The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1906-07-05


sweep'acr the roadway. 1t picked
her up and threw her against the rail.
and left her doubled up, groaning with
pain and fright. Clinging, slipping,
edging her way along. Stella reached
the foot of the iron ladder and that
led 70 the engine house. Her courage
! hickered and was almost gone. How
could she muster strength to climb
She would be blown away even if her
own weight did not drag her wearied
hands from the slippery rungs.
| She was never able to recall how
! she made the ascent, but somehow
she found herself tugging at the en-
gine room door. She stumbled inside
and lay there, painting and sobbing.
When she was able to grope her
way in the shadows round what
seemed like an empty room, a great
fear clutched at her heart. She re-
memhered where the lamps were kept,
/ and found matches beside them. The
| light showed her what looked like a
| bundle of old clothes doubled in cor
ner. She ran to it and found that it
| was her father. who turned little
and groaned. a pail Of water was on
| ;he table, and she dashed it into his
pale face, which was streaked with
| crimson. He raised his han6. to his
head, and she strove to help him, but
his weight was too great for her to
move.
Presently the engineer muttered
brohenly:
"Stela, is that you? went up on
the roof-alout four e'clock-to tight
Ell the whistle valve. Blowing hard,
my head went qucer-I slipped and
fell down to the platform. Must have
crawled inside-all 1 remember"
His daughter put his overcoat under
his head, and bathed the cash between
the matted hair. She could on'y whis-
per through her tears:
you're all right now, daddy. I'll
take care of you.'
O'Connell was silent for moment,
! and then made a mighty struggle to
raise himself, but sank back with c
hoarse cry of fear:
"The sharEies haven't been through
yet! Who'll turn the draw"
She sprang to the window with
strength revived. and looked down the
harbor. The driving rain had lifted,
and the angry sunset broke through
! the curta!ning clouds. There was light
enough for her to catch glimpse of
tossing bits of sail, hardly to be told
from the ragged breakers On the skF-
,, line. She had not played on this
bridge through five years to learn moth
ing Of the ways Of sharpies and their
shippers. The feet was driving home
before the gale, carrying no more than
rags of canvas, trusting that the
bridge would swing in time to let them
through. II it die not: She knew
that these open boats would swamp it
they were forced to come afout in SUCH
a sea as this.
Stella shuddered end lookeI down
at her helpless father. The agony in
his eyes told her that he, too. realized
the crisis. "Open the drafts!"' he NUT
tered. "Steam's got low"
She toiled st the furnace doors and
dampers as she had seen him do so
often. Turning toward him, breath
less, for further instructions, Stella
saw that his head bad fallen back.
He was again unconscious. Whatever
was done, she must do "Ione. The
pointer on the steam gage fickered
and began to move upward, ever so
slowly.
She went to the seaTa-d window.
The shar)-es we're rushing toward her
as if they were winged. They leaped
into sight an. then were swallowed
between the reeling combers. If they
drove straight at the closed bridge and
it failed to open, it Iaeant wreck and
collision and many lives lost, an awful
welter tof helpless men and broken
boats.
Stella turned the steam pipe valve.
She cried aloud with joy when the
steam hissed into the pistons, and then
she tugged at the starting lever. The
great cog wheels Of the turning gear
began to move, like :: sullen giant. In
the closing dusk, the storm swept shar-
pies were lunging toward the bridge,
hardly a quarter of mile away. She
closed her eyes for an instant in pant
ing little prayer, and the draw trem-
bled as it obeyed the master call OF
! the engine.
She feared to hear the crash Of
swapping masts and the cries Of drown
ing men. Yes, the draw was swinging.
She clamped the lever down, and
snatched a moment to press her face
| against the pane. The fleeing oyster
men were trying to luff off little as
they saw the draw move slower than
usual. The deep laden sharpies yawed
wildly, and Stella caught her breath
in laboring gasps. Would they make
lit? Would the draw ever open?
Then the long arr. of the bridge
| , p,loo1- ,on of fGr tho forp-