The star. (Reynoldsville, Pa.) 1892-1946, 1909-11-03


Of my thrtieth year People say that
l look odd with almost snow white
hair and wonder how 1t came to he
thus to one so young.
Eight years ago on the Goth of this
very month stood mt the altar with
Laura Comstock.
was Il telegraph operator and was
stationed at Wayburg. station twen.
ty miles from Stockton.
Returning from our honeymoon, left
my wife at Stockton and proceeded to
Wayburg. The engineer on the up
train was Mark Moore. Il rather hand
some young fellow. who had been my
rival.
Whes the train stopped at More
lands | aighted from the passenger
coach and walked forward to the en-
glne. Mark was busily engaged oiling
the machinery.
"IIow are you, Morgan" he said rs
he espied me and held out his hand.
His disappointment seemed to have
left him. Going to Woyburg:"
"Yes."
"Just get in with me, then" hr said
| replied that | would do So. and
when the train moved away | was
occupying seat in the engine.
"One hardly notices the ascent. but
the descent is an entirely different
thing" said Mark 81 was thinking.
Morgan. what terrible thing 1t would
be If an engine with full power on
were TO become unmanageable at the
top OF the grade and dash away"
The following night was dark and
tempestuous, and ! alone occupied the
station. That day new engine had
arrived, and Mark Moore had been
put In charge of 1t. From 9 o'clock
in the afternoon to 3 I saw him NOV.
| ing about the engine. Until 10 |
watched. Then Mark opened the door
and stepped into the small apartment
"Are you receiving a dispatch, Nor
gan?' he asked.
mo, Mark. why do you ask?'
Because If you are not wish you
would leave the clickers bit and
come and look at my Red Bird by Ian
tern light | am going to run down
grade to Chalmers, reverse the engine
and run back. The train will not be
due here for an hour, and can go to
Chalmers a"d return within twenty
minutes"
We walked into the great temporary
shed where the new engine stood.
81 dare not be so long absent from
/ nv most nt tbic bp,Ir Mori.
He put his lantern on the ground and
| then sprang erect.
"You SHALL MOrg Grenoble." he cried.
| and before could answer him he
| dashed me to the earth and planted his
knees on my breast.
"Not word out of you, Morg," he
said fiercely. pinioning my arms and
| legs with rope. "Ilf tell you what
Pm going to do. You know we were
| discussing the consequences attending
the rush of maddened engine down
the grade. reckon l won't go to
Chalmers, but will send you clear to
the bottom Of the grade"
mark Moore, you are mad" said.
"Would you murder me In cold blood
and others who are coming up ON the
11:10 passengers"
"Yes," he said coldly.
'"There" he said at last as he closed
the furnace door. Everything is ready
for your ride. You'll go right through
Stockton, but reckon you won't have
time to stop to speak to loving Laura
Goodby, Morg."
The engine was moving, and he
leaped off.
"May heaven have mercy on your
soul, Mark Moorev' l shouted after
him.
The grade between Wayburg and
Chalmers was quite steep, and before
reached the little town the speed of the
Red Bird and its tender seemed to RI
val that Of the telegraph.
The manner in which was bound
permitted me to look out of the win
dow.
did so, and Stockton, the home of
my wife, greeted me with its many
lights. 80 l...
Ahead i saw many people. waiting
for the 11:10 passenger. zee,
The next moment was carried past
them.
There was one hope for me-just
one.
Perhaps the operator at Stockton had
telegraphed down the grade, and, thus
warned, the coming train would switch
and save its passengers from death.
Looking out, saw far ahead the
glaring headlight of the southern train.
To me it looked as though 1t stood
on my track. Evidently the train had
not been warned.
Suddenly heard a man shout,
"Stand back!" and then-crash-all was
dark!
rs he injured much" somebody
asked.
Sympathizing faces bent over me,
and q surgeon was examining my
wounds.
"The ties stopped the engine" said
the surrpOn I'VE recpiyed n tple-