Year: 1875

to speak cheelfully, but with partial success


only.


He shook his lead moodily, but did not
speak. We neared the mysterious place.
I turned my eyes for one moment from the
road in front to attend to some slight duty.
I looked back just in time to catch one
glimpse of light-not the seeming fire
for which we watchcd-but the headlight
of coming train The next instant ter
rible shock-a deafening Grassland I
knew no more.


recovered my senses to find myself ly-
ing on bed, in low-ceiled room Of a
farm house, standing not far from the
scene of disaster. Stunned and bruised I
was, but had sustained no serious injury.
In answer to my eager inquiries, learned
that the train colliding with mine was
heavy express, which should have passed
at NJ, the next station beyond.


Liquor did it all. Tom Jones, the en-
gineer, who, though known to be a "regu-
lar' drinker, was still considered trust
worthy, had taken the train out Of st. A.
oil right as fur as anybody knew, but
whether he had drank an extra glass, and
got crazy drunk, or whether be had
touch Of the delrium tremcns that night,
nobody could ever tell. He and his fire.
man were both dead, poor fellows. 1t
was only known that he had rushed the
train through at full speed, disregarding
all signals from the conductor, and stop
ping at no station. But as for the thirty
odd miles, from St. A. to NJ, there were none
but small stations where tho express
stopped only when signalsd, I think no one
suspected any harm until they reached NJ,
where they should have stopped, and from
there to destruction had been only brief
ten minutes ride.


There were half dozen killed and
wounded on the express; on mine, one Of
the brakemen was badly hurt, and Brooks
Vane could not be found.


"Can't be found, man." I said to my in
formant-"what do you mean 7"


"Thats what I mean, sir. The men on
your train have searched everywhere, and
they can't find trace Of him, even."


1t was odd, to say the least. It was
now broad daylight, and could not con-
ceive how any search should have failed to
find him. 1 got up, lame and sore, bu:
still able to move about, and went out.


The house was only a little way from the
scene of the accident. The dead and
wounded had been moved away, and men
were busy removing the debris and clearing
the track. The express train was very
heavy one, and mine, though freight, COM
paratively light, since l had but few cars.
My engine had been thrown completely
from the track, over fbe low bank, into q
wet, marshy meadow lying alongside the
road. The smokcstack was half buried in
the mud. I walked around it, searching
carefully, but there was no sign Of my un-
fortunate fireman. I looked for him as
long as was able, and then dragged my
self back to the house, from whence dis
patched the fameI's sen to B., with a tele-
graphic messsage, to DO sent to my wife,
apprising her OF my safety, and begging
her to see that all knowledge of the accident
was kept from poor Vane's wife, and di-
rected him to wait for reply.


he returned in the afternoon with mes
sage from my wife:


"Yiola says Brooks body is buried in
the marsh, under the snukestack of the
Amoskeag. Search for it there.


EMMA DEASs"


Viola was Brooks wife. was confound-
ed. I had not utimated to my wife that
the body was missing, though, Of course,
she knew from the wording of my dispatch
that he must he dead or badly hurt. I
knew that an account of the accident had
been telegraphed to N, but I doubted if
this fact had been mentioned. However it
was evident that they knew it, but how
Mrs. Vane should know more than that, I
could not understand.


I walked out again to the place where
the engine lay. Men were already at work
with derrick trying to raise it. It was
many hours before their efforts were sue
ccssful. When at last they accomplished
their task, under the sm0kestack aoas found
the body Of Brooks Vaae!


THERE'S little more to tell. You were at
his funeral, and you know how hard his
poor wife took his loss, and how she faded
and pined, and ere long followed him with
her babe to the "farther shore"


The little have to tell you, is the reason
my wife sent that mysterious telegram.
All that night on which the accident hap
pened, Mrs. Vane lay in half stupor-my
wife was sitting up with her-rousing but
once between three and four in the morning
lust about the time her husband must have
been killed, when she started up with
shrek that rang through the house cry
ing:


80 Brooks Brooks don't co." and then
she fell back moaning "dead, Dead" and
seemed to realize nothing more.


No one, then, knew anything of the acci-
dent; but when the news came, not long
after, every precauton was used to keep it
from her. 1t was not until just before my
telegram lad been received, that she SEEM
ed 10 evince any consciousness Of what was
passing around her. At that time she
opened her eyes calmly, looking steadily
into the face OF my wife, who sat beside
her, and speaking il low even tones:


"They can't find my husband, Mrs.
Dean. Telegraph to Mr.. Deanee to have
them look in the marsh. under the smoke
stack Of the 'Amoskeag;' they will find him
there"


She didn't speak again all day. How she