, 1919-03-13

AN AttAS 80
at the rear of the train still burned.
The tramp pulled the lamp from its
fastening and walked along the wreck
age, until, from under a pile of boards
at his feet, he heard a groan.
The hobo kicked the boards and the
groan sounded again. He leaned over,
and, with a queer, silly feeling at his
weakness, tugged Intellectually at the
planking. His fingers kept letting go
! their hold and he sat back helplessly,
but hi knew the man underneath was
conscious now, for the mutterings were
audible, though still incoherent.
Number ten ten
ten . ten . damn . . .
ten . . . ten . . . ten" the
man underneath was saying as the
hobo tugged over him.
The tramp tore a board free and
the man below shuddered and twisted
his head in the ragged hole.
Number ten, damn you" he gasped
in pain from the weight Of which his
lungs were relieved.
stop ten . . ten . you
damned hobo" he gasped as the pain
gripped him again, "stop ten-the ex-
press train behind u.s. he explained
madly, stop it -. . stop it . {.
lantern there run u
e. uni"
The hobo understood at last, and
Harring sank back again unconscious.
The tramp was running mechanical
ly, automatically, at the trainman's
bidding. From far away the whistle
of No. 10 came to him, half startled him
from his automatism, and he raced on
more consciously. His legs wobbled
queerly as he forced them and he
stumbled between the ties, sometimes
staggering two or three steps back
ward to save his balance before he
could lunge madly forward again.
The second screech from No. 10
echoed past him, and, as he looked
fearfully ahead and did not see the
engine, he suddenly recalled that he
was or the curve and spurred on more
desperately, throwing himself forward
now as he stumbled and pressing him
self up again with his free hand when
he fell. 1t was quite W hundred
yards to the beginning of the straight
stretch which he must reach to signal
the train.
Again No. 10 whistled, but now the
sound, instead of coming around the
crescent ahead, seemed to the tramp
to come through the woods at his side,
and, as he glanced aside, it seemed to
come directly through the opening
where a path ran through the trees.
Spontaneously facing about to the d.
rection of the shrek, the tramp raced
into the cutoff.
The pound of the train now came to
him clearly as he ran but the smooth
dirt of the path spread before him.
Yet he lurched over it with high, strain
ed strides, and, still feeling for the
t~reacherous ties when they were no
longer there to trip him, he slipped at
first. But his stride soon adapted IT.
self and he reeled on to peat the train.
To beat the trainl The exhaust of
the Transcontinental's great engine al
ready Missed through the trees about
him, yet he had to beat the train. He
had to beat it, but he could hear 1t
coming so fast that his little steps
seemed nothing. He could feel the
pain of his muscles and the beat of his
feet upon the path, but compared with
the tremendous rush of the train, he
seemed held by a weight.
In the opening ahead he saw the
track where it crossed his little path,
and he had to beat the train to that
trackI Madly, thinking only to win
the race, and to tighten himself, he
hurled the signal lantern from him
and seemed to gain a little.
The track showed plainly before him,
almost at his feet, SO plainly that he
knew the headlight of the engine was
almost over the spot where the path
crossed it. To beat the train thereto
beat the train. He didn't know where
his strength came from or that 1t came
at all till it stiffened his legs and
steadied him. He was ten feet from
the track, but the train was almost as
near the crossing.
To beat it now-to win at the finish !
The white glare of the headlight smote
his eyes but he shut them and threw
himself forward blindly, with his arms
thrown out.
1t was the end of the race, and
wildly, madly now, the engine-the big,
pounding engine beaten by the little
man-roared to try to frighten him
away and win after all but the little
man wouldn't be frightened or cheated.
With the blind, reckless burst of his
triumph. he gathered himself, hurtled
forward-and beat the train to the
track.
"The crazy. damned hobo" the en-
gineer of No. 10 sputtered to the group
which gathered about the pilot. "Sui-
eide; suicide, that's what 1t is. Jumped
right oil of the bushes there and
threw himself under the wheels. Heard
me whistle, didn't you? But he was
bound to kill himself.
."fhOught he might be crazy and I