The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1921-05-27
Py
FRANCIS
LYNDE

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 Kirgan. 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 Gorcher, 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-
sion.
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
FIR that Atlantic-type that got lost in
the shuttle. amt you? Well. found
her."
whats that-where?" snapped Kir-
gan, in tone that made noise like
the pop of a whip-lash.
AOu hAOW tlidt Olu SIdfeI PIT Cudt
digs into the hill mile west of the
old Y on the Timber Mountain grade?
Well, she's there; plumb at the far
end O. that gravel track, cold and
dead"
"Crippled?" Kirgan raped out.
.Not 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
her?"
Nobody but the boys on our train.
reckon"
"All right. Don't spread it. Want
to make a little overtime?"
Il 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.
Wen take light engine and go 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 it wasn't marked on the
map we had been studying; but that
merely meant that 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. left the master-mechanic at
the door Of Greek eat-shop that he
patronized and went on up to the
Bullard. was just getting around
to my piece Of canned pumpkin pie
when the kid from the dispatcher's
office came into the grill-room. stretch
ing his neck as if 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 it was addressed ITO the
General Managers Office" just like
that. There were only nine words
in it, but they were all strictly to the
point: whats gone wrong? Where
is Mr.. Norcross? Answer quick"
saw in half a second at least a
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
new general manager had been APP
pointed for Pioneer Short Line The
old wheat kings quick shot at 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 it. meant
to find out, right away. If 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 bHtted in suddenly, just
as l 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
l 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 Britt 2"