The Ordway new era., 1921-06-17
BY
FRANCIS
LYNDE

| ing to so arouuu tne ""s
| 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 a reformed
cow-punch'-wlth record for getting
out of more tight places with a heavy
train than any other man on the divi-
| sion.
Here's looking at you. Mr.. kir'
| gan" he said, with sort OF Happy
| Hoollgan grin on his smutty face.
"You been passin' the word. quiet,
among the boys to keep an eye out
! f'r that Atantic-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 whip-lash.
"You know that old gravel pit that
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 a piece
into the gravel bank. but she amt
off the rail-"
KIrgan nodded. "who else saw
herr"
Nobody but the boys on our train,
l reckon"
"All right. Don't spread 1t. Want
TO make a little overtime?"
81 amt kickln' none"
That's business After you've had
report to me here at the round-house.
Well 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 1t 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 haI
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-mechanic at
the door of q 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"
l saw in half 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
a new general manager had been ap-
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 let of it. l 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 butted 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 I was wanted
quick at the telephone.
1t was Mrs. Stella on the wire. and
could tell by the way her voice
sounded that she was nightly ex
cited.
I've been calling you on ever,
phone i could think Of" was the wa,
she began; and then: "Where is Mr.
| Van Britt2"