Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-09-12

schemed. and now a month of good
weather would put the finishing touches
preparatory upon the motion" limited at
in the letter to FriSbie.
"Thatll do, boys; we'll let Gallagher
hit it a few times now" lie sang out.
when he saw that the weaker ones among
the shovelers were stumbling numbly and
throwing wild. Get back to the car and
thaw yourselves out
The safety valve of the DOG was stutter-
ing under gratifying increase of steam
pressure when the superintendent climbed
20 the s-shrouded cab.
"Ha, two hundred and fifty pounds.
That looks a little more like it. Michael.
Now get all the run you can and hit her
straight from the shoulder he ordered.
mounting to his seat on the fireman's box
and bracing himself for what should
come.
Gallagher released the driver brakes
and let the 2O6 and the pillow drift down
the grade until his tender drawhead
touched the laborers car. Then the re-
versing lever went forward with a clang
and the steam squealed shrilly in the dry
pipe. For a thunderous second or two
the driving wheels slipped and whirled
futilely on the snowy rails. Gallagher
bounced upon the sand lever. whereat
the tires suddenly bit and held. and a
lonG-drawn. fire-tearinS exhaust sobbed
from the stack.
you've got herr shouted Ford. Now
hit t--ht it hard.
Swiftly the huge mass of engine and
pillow gathered Roadway. the pounding eX-
hausts quickening until they blended in a
continuous roar. The little 1rishman
STAYED himself with a foot against the
boiler brace: the fireman ducked under
the canvas curtain and clung TO the coal
bulkhead. and Ford held on as he could.
The shock came like the crashing blow
of collision The box pillow buckled and
groaned with fine cracklings as of hard
tys,iy, nod fr,,bn 10 r,nhn of
snow thrown up from its inclined plane
buried engine and cab and tender in a
smotherng drift. Ford slid his window
and looked out
Good work, Michael; good work, You
gained a full car length that time Try
il again.
Gallagher backed the plow carefully out
of the cutting. and the fireman opened
the blower and nursed his fire. Again
and again the wheeled projectile was
hurled into the obstruction. and Ford
watched the steadily retrograding finger
of the steam gauge anxiousy. Would
the pressure suffice for the final dash
which should clear the cutting? Or
would they have to stop and turn out the
wretched shovelmen again?
The answer came with the fourth drive
into the stubborn barrier. There was
the same nerve-racking shock of impact.
but now the recOil was followed by a
second forward plunge. and Gallagher
yelled his triumph when the BOG burst
through the remaining lesser drifts and
shot away on the clear track beyond.
Ford drew a long breath of relief and
the engineer checked the speed of the
runaway. stopped and started back to
couple on the carload of laborers.
Ford swung around and put his back
to the open window.
Let's hope that is the worst of it and
the last of it for this winter, Mike, he
said. speaking as man to man. Il believe
the weather will break before we have
any more snow. and next year
The pause was long that Gallagher
took his chance of filling it.
Don't be tellin' me the big boss has
promised us rotary for next winter.
Misther Foord. That'd be too good TO be
thrue. I'm thinking.
mo. but next winter you'll be doing
one of two things, Michael. You will be