Evening star., 1925-07-05
Continued from Yesterdays Starr

CdLys Sdlu the CIlttlI man VI IiC
board, with a supreme effort at con-
troll. But it looks to me like this
railroad has gone craZier. Talk quick
now. How the devil do you and your
fireman come to be mucking around
Bienvenu on foot?'
Once more Buck McMasters glow
cred at Dad Adams and Uncle Mickey
This story would stick, he knew. 1t
made hard telling.
Those two old lunatics held us
up at the siding where we ran in to
let the Sky Rocket pass, back down
the line" he said bitterly. Took the
Sabine away and ran her themselves.
Me and Jezzbo, we hoofed 1t down the
line for five miles to a section gang
and borrowed their motor car. Got to
Bienvenu just when the agent was
getting word about the crevasses ana
saw the trestle so. Then we started
after you all. No other way 10 reach
YOU
1t was lunatiC. as he had said 1t.
Enthusiastically Iunatic. But there In
the middle of a flooding country,
caught between two crevaSses, Henry
Burlingame threw back his head and
roared with laughter as q great light
dawned upon him. For now he saw
the shotgun by Dad Adams seat.
You two damned old dodoes took
your pet engine away from these two
men and" he began. But he
never finished the sentence. Dad,
whose veteran railroad brain had been
$Sorking automatically, cut in on the
speech.
Shoot me later, Hank. If yo' gotta,
but lissen nav, fo' Gawd's sake he
pleaded "Yo get what Buck says.
Light construction rail on what pilin's
left in Bienvenu treStle. Yo' CANT
make it with that heavy Sky Rocket
equipment Yo' dom know how much
that pilin's weakened. Lissen, Hank.
See them construction flats over there
on that sidin? Why don yo' let me
an Mickey hook onto 'em with the
Sabine an back out here on the main
the Sky Rocket Wen take 'em
through the swamp an oveh the tres
tie t high land Hey? Well be
light enough L make it, Hank. Send
Buck an Jazzbo hustlin' back on
that notch cab t. tell 'em how quick
we aH's comm. How bout it, Hank?
Men Mickey, we done run her this
far. We en- run her back.
Henry Burlingame looked at his dl-
vision superintendent.
CRAZY as hell, Frank" he said.
what do you think? I'm a son-ot-a-
gun if I don't believe it's the answer.
CRAZY is right" said that rail
roader. But it's the dope. l mis-
trust that trestle. The Sabine weighs
about 100, 900 to 74S's 100000. It's
about the only chance"
Lets so, then" said Hell-Roarins
Hank
Swift orders cracked. And while
the motor car sped back through the
swamp to bring the word TO the con-
struction gang laborinG at BlenVenu
trestIe the chairman of the Delta
Valley himself leaped down along the
ties back to the Sky Rocket to help
superintend the transfer of the hood-
threatened passengers from the all
steel Pullmans to splintery construc-
tion fiat cars, dragged by the Sabine
from the siding, where they rested In
convincing proof of the PROVIDENCE
that looks out so often for honest
railroad men.
OF the happenings of the next few
hours they'll tell you yet. up anu
down the line of the Delta Valley, IN
roundhouse and switch shanty, In
construction camp and section gang.
THEY'LL tell you of constructor
crew that labored like cursins ana
crimy demi-gods at the BlenVenu Tres
tie under the glare of gasoline mares
as the Wells lights shone out over
swirling brown flood, while caps ana
stringers and piling braces and ties
over the naked tops of the pillng that
was all the rushing waters had le1t
of the trestle in their first mad surge.
TheyIi tell you by what superhu.
man battling the light 50-pound ran
from the branch line material was
spiked down upon the ties In feVerlsn
fight to open a gate to safety LOT the
Sky Rockets passengers. They IL tel
YOU how that crowd of passengers
oil q h2lf-SnDInorg6u
line through Tete Noir Swamp, mud
died on light construction flats pushed
through a flooded landscape by reno
of a locomotive that ought TO nave
been under glass in museum. Iney IL
tell you how the happy curses OF the
chairman of the board mingled with
the triumphant whoops of an aged
lunatic who sat at the throttle of that
comic supplement locomotive When the
repaired trestle came into sight.
But most of all they love to tell you
how. when Uncle Mickey Riordan,
that sweating and overtaNed veteran,
piled shovel and bar until he dropped,
it was Henry Burlingame, Hell-Roar-
ing Hank. that same chairman, who
took the veterans place, took 1t and
held it despite the protests of Big Ia
Maddox, engineer of the deserted I4S,
and ordered Ed to hold himself in re.
serve 10 take the lHIOll III SdoC 'hAS
aged lunatic cracked.
And they chuckle as they relate that
the aged lunatic, never relinquishing
that throttle, harried his millionaire
fireman with profane encouragement.
With irreverent and biting comment
that now. dad-blast it, some guys were
gonna understand you couldn't keep a
real railroad man off'n the job While
there was a job that needed real rail
road men, hey?
1t was a shaky and tottering trestle
that awaited the Sabine's arrival, as
she came backing through the dark
with the crowded string of f1atcarS
ahead of her But slowly, carefully
throttled down. she pushed them over
the temporary light construction that
had been laid in such mad haste. Just
below those 55-pound rails, so pitifully
light the crevaSse flood Surged on it's
way, The structure swayed perilously
beneath the weight it was called to
hold.
The first fiat car made it. The sec
ond. The third. The fourth. The
fifth neared land. Then, as the Sky
Rockets passengers Swarmed forward
and Ieaped off the sides to the road
bed and scrambled to safety on the
ridge beyond, there came groaDeng,
splintering sound.
The fiood-weakened piling sagged
inward, outward, all ways, as a pile
of nursery jackstrawS sag. Under the
surface of the brown flood sank the
caps, the stringers, the ties and the
rail that had been laid in such mad
haste, with frantic, fear-spurred speed.
With them sank the Sabine. Brave
in her panoply of black and gold, she
vanished rumbling from sight, her
IL IL all h. 13sr