The spectator., 1921-04-29
Fly FRANCIS LYNDE

ing to go around the lower end 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 kirgan, the engineer swung down from the step at the lead switch, leaving the hostier to "spot" the engine on the table. l knew the engineer by sight. His name was Gorcher, and he was reformed cow-punch'-with q record for getting out of more tight places with heavy train than any other man on the divi- sion.
 Here's looking at you. Mir. Kir- gan," 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, ain't you? Well. found her"
 What's that-where?" snapped kir- San in tone that made noise like the pop of a whip-iash.
 You know that old gravel pit that digs into the hill mile west of the old Y on the Timber Mountain grade? We'll she's there; plumb Ut the far end O that gravel track. cold and dead"
 ''Cripped?" kirgan rapped out
 Not as we could see; just dead She's got her nose showed piece Into the gravel bank, but she ain't off the rail-"
 Kirgan nodded. "Who else saw her?'
 Nobody but the boys on our train. l reckon"
 Al right Don't spread it. Want to make q little overtime?"
 "I ain't kickn' none"
 That's business. After you've had your supper, call up your fireman and report to me here at the round-house We'll take light engine and go down along and get that runaway"
 This seemed to settle kirgau'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 had been made.
 When Goreher 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-mechanlc at the door of Greek eat-shop that he patronized and went on up 10 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 a telegram. It was from Mir. Chadwick, under a Chicago date line, and it was addressed TO the General Managers Otiice," just like that. There were only nine words in 1t, but they were all strictly to the , point: What's gone wrong? Where is Mir. Norcross? Answer quick"
 l saw in half second Ut least a part of what had happened Mir. Chad wick was back from his Canadian trip, and somebody-the New York people. perhaps-had wired him that 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, Mir. Norcross hadn't as yet turned up in Chicago!
 Gee, but that brought on more talk-a whaling lot of 1t. meant to find out, right away. If Mir. Van Britt had come back from the scene or wreck. He was the man to an swer Mir. Chadwick's wire. But an inter- 'ption 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 10 say that I was wanted quick at the telephone
 It was Mrs. Shella 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 l could think of" was the way she began; and then. "Whnre ia Mir