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the turntabl ck with other en- gineers. Mertin in his shirt slesves leaned ¢ window and, looking down on the 4 and bulent mob, spoke so d hear 1t?” demanded the most puls- der of De Molay, excitedly. e say, Bucks?" " growled a sec- “out with ft!” n minutes,” down on fifteen an oasis, would rotested a glass-eyed ind royally drawled. “Fifteen ‘What's a quar- 2 lifetime, Jackman, Take off your clothes, half an hour. Now oasis? P a Templar yell. They ¢ good things of life, those things other fellows get. They passed the e sleepers and the women the vestibules. In out came the Du- 1 pompons, duck trous- jackets hite corded The crowd broke, the band m the platform and, strik- “Washington Post,” opened on the grass plat above the Wickiup the De Molay guard. One hun- ts Templar in fatigue de- & bit of a park and In the sunset gave a commandery honor of Bucks—Bucks and the day night, and still as Au- ke jt. The battalion, mov- moblle as a steamer over rched, deployed and rested. the clear cut music, into and crescen and boys went cross-eyed, t last on the line they sa- self a past grand com- e raliroad men yelled. general manager’'s pri- pasted on the tail end and a pusher edging o the rear vestibule. k Moore and Oyster on the olive-green moothest moguls on ks and Neighbor had rything good all day for r wn to engines and run- tor. Pat Francis carried le chief sat again ir for De Molay vely women strolled in evening and the odor of weetness and the guard drilled r yed the chief knit his in sheet. It looked now, ered, readjusted and re- Gila monsger had claw- ut wiping his feet. And v Four got ready to pull re and Oyster on the throt- Parker in the baggage, “A yell went out of the room where he had absolutely nothing to do but smoke cigars and drink champagne, and Pat Francis in the aisles, and Bucks, with Mr. and Mrs. Callahan and their crowd in private No. 12—there was that much shoutlng anu tooting and waving that Martin Duffy simply couldn’t think for a few seconds; yet he held them all, for life or for death, every last one, in the curve of his fingers. So they stood reaay in tne gorge while Duffy studled wearily how to handle First, Second and Third Eighty against them. First, Second and Third Eighty! If they could only have been wiped off the face of the rails as easy as they might have been wiped off a train sheet! But there they were, three sections, and big ones, of the California fast freight. High class stuff for Chicago and New York that couldn’t be held or laid out that Sunday, not for a dozen conclaves. All day First, Second and Third Eighty had been feeling their way east through the mountains, trying to dodge the swell commanderies rolling by impudent as pay cars. But all the final plans to keep them out of every- body’s way, out of the way of fez and turban and chapeau and Greek cross and crimson splashed sleepers, were now dashed by thirty minutes at Medicine for De Molay Four. Order after order went out from under his hand. New meeting points for First, Becond and Third Eighty and De Molay Four, otherwise Special 326. Pat Francis snatched the tissues from like a tidal wave.” Duffy’s hand and, after the battalion had dispersed among theilr wives and sisters, and among the sisters of thg other fel- lows; after the pomponed chaps had chucked the trombones and cymbals and drums at old John Parker's shins; after the last air-cock had been tested and the last laggard crusader thrown forcibly aboard by the provost guard, the double- header tooted, “Out!” and, with the flut- ter of an ocean liner De Molay Four pulled up the gorge. The orders buttoned in the reefers gave De Molay a free sweep to Elcho, and Jack Moore and Oyster were the men to take it, good and hard. Moreover, there was glory aboard. Pennsylvania nobs, way- up rallroad men, waiting to see what for motive power we had in the woolly West; how we climbed mountains and skirted canyon walls and crawled down two and three per cent grades. Then with Bucks himself In the private car—what wonder they let her out and swung De Molay through the gorge as may be you've seen 2 particularly buoyant kite snake its tail out of the grass and send it careening skyward. When they slowed for Elcho at nightfall, past First and Second Eighty, and Bucks named the mileage, the Pennsys refused to believe it for the hour's run. But fast they had sped along the fron trail, Martin Duffy’s work had sped ahead of them, and this order was waiting: Telegraphic Train Order No. 79. C. and E. Third No. 8), Rat River. C. and E. Special 32, Elcho. THE SUNDAY CALL. Third No. 80, Engine 210, and Special 326 will meet at Rock Point, 3 M C D. ‘With this meeting point made, it would be pretty much over in the dispatchers’ a pocket mirror Inspected a threatening “pimple on the end of his chubby nosé, palming the glass skillfully so Barnes Tracy couldn’t see it even if he did inter- rupt his eruption, and walited for Bob Duffy, the Rat River nightman, to come office. Martin Duffy pushed his sallow hair back for the last time, and, leaving young Giddings to get the last O. K.'s and the last Complete on his trick, got out of the chair. It had been a tremendous day for Gid- dings, a tremendous day. Thirty-two Specials on the dispatchers, and Giddings copying for the Chief. He sat down after Duffy, filled with a riotous’import- ance because it was now, in effect, all up to Giddings, personally; at least un- til Barnes Tracy should presently kick him out of the seat of honor for the night trick. Mr. Giddings sat down and waited for the signature of the orders. Very soon Pat Francls dropped off De Molay Four, standing at Eicho, ran straight to the operator for his order, signed it and at once Order 79 was throbbing back to young Giddings at Medicine Bend. It was precisely 7:54 p. m. when Giddings gave back the Com- plete and at 7:556 Elcho reported Special 32 out” all just lke clock work. What a head Martin Duffy has, thought young Giddings—and behold! all the complicated everlasting headwork of the trick and the day, and of the West End and its honor, was now up to the signa- ture of Third Eighty at Rat River. Just Third Elghty's signature for the Rock Point meeting, and the biggest job ever tackled by a single-track road in Amer- fca, Giddings thought, was done and well done. > So the ambitious Giddings by means of back at him with Third Eighty's signa- ture. Under Giddings' eye, as he sat, ticked Martin Duffy’'s chronometer—the watch that split the seconds and chimed the quarters and stopped and started so impossibly and ran to a second a month— the watch that Bucks (who never did things by halves) had given little Martin Duffy with the order that- made him Chief. It lay at Giddings' fingers and the minute hand wiped from the enameled dial seven o'clock—fifty-five, fifty-six. seven, eight—nine. Young Giddings turned to his order book and in- spected his entries like a methodical bookkeeper, and Martin Duffy's chronom- eter chimed the fourth quarter, 8 o'clock. One entry he had still to make. Book in hand, he called Rat River. “Get Third Eighty's signature to Order 79 and hurry them out,” he tapped impa- tiently at Bob Duffy. There was a wait. Giddings lighted his pipe the way Callahan always lighted his pipe—putting out his lips to catch all the perfume and blowing the first cloud away wearily, as Callahan always did wearlly. Then he twirled the match meditatively, and listened and got suddenly this from Bob Duffy at Rat Rive “I forgot Order 79, came Bob Duffy's message. “I let Third Eighty go without it. They left here at seven fifty"—fifty something. Giddings never heard fifty what. The match went into the Ink, the pipe into the water pall and Giddings, be- fore Bob Duffy finished, like a drowning man was calling Elcho with the life and death, the Nineteen call. ‘“Hold Special 326!" he cried over the wire the instant Elcho replied. But Eicho, steadily, answered this: “Spectal Three-twenty-six left— here—seven-fifty-five.” Giddings, with both hands on the table, raised up like a drunken man. Eighty in the open and going against the De Molay Four. Bucks, Callahan, wife— everybody—and Rock Point a blind sid- ing that no word from anybody on earth could reach ahead of Third Eighty. Glddings sprang to the open window and shouted to anybody and’ everybody to call Martin Duffy. But Martin Duffy spoke behind him. “What do you want?” he asked; it came terribly quick on Giddings as he turned. “What's the matter?’ exclaimed Mar- tin, looking into the boy's face. “Speak, can't you? What's the matter, Gid- dings?” “Bob forgot Order 79 and let Third Eighty go without—and Special 326 1is out of Elecho,” chocked Giddings. “What?" “Bob at—Rat River—gave Third Eighty a clearance without the Order 79.” Martin Duffy sprang straight up in the air. Once he shut his lifted hands; once he looked at Glddings, staggering again through the frightful news, then he dropped into the chalr, looked wildly around, seized his key like a hunted man, stared &t his train sheet, grabbed the order book, and listened to Glddings cut- ting off one hope after another of stop- ping Special 326. His fingers set mechan- jcally and he made the Rat River call, but Rat River was silent. With Barnes Tracy tiptoeing in behind on the in- stinct of trouble and young Giddings shaking like a leaf, the chief called Rat River. Then he called Eicho, asked for special 32, and Eicho again repeated steadily: “Special — 326 — left — here — on — or- der—79—at-seven-fifty-five p. m.” Martin Duffy bent before the message; young Giddings, who had been whispering to Tragy, dropped on a stool and covered 't cry, Giddings.” It was Dufty who spoke; dry and parched his voice. “It's nothing you—could help.” He looked around and saw Tracy at his elbow ‘“‘Barne: he sald, but he tried tw! be- fore his voice would carry. “‘Barnes— they will meet in Cinnamon cut. Gid- dings told you? Bob forgot, forgot my order. Run, Giddings, for Benedict Mo: gan and Doubleday and Carhart—quick!” Giddings ran, the Rat River call echo- ing down the hall behind him. Rat River was closest to Rock Point—would get the first news of the wreck and Martin Duffy was calling his recreant. brother at the river; but the river was silent. Doubleday and the company surgeon, Dr. Carhart, rushed into the room almost together. Then came with a storm the wrecking boss, Benedict Morgan; it was only an evil hour that brought Bemedict * Morgan Into the dispatchers’ office. Stoop- ed and silent, Martin Duffy holding the chair, was calling Rat River. Carhart watched him just a moment, then he took Barnes Tracy aside and whispered—and, going back, bent over Duffy. The chiet pulled himself up. “Let Tracy take the key,” repeated the doctor. “Get away from the table a min- ute, Martin. It may not be as bad as you think.” Duffy, looking into the surgeon’s face, put his hand on his arm. “It's the Dol Molay train, the special 326, wita Bucks car, double-headed. Oh, my God—IL f:an't stop them. Doctor, they will meet!” Carhart unfastened the fingers on his arm. “Come away a minute. Let Tracy have the key,” he urged. “A head-ender, eh?” croaked Benedict Morgan from the counter, and with a frightful oath. *“A head-ender!” “Shut up, you brute!” hissed Carhart. Duffy’'s hands were creeping queerly up the sides of his head. “Sure,” growled Benedict Morgan, low eringly, “sure. Shut up. Of course. Shut up.” Carhart was a quick map. He started for the ‘wrecker, but Duffy, springing, stopped him. “For God's sake, keep cool, everybody he exclaimed, piteously. There was no one else to talk, to give the orders. Bucks and Callahan both on the speclal—may be past order giving now. Only Martin Duffy to take the double load and the double shame. He stared, dazed again, into the faces around as he held to the flery surgeon. ‘‘Morgan,” he added steadily, looking at the surly wrecker, ‘“get up your crew, quick. Doubleday, make up all the coaches in the yard for an ambulance train. Get every doctor in town to go with you. Tracy, clear the line.” The master mechanic and Benedict Mor- gan clattered downstairs. Carhart, run- ning to the telephone, told central to summon every medical man In the Bend, and hurried out. Before he had covered a block roundhouse callers, like flaws of wind before a storm, were scurrying the streets, and from the tower of the fire- house sounded the harsh clang of the emergency gong for the wreckers. Caught where they could be caught, out of saloons, beds, poker joints, Salvation barracks, churches—the men of the wrecking crew ran down the .silent streets, waking now fast into#life. Con- gregations were dispersed, hymns cut, prayers forgotten, bars deserted, - hells emptied, barracks raided as that call, the emergency gong call, fell as a firebell, for the mountain division wrecking train. ‘While the yard crews shot up and down the spurs switching coaches into the re- lief train Benedict Morgan with solid vol- leys of oaths was organizing his men and fllling them at the lunch counters with huge schooners of coffee. Carhart pushed again, through the jam of men and up to the dispatchers’ office. Before and behind him crowded the local physi- clans with instrument bags and ban- dages. The ominous bagsage deposited on the office floor, they sat down about the room or hovered around Carhart ask- ing for detalls. Doubleday, tall and grim, came over from the roundhouse. Bene- dict Morgan stamped up from the yard— the mountain division was ready. All three dispatchers wers in the room. John Mallerg, the day man, stood near Tracy, who had relleved Giddings, The line was clear for the rellef run. Elcho had been notified of the impending dls- ster, and at Tracy’s elbow sat the chief looking fixedly at the key—taking the bob of the sounder with his eye. A dosen men in the room were talking; but they spoke as men who speaking wait on the life of a fuse. Duffy, with suspense deep- ening into frenzy, pushed Tracy's hand from the key and, sliding into the chailr, began once more to call his brother at Rat River. =T , T =R, T —R, T,” clicked the River call. “R, T —R, T. Bob—Bob —Bob,” spelled the sender. “Answer me, answer, answer. R, T —R, T —R, T And Barnes Tracy edged away and leaned back to where the shadow hid his face. And John Mallers, turning from the pleading of the current, stared gloom- ily out of the window across the yard shimmering under the double relay of who couldn’t stand it—just couldn't stand it— bending on his stool, shoock with gulping arc lights; and young Giddings, sob: breaking in the little click, b The others knew nothing of the, heart- they 13 all the track—knew wh trains d knew they by any possib see each whirled together on the curve t namon cut or on the trestle west and they waited only for the breaking of the suspense that settled heavily over them. Ten, twenty, thirty, forty m! es went, with Martin Duffy at interv. vainly calling. Then—as the crack opens in the mountain slide, as the sea gives up at last its dead, the sounder River made the dispa Martin Duffy, staring at the pushed himself up in his chair that chokes, caught smothering at his neck, and slipped wriggling to the floor. Carhart caught him up, but Duffy’'s eyes stared meaningless past him. Rat River was calling him, but Martin Duffy was pa. the taking. Like the man next at the gun, Barnes Tracy sprang into the chair with the I. I. D. The surgeon, G dings helping, gged Duffy lounge in Callahan's room—his more to Giddings then than th Special 326. But soon confused voices be- gan to ring from where men were crowd- ing around the dispatcher’s table. They echoed In to where the doctors worked over the raving chief. And young Gid- dings, helping, bega: 0, to hear strange things from the other room. “The moon— “The moon?" “The MOON “What?" Barnes Tracy was himself heard: ““The moon, English, ain't 1t? Moon.” “Who's ta at Rat Ri ed Benedict Morga a “Chick Neale, c: ty; their train bless that man, trying to make damn #t! MOON! That's r?" demand- cy, wiping his forehead fev he's an old operator. He says Bob Duffy is missing—tell Martin, quick, there fsn't wreck—quick!" “What does N ught “He says his engt Monsoon, was scared by the moon ris- ing just as they cleared Kennel Butte,” explained Tracy unstead “He took it for the headlight jumped from his e backed the train to While Tracy talked, key was getting it all Yk here,” he exclaimed, d you ever hear of such a mix-up in your life? The head brake- man of the freight was In the cab, says. He and the about the last Con ing where they were go when the brakem spled the moon coming up around Kennel Butte curve. ‘There’s the 326 Special!’ he yelled, and lighted out the gangway. Monsoon = versed and jumped off after *um so quick he knocked the fireman over In the co: When the fireman got up—he hadn't heard a word of it all-he couldn’t see anything ahead but the moon. So he stops the train and backs up for the two guys. When Neale and he picked them up they ran right back to Rat River for orders. They never got to Rock Point at all-why, they never got two miles east of Rat River.” ngineer were wonder- to meet it, “And where's Special 367" cried Doubleday. “At Rock Point, you loco. ‘She must be there and waiting yet for Third Eighty. The stopping of the freight gave her plenty of time to make the meeting point, don’t you see, and thers she is— sweating—yet. Neale is an old operator. By heaven! Give me a man of the key against the world. Pralse God from whom all blessings flo “Then there isn't to be any wreck?™ ventured a shy little lady homeopathio physician, who had been crimped into the fray to help do up the mangled Knights and was modestly walting her opportun- ity. Not to-night,” announced Tracy with the dignity of a man temporarily in charge of the entire division. A yell went out of the room like a tidal wave. Doubleday and Benedict Morgan had not spoken to each other since the night of the roundhouse fire—that was two years. They turned, wonder-struck, to each other. Doubleday impulsively put out his hand and before he could pull it in again the wrecking boss grabbed it like a pay check. Carhart, who was catching the news from the rattle of young Giddings, went wild trying to re- peat it to Duffy without losing it in his throat. The chief was opening his eyes, trying to understand. Engineer Monsoon was a new man, who had been over the division only twice be- fore in his life, both times in daylight. For that emergency Abe Monsocon was the man of all others, because it takes more than an ordinary moon to scare a thoroughbred West End engineer. But Monsoon and his moon headlight had be- tween them saved De Molay Four from the scrap. Bucks got the whole thing when De Molay Four reached Rat River that ni, Bucks and Callaban and Moore and O ter and Pat Francis got it and smiled grimly. Nobody else on Special 326 even dreamed of leaving a bome that Sunday night in the Cinnamon cut. All the rest of the evening Bucks smiled just the same at the Knights and Knightesses, and they thought him for a bachelor wonderfully entertaining. A month later, when the old boys, more or less ragged, came straggling back from Frisco, Bucks' crowd stayed over a train, and he told his Pennsylvania cronfes what they had slipped throngh in that delay at Rock Point. ““Just luck,” laughed one of the Eastern superintendents, who wore on his watch chain an enormous Greek cross with “Our trust is in God” engraved onm it. " “Just luck,” he laughed “wasn’t 1t “May be’* murmured Bucks, looking t@rough the Wickiup window at the Teton peaks. “That is—you might call it that— back on the Penn. Out here I guess they'd call it, Just God.” Love’s Victor at the Polls? This amazing triumph of the womea of an entire State is just coming to izht. It is a feature of the : 3 NEXT SUNDAY CALL Which every woman ia the West read : 1 s will Watch for the new MYSTER'OUS THRILL'NG FASCINATING ROMANCE ..The. Golden Fetich,. BEGINS NEXT SUNDAY.