The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1915-09-30

his bell revolving like circular saw. Those
OF us who knew George Anhorn knew that
the old man was nervy enough to get that
tram through on time if it was in human
power, and to take any chances imaginable
IN order to do it. Young Bob didn't know
whether to be proud opscared, and he came
mighty near being both.
McStewart came in and began grumbling
about the treatment the 1863 was probably
getting He vowed that Amhorn was no
careful man, and that if so much as a quar-
ter of an inch was worn off those tires it
would be back to wiping for George. It
would have been>a sad day for McStewart
if he had had to decide which he loved the
better, his family or his engines.
But Fifty-six kept right on waking things
up on the jerkwater division. Down in the
Rainy Creek hills the track wound through
them Ike snake, and when the train hit
the trst bend the mail clerks were slammed
about numerically. But a railway mail
clerk has more lives than cat, and George
didn't slow down any on their account.
The engine would strike curve like a thou
sand tons of brick, and time after time
young Angus stood up thinking his hour
had come; but always the big machine
righted herself, and the lurching cars fol-
lowed somehow without leaving the iron.
The fireman had to brace himself with one
hand while he shoveled with the other, and
even then, expert as he was, the coal often
went wide of the 6re-box door. Once a
shovelful went out through the gangway,
and Amhon groaned when he saw It, for
ne had no time to stop to coal and every
lump was going to count.
There was joy in his soul when they came
to the top Of the long, straight grade down
Blue Mountain, the one that he had gotten
thirty days for the last time he went down
1t. Sixty days or a wreck this time" said
old George to himself, and he pulled the
throttle clear over to the last notch He
telt the engine respond, and a minute later
they were flying down that mountain like a
whlrlwind possessed. The conductor offered
to make deposition under oath that the last
car never touched the rails but twice the
whole thirty-two miles. Halfway down the
hill was little station called Glenvar, and
the agent there had truck-load of chickens
In ycoops sitting near the track. When he
heard the mail train coming he thought he
would go out and move them back a little.
With an ordinary train he would have had
plenty Of time, but this was different. He
got to the door just in time to see the whole
five coops disappear under the wheels of the
rear car, where they had been drawn by the
terrific suction. By the time he realized
what had happened George was whistling
for the Franklin road crossing three miles
away. The next day section hands reported
feathers along the right of way for eleven
miles below Glenvar.
At the foot of the mountain was a tank
where they had to stop for water, but the
engineer was afraid to take time to coal and
he told Angus that he would have to make
the supply hold out. The new engines had
big, high tenders, and Jim said all right, he
would do it if he had to burn his shirt. He
did burn it, and his suspenders, too, before
they saw the lights of CInch River that
night; but | am getting on too fast with the
story.
After leaving the tank it was uphill
through the long Pine Creek gorge, with
the engine putting her heart out and Jim
Angus shoveling like fend ALI the help
that good engineer can give a fireman
old George gave the youngster, but at that
the sweat ran off the boy in streams as he
=