The Greeley tribune., 1907-10-03


who was wanted.
..You have been begging for chahee
IN take out an engine. Bartholomew,
began Neighbor coldly. And l hhe" N
was on.
"Yes, sir"
.you want to get killed. Bartholo
new" ~
bartholomew smiled as il the IDEA
was not altogether displeasing.
"How would you like to go pilot 10
morrow for McCurdy? You to take the
A and run as first IS. Mccuray VIII
run as second rs"
81 know | could run an engine Ill
right" ventured Bartholomew, rs II
Neiyhbor were the only one TAKING the
chances in giving him an engine i
know the track from here to Iahes'
vile I helped McNeff fire one week y
"Then 30 home and go to bed ana
be over here at O'Clock tomorrow
morning. And sleep sound. for 1t may
be your last chance
| II was plain that the master mechan-
| ic hated to do 1t. 1t was simply sheer
necessity.
Hes Il wiper" mused Neighbor as
Bartholomew walked springily away!
II took him in here sweeping two years
ago. He ought to be firing now, bnt
the union held him back. That's why
he hates them. He knows more about
an engine now than half the lodge.
They'd better have let him in.' said
Al, .Ja
be the means of breaking their backs
vet. If give him an engine and ne
runs it, I'll never take him off. union
or no union, strike or no strike
"How old Is that boy?' asked.
Eighteen, and never Il kith or kin
that / know of. Bartholomew Mullen"
mused Neighbor as the slight figure
moved across the fat, big name
small boy. Well. Bartholomew. you'll
know something more by tomorrow
night about running an engine or q
whole lot less. That's as it happens.
If he gets killed. it's your fault. Reed"
He meant that was calling on him
for men when he absolutely couldn't
produce them.
81 heard once" he went on. "about a
fellow named Bartholomew being mix
ed up in massacre. But l take 1t he
must have been an older man than
our Bartholomew. Nor his other name
wasn't Mullen, neither. l disremem-
ber just what 1t was, but it wasn't
Mullen"
well. don't say l want to get the
hoy killed, Neighbor." l protested.
"I've plenty to answer for. I'm here
to run trains-when there are any to
run. That's murder enough for me.
You needn't send Bartholomew out on
my account"
"Give him slow schedule, and I'll
give him orders to jump early. That's
all we can do. II the strikers don't
ditch him, he'll get through some
how"
1t stuck in my crop-the idea of put
ting the boy on pilot engine to take
all the dangers ahead of that partic-
ular train But had good deal else
to think of besides. From the minute
the silk got into the McCloud yards
we posted double guards around.
About 12 o'clock that night we held
council of war, which ended in our
running the train into the out freight
house The result was that by morn
ing we had a new train made up. 1t
consisted of fourteen refrigerator cars
loaded with oranges which had come
in mysteriously the night before. 1t
was announced that the silk would be
held for the present and the oranges
rushed through. Bright and early the
refrigerator train was run down to the
ice houses. and twenty men were put
to work icing the oranges. At Z o'clock
McCurdy pulled in the local passenger
with engine 105. Our plan was to
cancel the local and run him right out
with the oranges. When he got in he
reported the 105 had sprung tire. II
knocked our scheme into cooked hat
There was a lantern jawed confer
ence in the roundhouse.
"What can you do?" asked the super
intendent in desperation.
''There's only one thing l can do
Put Bartholomew Mullen on 1t will
the A and put McCurdy to bed TO
No. 2 tonight" responded Neighbor.
We were running first In, first out
but we took care to always have some
body for and who at least knew a
injector from an air pump.
It was 8 o'clock. I looked into tn
/ locomotive stalls. The first-the only
| man in sight was Bartholomew Muller
He was very busy polishing the A. Fl
had good steam on her, and the old tn
? was wheeling as If she had the asthm
: The Al was old, she was homely, 81
8 was rickety, but Bartholomew Mule
wiped her battered nose as deferentia
e ly as IL she had been a spick-span, 81
d der driver. tail truck mail racer.
t She wasn't much-the A. But
Y those days Bartholomew wasn't muc
!, and the A was Bartholomew's.
y How is she steaming, Barthol
v mew?" sung out. He was right
i. the middle Of her. Looking up, he fi
AZ gered his waste modestly and h,ush