishplates,
and the fast train Is up and out and
gone!
Twenty-nine, local, was used to all
this. Used to the vanishing toll lights,
the measured sinking Of the sullen dust,
the silence brooding again over the
desert with, this night, fifteen minutes
more to wait for the eastbound stock
train before they dared open the switch.
Maize Sampson killed the time by going
back to the cabOOse to talk equities
with the conductor. 1t was no trick
for him to put away fifteen minutes
discussing the rights Of man with him.
self: and with an angel Of n fireman
to watch the cab, why not? The 264
standing OH the siding was chewing her
cud as sweet as an old cow, with may
be no pounds of steam to the right OF
the dial, maybe 150-I say maybe, be-
cause no one but DelaroO ever knew
when the sheep train whistled.
Sheep-nothing but sheep. Car after
car after car, rattling down from the
short line behind two spanking big
engines. They whistled, hoarse rs pi-
rates, for the Butte siding, and, rising
the hill mile west Of 1t, bore down the
grade throwing Dannah coal from both
stacks like hydraulic gravel.
No one knew or ever will know how
1t happened. They cat hauled men Oh
the carpet week about that switch
The crew of the Moulton special testi'
fed, the crews Of the stock train testi.
fed. Maize Sampson testified. his con
ductor and both brakemen testified,
the roadmaster and the section boss
each testified, and their men testified
but however or what it was, whether
the Moulton special fractured the
tongue, or whether the pony of the lead
engine flew the guard, or whether the
switch had been opened, or whether, In
closing, the slip rail had somehow fall
| ed to follow the rod. the double headed
stockcr went into that Butte switch,
into that Butte siding, into the peace
able old 2G4 and the 90, local, like a
lyddite shell. crashing, rearing, ripping.
scattering two whole trains into blood
and scrap. Destruction, madness,
throes, death. silence; then pyre Of
dirty smoke wall of sickening bleats
and scream of Kissing steam over
1000 sheep caught in the sudden sham
bles
There was frightened crawling out OF
the shattered cabooses, hurrying up
| of the stunned crews and bewilder-
ing count of heads. Both engine crews
Of the stock train had jumped as their
train split the switch. The train crews
were badly shaken. The head brake
man of the sheep train lay torn In the
barbed wire fencing the right Of way,
but only one man was missing, the fire.
man of 30, Delaroo.
Second SO jumped west switch pass'
ing track and went into train 20, en-
gine 26i. Bad spill. Delaroo, fireman
the 264, missing" wired Sugar Buttes
to Medicine Bend few minutes later.
Neighbor got up there by 10 o'clock
with both roadmasters and the wreck
ing outfit. 1t was dark as canyon on
the desert that night. Benedict Nor
gan's men tore splintered car timber
| from the debris and on the knolls back
Of the siding lighted heaping bonfires
that threw light all night on the
dread pile smoking on the desert. They
dug by the fame Of the fires at the
ghastly heap till midnight. Then the
moon rose, an extra crew arrived from
the Bend, and they got the derrick at
work. Yet with all the toll when day
broke the confusion looked worse con-
founded. The main line was so hope
lessly blocked that at daylight special
with ties and steel was run in to lay
a temporary track around the wreck.
"What do think Of it?' muttered
Neighbor, when the local operator ask
ed him for report for Callahan. Il
think there's two engines for the scrap
in sight-and the 264. IL we can ever
find anything Of her-and about a mil
lion sheep to pay for Neighbor paus'
ed to give an order and survey the
frightful scene.
"And Delaroo." repeated the operator
"He wants to know about Delaroo"-
missing"
| At dawn hot coffee was passed
among the wreckers. and shortly after
sunrise the McCloud gang arrived with
the second derrick. Then the men OF
the night took hold with new grip to
get into the heart Of the pile; to find-if
be was there-Delaroo.
None Of the McCloud gang knew the
man they were hunting for, but the
men from the Bend were soon telling
them about Maze Simpsons Indian.
NOL u uulc uVu uo eNeA 6o'St Aos
piece Of tobacco he ever passed, not
brief word he ever spoke to one OF
the battered old hulks who rode and
cut and slashed and stormed and drank
and cursed with Benedict Morgan,
was forgotten then. Every slowed,
twisted, weather beaten, crippled up
gin shiyered old wreck of wrecker-
they were hard men-had something to
say about Delaroo. And with their
hair matted and their faces streaked
and their shirts daubed and their ell
bows in blood, they said it-whatevel
It was, much or little-of DelarOo.
i, The picks swung, the derricks creak
ed, and all day with the heaving and
the calling they toiled, but the SUI
!. was sinking before they got to the
middle of 1t. Then Benedict Morgan
crawling under the drivers Of the hind
mogul, partly uncovered, edged ou1
with a set face; he swore he heard
breathing. 1t was alcohol to the veins
Of the double gang. Neighbor himself
went in and heard-and stayed to
| fasfan EraDple to pull the engine