The Mount Holly news., 1915-02-02
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MAD WITH THE HEAT
BY EDeERroN FRANKLIN.

The sounder called. in Wilkes lazy
way-Wilkes up the line at Bradford
and Belcher awoke from his doze and
answered.
Seen the PRESIDENT" inquired his
sounder.
Belcher licked back that he had not
and inquired If there was any news.
The sounder said: "Old mans either
gone through on one of the fast trains
or is going through. Stop his train and
thank him for me. Now. shut np!"
Belcher snarled as he turned away
from the table. That was Wilkes
facetious way of saying Good morn.
ing" over the telegraph wire: It made
him tired.
Everything made Belcher tired. He
rose wearily and shuffied out to the lit.
tie platform of Raynor station Twelve
years Of looking at that platform had
made him dead tired.
He looked around. Down the line
eastward, Belfield, presumably swell
tering in the heat. and 20 miles away.
Up the line. Bradford, another 20 miles
away. North. an endless trip of fiat
middle West country, uninhabitated.
offering no excuse for existence save
as haven for some solitude-loving
salamander. quivering just now in the
awful sun. Southwark precisely the
same thing. with the main road mile
away and out OF sight, and the heat
quivering more violently. If possible.
oh. yes, 1t was unusually warm that
day, Belcher reflected, as he glanced at
the thermometer and noted that. in the
shade, 1t stood just ia! It was hot
enough to make a man sit down again,
80 Belcher sat on the edge of the plat
form, his face in his dry palms.
Poor old Belcheri At thirty he looked
forty, and felt fifty. He had entered
the w. & q. service, right here at
Raynor. when eighteen years Of age, q
graduated telegrapher, at $12 a week.
He had also assumed the duties Of
station. freight and express agent.
porter, ticket agent, track-walker and
Information bureau to the two or three
dozen who detrained there monthly.
And he still earned $12 week.
Not that he had not been buoyant
and ambitious at first. Why, at first
be would have bet ten years Of his ex-
lstence that he'd be chief train-dis-
patcher, at the very least, by this
time. But the monotony of the thing,
the heat in summer and the cold in
winter, the twice-a-day tramp. with the
station and Benker's shabby farm
house at the respective ends, had
worked into Belcher.
His head had q queer feeling. He
rubbed 1t stupidity. Probably It was the
heat; Belcher didn't care much. He
only wished he had the president sit
ting there In that soundless hell, to
talk things over and say that he was
sorry the matter hadn't been attended
to before, and that he'd raise Belcher
at least five dollars at once. If he
didn't say that, Belcher had notion
that he'd throttle him.
With another groan, Belcher shuf-
fed to the end Of the platform and ex-
tracted from the closet something Of
his own contrivance-a sledge and a
strip of iron, with small spike at
either end. Whether he felt lazy or
not, he'd have to pull together that
crack In the tie next the switch and
keep 1t from spreading wide open be-
fore the track repairers finally worked
around to replacing the tie-some
seventy or eighty years hence.
Wearily, he shuffied across the track
and looked the thing over. Yes, about
two weeks more. or good rain. and
there'd be one tie split In two and a
loose rail.
There was no way of fixing It, for
the mechanism of that particular
switch. locked or open, usually de-
clined to operate with anything less
than hammer, and now It was twist
ed and broken to bits! Still more, the
morning express ran on mighty close
time. And
What the dickens are you doing?"
loud voice buzzed into his spinning
brain.
Belcher turned quickly. He stared.
He stared harder still! As certainly as
he breathed, 1t was President Bullion,
black-clad. puffy, red-faced. the very
gentleman with whom Belcher had
wanted to hobnob-or slaughter!
THAT was deliberate destruction Of
the company's property" thundered
the bulky man. 81 saw it"
Momentarily he saw more. Bel
cher's hard fist struck him in the re-
gion of the solar plexus. and he
sprawled backward, with the lone sta
tion-agent doing a wild war dance
over him.
Mr.. Bullion did not struggle For
the time he was altogether too dazed.
Belcher stepped back and laughed
somewhat wildly. Inspiration had
fairly blasted into his dulled brain.
There was his strip of iron to hold
the tie together; there was his sledge;
there was Buttons motionless foot
and ankle. laid mathematically along
the tie.
In FIVE seconds Belcher was down
on his knees and had the spiked strip
clapped over the silk-shod ankle. In
another five seconds the spikes them
selves were driven fast.
Belcher tossed the sledge a dozen
feet away and grinned at his captive
griuned for minute only. He sobered
quite suddenly. To be sure he had
Bullion pinned down in such fashion
that he was in no danger whatever,
for the switch was locked at both
ends; but-the two trains!
His head cleared up curiously, and
he bounded across the track to the sta
ton and into the closet. He came out
with flags and bulging pockets and ran
up track little. He torpedoed the
rails very thoroughly and planted red
flags between them. He raced back
to the station and halted a minute as
he heard the Raynor call.
He answered. Then he fell back
with a sort of whooping, laughing sigh
OF relief. The local was stalled away
down at Belfield and would wait for
the express to pass there.
So. 1t was all right Nobody risked
being killed. after all. And as sudden
ly as the tension had been put on
him. Just as suddenly 1t snapped and
Belcher began chuckling and rubbing
his head.
But-just what the deuce had he for
gotten just in the last few minutes?
Oh. yes! He'd nailed down the presi-
dent Of the road to one of his own sid
ings. That was It. Well, he'd go out
and have a chat with him, and scare
him just for fun.
Quite happily, therefore. Belcher
tripped through the awful heat to