Year: 1877

In 80 there wasn't likelier fellow on
the line than George Kirke.


He was the son Of q poor man, and his
mother was dead. His father was a
confirmed invalid of the rheumatic
order, and George played the dutiful son
to him in way that would astonish the
young men Of to-day.


Somehow, nobody knew exactly how,
George had managed to pick up good
education, and he had polished it off, so
to speak, by a two years course at a
commercial college.


Kirke began on the Stony Hill rail
road when he was about twenty-one or
two years old. First, he was a brake
man. This railway business is a regular
succession, and, generally speaking, g
man has to work his way up. It aiIf't
often that he gets right mp to the dignity
of conductor at one step, with the
chance to pocket ten-cent scrips, and with
the privilege of helping all the cookbook
ing and well-dressed ladies out of the
cars, and letting the homely ones, with
babies and bandboxes in their arms,
stumble out as best they may.


George did his duty so well that he
was soon promoted to fireman, and, after
he had learned the workings of the ma
chine, he was made engineer and given
an engine.


This engine was one of the newest and
best on the line, and was called the Fly
away, and George was mighty proud of
her, you may well believe.


tell you, sir, your true engineer
one as is out and out for the business,
and feels his responsibility takes as
much pride in his engine as the Jockey
does in his favorite racehorse, and would
sit up nights, or neglect sweetheart, to
keep the brasses and flagrees of his
machine SOS you could see your face in
'em.


There was another man wanted
Georges chance. There's generally more
than one after every paying job.


Jack Halliday had been waiting for
some time to be engineer of the Flyaway,
and when he lost it he was mad enough
to pull hair. He was brakesman, like
wise, and had been on the road full two
years longer than Kirke, and it would seem
that the chance really belonged to him,
yet he was a quarrelsome, disagreeable
fellow, with independence enough to
have set an emperor up in business and
still Have had some left


When Jack realized that George had
got the inside track of him, his anger was
at white heat He cursed Kirke, and
cursed the company and old Whately, the
superintendent, and things generally,
until it seemed a pity that there was not
something else to curse, he was in such
fine cursing order.


There was more than one thing which
made John Halliday down on George
Kirke. George had been his rival in many
respects, and particularlywhere the fairel
creation was concerned George was 6
great favorite with the girls, for he was
handsome, and generous, and good-na.
tured, and Jack was sarcastic, and always
on the contrary side, and the girls avoid
ed him, as they always should such 6
man.


We always expected that i'll would come
to George, from Jacks bad blood against
him, and we warned him more than once
but he always laughed, and reminded uf
of the old saw that "barking dogs seldom
bite" which is true in the main.


And, as the time went on, until two
three, four months had passed since
Kirke's promotion, and nothing occurred
we forgot all about our apprehensions o.
evil, and if we thought of the matter al
all, we thought we had wronged Halli
day by our suspicious.


1t was dark night in November, with
considerable fog in the air, and strong
appearances of rain.


| was at Golosha, the northern ter
minus Of our road, looking after some
repairs on defective boiler, and / wal
going down to New York on the 7:5(
train-Kirke's train.


About seven there came telegram from
old Whately, whose summer residence
was nearly midway between Golosha ant
New York, and the old heathen had not
yet forsoken it for the city. The tele