The L'Anse sentinel., 1921-05-27
Ry'
FRANCIS
LYNDE

Ing 10 go around the lower emu OF
things.
This detour took us past the round
house. and when we reached the turn
table lead. the engine of the just
arrived freight came backing down
the skip-track. Seeing KirganY the
engineer swung down from the step
at the lead switch. leaving the hOstler
! to "spot" the engine on the table.
knew the engineer by sight. His name
was Gorcber. and he was reformed
cow-punch'-with record for getting
out Of more tight places with heavy
train than any other man on the divi-
slou.
Here's looking at you. Mr.. Kir-
gam" he said. with sort of Happy
Hooligan grin on his smutty face.
"You been passin the word, quiet.
among the boys to keep an eye out
f'r that Atlantic-type that got lost In
the shuttle. amt your Well. l found
her"
whats that-where?" snapped Kir-
gan, in tone that made noise like
the pop Of whip-lash.
you know that old gravel pit that
digs into the hill mile west of the
old ~ on the Timber Mountain grade7
Well. she's there; plumb at thef far
end o. that gravel track, cold and
dead"
"Crippled?" Kirgan raped out.
mot as we could see; just dead.
She's got her nose showed piece
into the gravel bank. but she amt
off the rail-"
Kirgan nodded. "who else saw
herr"
Nobody but the boys on our tran,
I reckon"
Albright. Don't spread It. Want
TO make little Overtime?"
II amt kickin none"
That's business. After you've had
your supper. call up your fireman and
report to me here at the round-house.
Well take light engine and 60 down
along and get that runaway"
This seemed to settle Kirgan's half
of the puzzle. We hadn't taken the
gravel track into our calculations sim
ply because II wasn't marked on the
map we had been studying; but that
merely meant sthat the pit had been
opened some time after the map had
been made.
When Gorcher had gone into the
round-house to wash up and tell his
fireman to report back, Kirgan and
crossed the yard and headed for
town. l left the master-mechgnic at
the door of Greek eat-shop that he
patronized and went on up TO the
Bullard. l was just getting around
to my piece of canned pumpkin pie
when the kid from the dspatcher's
office came into the grill-room. stretch
ing his neck as IL he were looking for
somebody When he got his eye on
me he came across to my corner and
handed me telegram. 1t was from
Mr.. Chadwick. under Chicago date
| line, and IL was addressed ITO the
General Managers Office" just like
| that There wene only nine words
In It, but they were all strictly to the
point: "What's gone wrong? Where
| Is Mr.. Norcross? Answer quick"
saw In half second at least
part of what had happened. Mr.. Chad.
wick was back from his Canadian
trip, and somebody-the New York
people, perhaps-had wired him that
acnew general manager had been ap-
pointed for Pioneer Short Line. The
old wheat kings quick shot Mt our
office showed that he wasn't in the
plot, and that. whatever else had be-
come Of him. Mr.. Norcross hadn't. as
yet turned up in Chicago!
Gee! but that brought on more
talk-a whaling lot Of 1t. i meant
to find ont. right away, II Mr.. Van
Britt had come back from the scene
Of wreck. He was the man to an.
swer Mr.. Chadwick's wire. But an
Interruption butted In suddenly, just
as was signing the dinner check.
The head waiter. who knew me from
having seen me so often with the boss,
came over to say that was wanted
quick at the telephone.
1t was Mrs. Sheila on the wire, and
could tell by the way her voice
sounded that she was nightly ex-
cited.
'I've been calling you on every
phone could think Of" was the way
she began; and then: "where is Mr..
Van Brittw