The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1928-03-17

motif Of yellow and green. The
station clerk smiles wanly when you
ask for a parlor car reservation to
Augusta.
-'We don't charge anything for
parlor car seats on this road" he
says.
And they don't, for the simple
reason there are none. Old No. 4,
which leaves ValdoSta at noon to
make the 30O-miIe haul to Au-
gusta, is made up Of an engine Of
uncertain dependability, two day
coaches and a cattle car, the
aromas from which add nothing
to the gayety Of the adventure.
n n
DILL ARDSLEY is the conductor
ID TIe is also the flagman and the
brakeman. I suspect at intervals
he goes up front and feeds the
boilers. Bill has been making his
run for nigh on forty years now,
and it looks as if it might be a per-
manent job for him.
This coach you boys are riding
in now" vouchSafed Bill, addressing
Frank inertia, the camera man. and
myself, lis 80 years old. I took her
cut the first day she was in service,
and 7 tell you she sure was pretty
little thing"
There was something close to
genuine emotion in Bills voice as
his eyes wandered from the cluster
Of kerosene lamps that swung pre-
cariously from the roof Of the an
Gent coach to the open-faced wash
bowl.
Bill has toted some powerfully
famous people over this road, in
Guiding Woodrow Wilson, ''the
Dimmycrat of this or any other
age;" Andrew Carnegie, one of
the ROckefeIIerS-"it was either
the old man or the con'-and he
thinks, but isn't "sure for GER
tafn," that John L. Sullivan once
rode with him.
r. =
NLD No. 4 makes only fifty three
" stops between Valdosta and
Augusta and changes engines twice
When it isn't stopping it is starting
Bill knows everybody along the line
and everybody knows him. At Bear
Greek he learns with conspicuous
relief that the Perkins child is over
her malaria, and at Stevens Cross
ing he is downright happy to hear
that theeplague that took away four
of the Mahony hogs is abating.
Unless you care for that popular
southern beverage, Coca-Cola or
candy bars, you go hungry during
the nine hours it takes old No. 4 tc
limp and stagger across the waste
lands, now drenched with back wa
ter from the Savannah River.
You boys starving? queries Bill
over the top of his frosty looking
specs, well, I'll tack on the diner
for you at Augusta. -
Presently Bill returns to tell you
there will be another engine
change at Douglas.
Go into that lunch room to the
left of the station and get ham
burger with onions" he suggests.
TITS the best hamburger this side
Of New York State"
a ND to show how highly he
IA himself esteems this particular
composition of mutilated beef, Bill
gets off and goes for one himself.
Along about 6 o'clock when the
sun has begun to fade to purple
against a horizon Of poisoning
peach trees, old No. 4 wheezes u1l-
steadily into Vidette, like Truck
Hannah running from second tc
third, and male passenger in high
dudgeon climbs aboard.
This pesky road is getting worse
and worse" he RACES, You're
more'n forty minutes late"
Bill eyes him calmly, takes out a
flve-pound watch that ticks in au-
dible sympathy with the putting
engine up front, and answers:
You're wrong, as usual, Brother
PT7Ia 0,,aVAe0va XLTa'r0 I1,rt T01-4Yt min