The Pensacola journal. (Pensacola, Fla.) 1898-1985, 1916-07-14

up until the time that he was discharged
for his part in the incidents yet to be re-
lated, gave the w. G. S. surreptitious in
formation about its business Moreover. in
the race of the cotton trains he had up
small bet with the local yardmaster who
was not of the w. G. S. persuasion.
The stars were fading as the first Fifty
three slowed down and stopped to change
crews and engines in the CEnch River yards
at the beginning Of McKelly's division, the
mountain line. George Amhorn, just six
hours off mail run, was in the cab of the
first of the two coupled engines that were
waiting for her there reckless, irascible,
cranky, lovable old George, who had skated
on the thin edge of losing his job for so long
that he was almost law unto himself In
deed, when McKelly had fired" him one
day long since, George had worked six weeks
for nothing, refusing to be discharged and
declaring that the road could not be oper-
ated properly without him. Now, whenever
there was an extra fast run to be made or an
extra hazard to be undergone, it was George
who was sent for. And often the call-boy
who went In search of him met the old man,
who had In some manner gotten wind of it,
on his way to the roundhouse to protest
against being sent out-a protest that usu-
ally ended by his insisting on going. On
this occasion he had done with only five
hours sleep in order that he might get a
chance to take the Special north, and he had
wheedled Hayes into letting him have the
run. The air was being coupled up and the
inspectors hammers were still ringing on
the wheels, when Amhorn made the final
round with his oil can before the long pull
ahead. Young Oliver Mccullough, who
would take the mail out ten minutes be-
hind the first section, leaned from his cab
window and urged the old engineer to give
him plenty of room after he got under
way. Georges reply was utterly imprint
able "Make him mad enough and he'll
get there before he starts" was one of
the division proverbs concerning him. In
another moment the conductors lantern
signaled for the start, the whistle on the
first locomotive spoke twice, and the Cot
ton Special was moving again. And when
ever George thought of McCullough's re-
mark about plenty of room he angrily let
her out another notch until before his mind
had required to it many times the two
moguls were laundering along through the
summer dawn at very nearly the limit Of
their speed.
Forty miles south of Damascus Junction
parallel line of railroad came into view on
the right. This was the Shore Line, which
ran within hundred yards of the w. G. S.
with county turnpike between them for
twenty-six miles below the interlocking
tower at Dover. Almost at the same time
George caught above the sound of his own
train the roar of another, and out of the
woods just in the rear burst Shore Line
freight, double-headed for the mountain
grades, thirty cars loaded with cotton, and
making every inch of fifty miles an hour.
Amhorn took up couple of notches first
and swore afterwards. "That's the train
we're racing" he yelled at his fireman.
"Hit it up down therel We're going away
from here" And go they did Both train
crews had taken in the situation instantly.
At the interlocking tower at the crossing
, ahead one train or the other would have to
stop and allow the other to pass in front Of
, it, and the one that reached there first would
have the right of way. Fast as they had