The Havre herald. [volume] (Havre, Mont.) 1904-1908, 1907-04-05

It was not Dads habit to ask ques-
tons, but ha looked at the man in ques-
tionlng amazement. Reynolds choked
and caught at his breath as he seized
the engineers arm and pointed down
the line.
"Dad," he gasped, "three cars Of coal
standing over there on the second spur
blew loose few minutes agor'
"Where are they?'
"Where are they? Blown through
the switch and down the line forty
miles an hour
The old man grasped the frightened
man by the shoulder. "What do you
mean? How long ago? When is 1
due? Talk quick, man! What's the
matter with your"
"Not five minutes ago. No. is due
here in less than thirty minutes. They'll
go into her sure. Dad" cried Reyn-
olds, all In a fright, "what'll I do?
For heavens sake, do something!
called up Riverton and tried to catch
1, but she'd passed. I was too late.
There'll be a wreck, and I'm booked
for the penitentiary. What can do?'
All the while the station agent, panic
stricken, ratified on Sinclair was look
ing at his watch, casting it up, charting
it all under his thick, gray, grizzled
wool, fast as thought could compass.
No. headed for Acton, and her pace
was hustle every mile Of the way
three cars of coal bowling down on
her, how fast he dared not think, and
through it all he was asking himself
what day it was. Thursday? Up!
Yes, George, his boy, was on the f1ier
No. 1. It was his day up. If they met
on a curve
"Uncouple herw roared Dad Sinclair
in giant tone.
"What are you going to do?"
"Burns," Numbered Dad to his fire.
man, "give her steam, and quick, boy!
Dump in grease, waste, oil, everything!
Are YOU clear there?' he cried, open
ing the throttle as he looked back.
The old engine, pulling clear Of her
coaches, quivered as she gathered her
self under the steam. She leaped ahead
with swish. The drivers churned in
the sand, bit into it with gritting tires
and forged ahead with a suck and a
hiss and roar. Before Reynolds had
fairly gathered his wits Sinclair, leav-
ing his train on the main track in front
Of the depot, was Gathering over the
switch after the runaways. The wind
was terror, and they had too good a
start. But the way Soda Water Sal
took the gait when she once felt her
feet under her made the wrinkled en-
gineer at her throttle set his mouth
with the grimness Of a gamester. 1t
meant the runaways-and catch them
Or the ditch for Soda Water SAL and
the throbbing old machine seemed tc
know it, for her nose hung to the steel
like the snout of a pointer.
He was q man Of a hundred even
then-Burns-bu nobody knew it then
We hadn't thought much about Burns
before. He was tall, lank Irish boy
with an open face and a morning
smile. Dad Sinclair took him on be
cause nobody else would have him
Burns was so green that Foley SAID
you couldn't set his name afre. He
would, so Foley said, put out hot box
just by blinking at it.
But every mans turn comes once
and it had come to Burns. It was Dicl
Burns chance now to show what man
ner Of stuff was bred in his long Irisl
bones. 1t was his task to make the
steam-if he could-faster than Dat
Sinclair could burn 1t. What use tt
grip the throttle and scheme If Burns
didn't furnish the power, put the life
into her heels as she raced the wind
the merciless, restless gale sweeping
over the prairie faster than horse coulC
fly before it?
Working smoothly and swiftly into {
dizzy whirl, the ~monstrous drivers tool
the steel in leaps and bounds. Dad Sin
clair, leaning from the cab window
gloatingly watched their gathering
speed, pulled the bar up notch aftel
notch, and fed Burns fire into the ole
engines arteries fast and faster thar
she could throw it into her steel hoofs.
That was the night the West Enc
knew that a greenhorn had cast hi:
chrysalis and stood out man-knev
| that the honor roll Of our frontier Iii
vision wanted one more name, ant
that it was big Dick Burns. Sinclai
hung silently desperate to the throttle
his eyes straining into the night ahead
and the face of the long Irish boy
streaked with smut and channelet
with sweat, lit every minute with thu
glare Of the furnace as he fed tn
white hot blast that leaped and curlet
and foamed under the crown sheet o
Soda Water Sal.
There he stopped and sweat ant
swung as she slowed and lurched an.
jerked across the fish plates. Carefully
nursingly, ceaselessly he pushed tn
steam pointer higher, higher, higher OF
the dial-and that despite the tremen
dous drafts Of Dads throttle.
Never a glance to the right or tn
left, to the track or the engineer From