The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, April 24, 1904, Page 8

THE SAN FRANGISCO SUNDAY CALL. @ was the second month of the @#trfke, and not a pound of freight Bhad been moved; things looked smoky on the West End The general superintendent happen- @f to be with us when the news came. “You can't handle it, boys,” said he, mervously. “What you'd better do to turn it over to the Columbian Pa- cific.” Our contracting freight agent on the coast at that time was a fellow so er- ratic that he was named Crazyhorse. Right in the midst of the strike Crazy- horse wired that he had secured a big silk shipment for New York. We were peralyzed We hed no engineers, no firemen and no motive power to speak strikers were pounding our s our trains and giving us the worst of it generally—that is,° when we coul give it to them. Why the lic tivity that 1 a’'my s he had a & against the r so, he took an artful re- venge. Everybody rstem with ordinary railroad sense knew that our struggle was to keep clear of freight business until we the trou- ble. Anything val perishable was especially unweicome But the stuff was ked and Joaded and consigned care before “we knew it that a refusal to carry it would ke hoistir vhite flag, anc s someth yet flew West ¥ Turn it over to the Columbian,” said the general superintendent;. but the 1 superintendent was not 1 d n n. He hadn’t enough sand was a fighter, and he gave tone tc an under him nging down dred years! We'll e Montgomery the general manager, that we will take And to fire Crazyhorse—and to do it right off.” Ané before the silk was turned o te us Crazyhorse was looking for other job. It is the only case on ord where a freight hustler was dis- cherged for getting business. There were twelve carloads; it was insured for eighty-five thousand dol- lars a car. You can figure how far the title is wrong, but you never can estimate the worry that stuff gave us, It looked as big as twelve million dol- lars' worth. In fact, one scrub-car tink, with the glory of the West End at heart, had a fight over the amount with a skeptical hostler. He main- tained that the actual money was a hundred end twenty millions; but I give you the figures just as they * he thundered, b “pot in a hun ourse! his fist move it care of it wire him rec- value went over the wire, and they are right What bothered us most was that the strikers had the tip almost as soon as we had it. Having friends on every road in the they much about our business as we our- selves. The minute it that we should move the silk, they were after us. It was a defiance; a last one. If we could move freight— for already moving passen- gers after a fashion—the strike might be well accounted beaten. Stewart, the leader of the local con- tingent, together with his fe got after me at once “You don’t said bhe. ing your country knew as was announced we were sllows, 10w much sense, Reed,” “You fellows here are break- necks to get things moving, apd when this strike’s over if our boys dischzs they'll get it. This road can't run without our en- gineers. We're going to beat you. If you dare to move this stuff we'll have your scalp when it’s over. You'll never get your silk to Zanesville. T'll And if you ditch it and make a milli dollar Joss, you'll get let out anyway, my buck.” “I'm here to obey orders, Stewart,” I retorted. What was the use of more? 1 felt uncomfortable; but we had de- termined to move the silk; there was nothing more to be said. When I went over to the roundhouse and told Neighbor the decision he said never a word, but he looked a great deal. Neighbor's task was to. supply the motive power. All that we had, un- crippled, was in the passenger service, because passengers must be moved— must be taken care of first of all. In order to win a strike you must have public opinion on your side. afk for your ge promise you that “Nevertheless, Neighbor,” after we had talked awhile, move the silk aiso.” Neighbor studied; his foreman “Send Bertholomew Mu!l He spoke me think the business was done happened, said T, “we must then he roared at en here.” with a decision that made . I had to hear of lomew Mullen in the department ive power; the impression gave me was of & monstrous big as Neighbor, or old man Sankey, or Dad Hamilton. “I'll put Bartholomew ahead muttered Neighbor tightly. walked into the office. Mr. it is true, but the ame ow of it,” A boy en said ¥ou wanted to.see me, =ir,” ‘said he, addressing the mas- ter’ mechanie ‘I . do,. " Bartholomew,” Neighbor The figure in my mind's eye shrunk Then it occurred to me be this boy's father who responded You have been begging for a chance to take out an engine, Bartholomew,” began Neighbor coldly; and I knew it was on “Yes, sir.” “You want to get killed; Bartholo- mew Bartholomew smiled, as if the idea was not altogether displeasing. “How would you like to go pilot to- morrow for McCurdy? You to take the 44 and run as first Seventy-eight. McCurdy Will run as second Seventy- eight “I know I could run an engine all right,” ventured Bartholomew, as it Neighbor were the only ong.taking the chances in giving him an engige. *I W the track from here to Zanes- ville. I helped * McNeft .for week.” “Then go home and go to. bed, and be here at § o’clock to-morrow morn- ing, ‘And sleep. sound; for it may be your last chance.” It was plain that the master me- chanic hated to do it; it was simply sheer necessity. one “He's a wiper,” mused Neighbor, as . Bartholomew walked = sprightly away. “I took him'in here sweeping two years ago.- He ought to be firing now, but the union-held him back. That's why he hates theni. He knoys more about an engine now. the lodge. than-half They'd better have let him in,” said the master mechdnic grimly. “He may be * the means of breaking their backs yet. < If I give him an ep- gine and he runs it Il never take Rim off, union ‘or no union, strike or no strike.” “How old is that boyv?” I asked. ‘Eighteen; ‘and never a'kith or kin that I know of. Bartholomew Mil- len,” mused Neighbor, as the slight figure moved = across the flat; “big name, small boy. Well, Bartholomew, you'll’ know something more . by to- morrow night abount running an en- gine, or a whole lot less. That's as it happens. *If he gets killed, it's your fault, Reed.”, : He meant that I was calling on him for men when ke absolutely ceuldnt produce them. “I heard one a fellow " he went on, “about ramed Bartholomew being. mixed up in a massacre, ‘But I fake it he must have been an -oldér -man than our Bartholomew—mnor his other name wasn't ‘Mullén, neither. I dfsre- member just what it was, but it wasn't Mullen.” “Well, don’t say I want fo get the boy kilfed, . Neighbor,” I protested. “I've plenty to answer for.. I'm vhere to run trains—when there are any to run; that's murder enough for me. You peedn’t send Bartholomew uut on my account.” “Give him.a slow schedule, and I'nl give him orders to jump early; that's all we can do. If the strikers don't ditch him, he’ll get through' some- bow.” It stuck in my crop—the idea of BOT THEN HE putting the boy on a pilot engine to take all the dangers ahead of that par- ticular train; but I had a good deal else, tor. think of bzsides. From -the minute the silk got into ‘the. McCloud yards we posted ~double; guards around. About twelve o'clock that right we held a’council of war, which ended in our running the train into thc out freight hous The result was that by morning we had a new train made up. It consisted of fourteen refrig- erator cars loaded with oranges, which had come in mysteriously the night be- fore. unced that. the silk It was ann would be held for the present and the cranges rushed through. Bright and early the refrigerator train was run down to the iccziouses and twenty men were put to work icing the oranges. At seven o'clock McCurdy pulled in the local passenger with engine 105 Our »lan was to cancel the local and 1un him right otit with the oranges. When he got in- he reported the 105 had sprung a tire. It knocked our scheme into a cocked hat. There was a lantern-jawed confer- ence in the roundhouse. “What can you do?” asked the su- perintendent, in desperation. “There’s only one thing I can do. Put Bartholomew Muilen on it with ilhle 44, and put McCurdy to bed for No. 2 to-night,” responded Neighbor. ‘We were running first in; first out; but we took care to always have some- body for 1 and 2 who at least knew an injector from an air pump. It was 8§ o’'clock. I looked into the locomotive stalls. The first—the only —«man in sight was Bartholomew Mul- len. He was very busy polishing the 44. He had good staam on her and the old tub was wheezing as if she had -the asthma. The 44 was old; she was homely; she was rickety; but Bartholomew Mullen wined her bat- tered nose as deferentially as if she had been a_ spick-span, spider-driver, tail-truck mail-racer.’ / She wasn't much—the 44. But in those days Bartholomew wasn’t much, he 44 was Bartholomew's. ow’ is she steaming, Bartholo- mew?"” I sung out.’ He was right in the middle of her. Looking up, he fingered his waste modestly and blush- ed through a dab of crude petroleum over his eye.’ ! “Hundred and thirty, sir. terrible free steamer, the old 44. aj]l ready to r-- her out.” “Who's marked up to-fire for you, Bartholomew 2’ Bartholomew Mullen looked at me fraternaily. “Neighbor oouldn'tg'h'e me anybedy but a wiper,” said Bartholomew in a sort of wouldn't-that-kill-you tone. The unconscious arrogance of .the boy, quite Xkiiocked e, o soon had honors changed his point of view. Last night a despised wiper; at day- break an engineer; and his nose in the alr at the idea of taking on a wiper for fireman. And all so innocent. “Would you object, Bartholomew,” She’s a ‘I'm WAS CAUGHT 1 suggested ‘gently, “to E{:«inmuter for fireman 2% it “I.don’t—thirk: so, sl”' “Thank you; becauge I am going down to Zanesville this micrning my- self. and I thought 1'd ride with you. Is it all right?” ; “Qh, yes, sir—if Neighbor doesn’t care,” £ - 1 smiled. He didn’t know whom Neigh- bor took orders from; but he thought, evidently, nct from me. “Then run her down to the oranges and couple on, Bartholomew, and we'll order ourselves out. See?” The 44 really looked like a baby car- riuge when we got her in front of the refrigeratcrs. However, after the nec- essary preliminaries we gave a very sporty toot and pulled out. In a few minutes we were rolling down the val- ley. For fifty miles we bobbed along with our carzo of iced silk as easy as old choes, for I need hardly expiain that we had packed the silk info the refrig- erators to confuse the strikers. The great risk was that they would try to ditch us. I was watching the track as a mouse would a cat, looking every minute for trouble. We cleared the gumbo cut west of the Beaver at a pretty good clip in order to make the grade on the other side. "The bridge there is hidden in summer by a grcve of hack- berries. 1 had just pulled open to cool her a bit, when I noticed how high the backwater was on each side of the track. Suddenly I felt the fill going soft under the drivers—felt the 44 wob- ble and slew. Bartholomew shut off hard and”threw the air as I sprang to the window. The peaceful little creek ahead locked as angry as the Platte in ..pril water and the bottoms were a lake. Somewhere ‘up the valicy there had been a cloudburst, for overhead . the sun was bright. The Beaver was roar- ing over its banks and the bridge was out, Bartholomew screamed for brakes; it looked asthough we were ugainst lt, and hard. . A soft track to stop on, a torrent of stovm water shead.and tén hundred thousand dollars’ worth of; silk behind —not to mention equlpment. I yelled at Bartho\omew and mo- tioned for him to jurnp. my conscience" is clear .on that, peint.. The 44iwas: stumbling along, trying, like a drunk- en man to hang to the rotten”track. “Bartholomew!” , I yelled; but he was head put and looking back at train,’ whife he jerked frantically at the air lever. I understood; the air wouldn’t work; Mt never would. on those ©old tubs when you need it. The sweat pushed out on me. I was think- ing of how much the silk would ‘bring, us after a bath in the Beaver. Bar- tholomew stuck to his levers like a man in a signal tower, but every sec- ond brought us closer to open water. ‘Watching him, intent only on saving his first train, heedless of saving his life, I was really a bit ashamed to AT HIS HAND S ' jump. While I hesitated he somehow got the brakes to set; the old 44 bucked like a bronco. It wasn’t too soon. She checked her train“nobly at the last, but I saw noting could “kKeey her from the brink. I caught Bartholomew a tcr- rific slap ar: again 1 yelled; then! turning to the gateway, I dropped into the -soft mud on my side. The 44 hung low and it was_easy lightins. Bartholomeéw sprang from his seat a second later, but his blouse caught in the teeth of the quadrant. He stooped quick as thought and peeled the thing over his head. But then he was caught with his hands in the wristbands and the ponies of 44 tipped over the broken abutment. Pull as we would he couldn’t get free. The pilot dipped into the tor- rent slowly, but, losing her balance, the 44 kicked her heels into the air like lightning and shot with a fright- ened wheeze plbmp into the creel, dragging her engineer after her. The head car stood on the brink. Running across the track I looked for Bartholomew. “He wasn't there. I knew he must have gone down with his engine. Throwing off my gloves I dove, just as I stood close to the tender, which hung half submerged. I am a good bit of a fish under water, but no self-re- specting fish would be caught in that vellow mud. I realized, too, the in- stant I struck the water that I should have dived on the up-stream side. The current took'me away whirling. When I camre up for air I was fifty feet be- low the pier. I felt it was all up with Bartholometv as I scrambled out, but, to my amazement, as I shook my eyes open, the train crew were running forward, and there stood Bartholomew on theltrack above me, looking at the refrigerators. When I got to him he explained.to me how he was dragged in-and had to tear the sleeve out of his blouse under the’ water to get free. . The surprise is, how little fuss men make abous suchthings when they are busy. It took only five minutes’ for the conductor~to hunt up a coil of wire' and a sounder for me and by the time hé got forward with it Bartholomew was hal_l.way up-a telegraph pole to help me cut in on’'a live wire. Fastas 1 could I rigged a pony and began call- ing.the McCloud dispatcher. It was a rocky send,-but after no end of pound- lpg 1 got him' and gave orders for the wrecking gang and for<one more. of Ne!ghbors rapldly/ decreuln; supply of locomotives. Bartolomew, ‘sitting on. a - strip .of fence which still rose above the water, looked forlorn. To lose the first engine he_ever handled inthe Beayer wa.l tough and‘he’ was evidéntly -p!o'ul-fln‘ on his chances 'of ever getting another.' If there weren't tears in his eyes, there was storm water certainly. But after the relief engine pulled what was left of us back six miles to a siding I made gine, it my first business to explain to N rHE W RIST- BAMDS nearly beside himself, that was not only .not af Neighhor, Bartholomew fault, but that he had actually saved the train by his nerve. 34 “I'll tell you, Neighbor,” I suggeste: when we got straightened - arpund,. “dve us the 109 to go ahead as a’pilot, and run the stuff around the river divi- sion with Fole:r and the 216.”" ' “What'll do with ' No. 677 growled Neighbor. Six was the local passenger west. Annul it west of McCloud,” said I instantly. “We've got this silk on our hands now, and I'd move it if it tied up every passenger train on the divi- sion. If we can get the infernal stuff through it will practically beat the strike; if we fail, it will beat the com- pany.” By the time we backed to Newhall Junction Neighbor had made up his mind my way. Mullen and I climbed into ‘the 109, and Foley with the 216, and none too good a grace, coupled on to the silk, and flying red signals we started again for Zanesville over the river division. Foley was alwavs full of mischief. He had a better engine than ours any- way, and he took satisfaction the rest of the afternoon in crowding us. Every mile of the way he was on our heels. I was throwing the coal and distinctly remember. It was after dark when we reached the Beverly hill, and we took it at a lively pace. The strikers were not on our minds then; it was Foley who bothered. When the long, parallel steel lines of the upper yards spread before us, flashing under the arc lights,'we were away above yard speed. Ruhning a lo- comotive into one of those big‘yards is like shooting a rapid in a canoe. There is a bewildering maze of tracks lighted by red and green lamps to be watched the closest. The hazards are multiplied the minute you pass the throat, and a yard wreck is a dreadful tangle; it makes everybody from roadmaster to flagmen furious, and not even Barthol- omew, wanted to face on inquiry on a yard wreck. On the other hand, he couldn’t afford to be caught by Foley, who was chasing him out of pure ca- price. 1 saw the boy holding the throttle at a half and fingering the air anxiously as we jumped through the frogs; but the roughest riding on_track so far beats the ties as a cushion that when the 109 suddenly stuck her paws through an open switch we bounced against the roof of the cab like foot- balls. I grabbed a brace with one hand and with the other reached instinctive- ly across to ‘Bartholomew’s side to seize . the throttle he held. But as I tried to shut him off he jerked it wide open in spite of me, and turned, with lightning in his eye. “No!” he cried, and his voice rang hatd.’ The 169 took the -tremendous shove at her back and ‘leaped like a frightened horse. Away we went across the yard, through the cinders and over the tles. My teeth have never been the same since. I don’t belong on an en- and since then I have hept off. At ‘the moment I was conm- yer * jumped.on to another track. vinced that the strain had beem too much—that Bartholomew was stark crazy. He sat bouncing clear to the roof and clinging to his levers like a lobster. But his strategy was dawning on mx in fact, he was pounding it into me. Even the shock and ”‘Se, of leaving the track and tearing up the yard had not driven from Bartholomew’s noddle - the most important feature of our sit- uation, which was, above everything, to keep out of the way of the silk train. I felt every moment more mortifled at my attempt to shut him off. I had done the trick of the woman who grabs the reins. It was even better to tear up the yard than to stop for Foley to smash Into and scatter the silk over the coal chutes. Bartholomew’s deci- sion was ohe of the traits which make the runner—instant perception coupled to instant resolve. The ordinary dub thinks what he should have done to avoid disaster after it is all over; Bar- tholomew thought before. On we bumped, across frogs, through switches, over- splits and into target rods, when—and this is the miragle of it all—the 109 got her forefeet on & split switch, made a contact and‘sfter a slew or two, like a bogged horse, she swung. up sweet on the ralls sgain, tender and all. Barthelomew ‘shut off with an undercut that brought us up double and nailed her feet with the alr, right where she stood. ‘We had left the track, plowed & hundred feet across the yards. and It ts the only time I ever-heard of its happen- ing-anywhere, .but I was on the engine with Bartholomew.Mullen when it was done. Foley choked his train the instant he saw our. hind lights bobbing. We climbed down_and ran back. He had stopped just where we should have stood if I had shut off. Bartholomew ran to.the switch to examine it. The contact light, green, still burned like a false beacon, and lucky it did, for it showed the switch had beéen tmpu‘d with, and exonerated ~Bartholomew Mullen completely. The attempt of the strikers to spill the “silk.right in the’ yards .had only/made the reputa- tion of a new engineer.- Thirty min- utes later the million-dollar was turned over to'the Easterfi ai to ~wrestle with, and we breaxhea: all of us, a good bit easier. Bartholomew.Mullea, now.a. p-n- Ser yunner,: who ranks with' B‘.e‘incdy BARTHOLO ™1 \JL_L.E—F:" S and Jack Moore and Foley and George Sinclair himself; got a personal Jetter from the ‘'general ‘manager ¢ompli- menting him on his pretty wit, and he was good enough to say nothing whao ever about mine, ‘We registered that pight &4nd went to supper together—Foley, Jackson, Bartholomew and 1. Afterward we dropped into the - dispatcher’s office. Something was coming' from . Mc- Cloud, but the operators, to ‘'save their lives, couldn’t catch.it, minute. It was Neighbor. Now, Neighbor isn’t great ut .dispatching trains. ‘He can make himself under- stood over the pele, but his sending is like a boy’'s sawing wood—sort of un- even. However, though I am not much on running vards, I claim to be able to take the wildest ball-that was -ever thrown along the wire, and the chair was tendered me at once to catch Neighbor’s extraordinary passes at the McCloud key. Then came something like this: 2 To Opr-: Tell Massacree (that was the word that stuck them all, and I could per- ceive Neighbor was talking ‘emphati- cally; - he had- apparently: forgotten Bartholomew’s last name and was try- ing to connect with the one he had disremembered the night before). Tell Massacree (repeated Neighbor) that he is a-1-1 right. Tell him I give "un double mileage for to-day all the way I lstened a( through. And to-morrow he gets the & 109 to keep. Neighb-b-or.