Audubon Republican. [volume] (Audubon, Iowa) 1894-1925, 1912-10-24
CHAPTER xxxvII.
Down Brakes!

Down Brakes!
Just as Kathleen flung her head in
baffled vexation, and Mallory started
to stink back to Marjorie, with an
other defeat, there came an abrupt
shock as if that gigantic child to
whom our railroad trains are toys,
had reached down and laid violent
hold on the Trans-American in full
career.
It's smooth, swift flight became sud-
denly such spasm Of jars, shiyers
and thuds that Mallory cried:
Were off the track"
He was sent Topping down the aisle
like bolster hurled through the car.
He brought up with a sickening slam
across the seat into which Marjorie
had been jounced back with a breath
taking slam. And then Kathleen
came flying backwards and landed In
a heap on both of them.
Several of the other passengers
were just returning from breakfast
and they were shot and scattered all
over the car as IL a great chain OF hui
man beads had burst.
Women screamed, men yelled, and
then while they were still struggling
against the seats and one another, the
train came to halt.
Thank God, we stopped in time!"
Mallory gasped, as he tried to olsen
gage himself and Marjorie from Kath-
leen.
The passengers began to regain
their courage with their equilibrium.
Little Jimmie Wellington had flown
the whole length of the car, clinging
to his wife as II she were Francesca
da Rimini, and he Paolo, fitting
through Inferno. The fight ended at
the stateroom door with such thunp
that Mrs. Fosdick was sure a deteca
tive had come for her at last, and
with battertng ram.
But when Jimmie got back breath
enough to talk, he remembered the,
train-stopping excitement OF the day
before and called out:
HAS Mrs. Mallory lost that pup
again."
Everybody laughed uproariously at
this. People will laugh at anything
or nothing. when they have been
frightened almost to death and SUD
denly relieved Of anxiety.
Everybody was cracking joke at
Marjorie's expense. Everybody felt
good-natilred grudge against her for
being such a mystery. The car was
ringing with hilarity, when the por-
ter came stumbling in and paused at
the door, with eyes all white, hands
waving frantically, and lips Tapping
like flannel, in vain effort to speak.
The passengers stopped laughing at
Marjorie, to laugh at the porter. Ash
ton sang out:
What's the matter with you, por-
ter? Are you trying to crown"
everybody roared at this, till the
porter finally managed to articulate:
T-t-t-train rob-rob-robbers!"
Silence shut down as if the whole
crowd had been slnitten with paraly.
sis. From somewhere outside and
ahead came a pop-popping as OF fire.
crackers. Everybody thought, RE
volvers!" The reports were mingled
with barbaric yells that turned the
marrow in every bone to snow.
These regions are full of historic
terror. All along the Nevada route
the conductor, the brakemen and old
travellers had pointed out scene after
scene where the Indians had slaked
the thirst of the arid land with white
mans blood. Ashton. who had trav-
eled this way many times, had made
himself fascinatingly horrifying the
evening before and ruined several
breakfasts that morning in the dining
car, by regaling the passengers with
stories of pioneer ordeals, men and
women massacred in burning wagons,
or dragged away to fiendish cruelty
and obscene torture, staked out supine
on burning wastes with eyelids cut
of, bound down within reach of rat
tlesnakes. subjected to every misery
that human deviltry could devise.
Ashton had brought his fellow pas
sengers to a state of ecstatic excit-
ability, and, like many recounter OF
burglar stories at night, had tuned
his own nerves to high tension.
The violent stopping OF the train,
the heart-shaking yells and shots out
side, found the passengers already apt
to respond without delay to the APP
peals OF fright. After the first hush
OF dread, came the reaction to panic.
Each passenger showed his own
panic in his own way. Ashton whirled
round and round. like horse with
the blind staggers. then bolted down
the aisle. knocking aside men and
women. He climbed on seat, pulled
down an upper berth. and, scrambling
into 1t. tried to shut 1t on himself.
Mrs. Whitcomh vas 40 frighteue4ahss