April 17, 2025 • 22 mins
Teen telegraphers battle bandits, derail disasters, and outsmart thieves in Young Railroaders, a thrilling ride through America’s emerging West. Grit, brains, and bravery light the tracks.
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Speaker 1 (00:01):
The young Railroads by f Level Coombs, Chapter eighteen. With
the construction train on a newly made siding parallel to
the mainline tracks, and in the center of a rolling
vista of yellow brown prairie, stood a trampish looking train
of weather beaten passenger coaches and box cars. In the
(00:24):
sides of the latter small windows had been cut, and
from the roofs projected chimneys. North of the train to
a din of clanking, pounding, and shoveling, a throng of
men were laying ties and rails, driving spikes, and tightening
bolts in the construction of further short stretches of track.
(00:44):
It was the Yellow Creek Branch boarding and construction train,
and the laying of the sidings of the newly created
Yellow Creek Junction was the first step in the race
of the Middle Western and the K and Z. Some
miles below the southern horizon for the just discernible break
to the southwest in the blue line of the Dog
(01:05):
Rib Mountains, the coveted entrance to the new goldfields in
the valley beyond, and here the first of the construction
operators sent forward. Alex had been two days established in
the telegraph car. As he had anticipated, Alex was enjoying
the experience hugely. It was every bit as good as
(01:25):
camping out, he had declared over the wire to Jack,
having for an office a table at one end of
the old freight car, sleeping in a shelf like bunk
at the other end, and eating in the rough and
ready diner with the inspectors, foreman, time keepers and clerks
who shared the telegraph car with him. As well. The
work going on about him was a constant source of
(01:47):
interest during Alex's spare moments. On this the second day,
Alex had been particularly interested in the newly arrived track
laying machine, which did not actually lay track at all,
but by means of roller bottom chutes, fed out a
stream of rails and ties to the men ahead of it.
After supper, the wire being silent, Alex made his way
(02:10):
amid several trains of track material, already filling completed sightings
for a closer view of the big machine. There proved
to be less to see than he had expected, and
having climbed aboard the pilot car and examined the engine,
Alex ascended the tower from which a brakeman controlled the
movements of the train. On his right lay a string
(02:32):
of flats piled high with timbers for bridges and colverts.
Glancing along them, Alex was surprised to see a man's
head cautiously emerge from an opening in the lumber on
one of the cars and quickly disappear. On discovering him.
A moment after, he had a fleeting glimpse of the
intruder running low along the side of the train toward
(02:53):
the rear only a hobo. Alex decided on second thought,
for numbers of tramps had come through on the material trains,
and presently Alex returned to the telegraph car. Shortly after midnight,
the young operator was awakened by someone running through the
car and shouting for Construction Superintendent Finnan. When he caught
(03:16):
the word fire, he scrambled into his clothes and leaped
to the floor and out over the tops of the cars.
In the direction of the track machine was a dancing
glare in alarm. Alex joined the stream of men, dropping
to the ground all along the boarding cars, dodging through
the intervening trains. He brought up with an expression of relief,
(03:38):
beside not the track machine, but a car of bridge material.
Fanned by a brisk wind, flames were spouting from amid
the timbers. At several points already men were pitching the
burning beams over the side. However, and finding a shovel,
Alex joined those who were smothering them with sand tramps. Sure,
(04:00):
Alex heard another of the shoveler's remark angrily. Immediately then
he recalled the man he had seen from the track
machine tower, and pausing in his work, he counted the
cars back. It was the same car. Yes, Undoubtedly the
fire was the careless work of the tramp he had
seen running away. The force of firefighters was rapidly augmented,
(04:23):
and soon, despite the fresh breeze, the last of the
burning beams was smothered and all danger of a general
conflagration was passed. It was as Alex at last headed
back for the boarding train that a theory other than
the tramp theory of the origin of the fire occurred
to him. It came from a sudden recollection of Division
(04:44):
Superintendent Cameron's prediction of interference from the K and Z.
Could that be the real explanation, he asked himself with
some excitement. The first streak of dawn found Alex again
at the scene of the fire, bent on proving or
disproving the theory of incendiarism. Climbing aboard the scorched car,
(05:07):
he dropped to his knees and began carefully brushing aside
the sand with which the burning floor had been covered.
A few minute search produced the burned ends of shavings.
So the fight is on, observed Alex to himself gravely.
With several of the telltale fragments in his pocket. Alex
(05:29):
was about to leap to the ground when construction Superintendent
Finnan appeared. Good morning, my lad, you beat me here, eh,
he said genially, Well what do you make of it?
Alex sprang down beside him and produced the charred pine whitlings.
I found these on the bottom of the car, sir.
They don't seem to support the careless tramp theory, do they? Continuing,
(05:54):
Alex then told of the man he had seen there
the evening before. Do you think it was the word
work of the K and Z, sir? He concluded. The
Superintendent's lips were drawn tight. Yes, I believe it was.
Could you identify the man? I am afraid not, sir.
It was getting dusk, and he was five or six
(06:16):
carlings from me and running stooped over. Perhaps we could
follow his footsteps down the side of the train, Alex suggested,
good IDEA lead ahead, there has been a good deal
of tramping about, but we may pick them out. Proceeding
to the point several cars distant, at which he had
seen the stranger on the ground, Alex moved on slowly,
(06:39):
carefully inspecting the freshly turned but considerably trampled earth. The Superintendent,
following him a car length beyond the latter, suddenly paused,
retraced his steps a few feet, and, pointing out three
succeeding impressions, exclaimed, I think we have him word see
a long step He was running on his toes. Aided
(07:02):
by the known length of the stride, they continued following
the footprints with comparative ease. Passing the second car from
the end, they found the steps shortened, then changed to
a walk, probably turned in between this and the last car.
The superintendent observed, Yes, here they go, announced Alex, halting
(07:24):
at the opening between the two flats, He stood for
a moment, then went on through. Alex and the Superintendent
followed and continued toward the rear of the last car. Halfway,
Alex halted and with an ejaculation, stooped and picked up
something white, a small shaving Sir. The official took it.
(07:46):
That decides the matter, he said, probably it was sticking
to his clothes. He sat down here for some time,
did he not. Alex was pointing to a depression in
the earth well under the car between two ties, and
to the marks of boot heels. The Superintendent went to
his knees and closely examined the impressions left by the heels.
(08:10):
Good look here, he said, with satisfaction, the marks of spurs.
Our tramp was a horseman. Alex turned to look about.
Where would he have kept his horse? Superintendent Finnan led
the way beyond the cars into the open. A mile
distant and hidden from the boarding train by the cars
(08:32):
on the sidings, was a depression in the prairie, bordered
with low scrub. We'll have a look there, he said.
Some minutes later they stood in the bottom of the
miniature valley, beside the unmistakably fresh hoof prints of a
hobbled pony. The official was grimly silent as they retraced
their steps toward the construction train. They had almost reached
(08:54):
it when Alex, who had been examining the fragments of
burned shavings, broke the silence. Mister Finnan, let me see
the bit of shaving we found by the rear car, please.
There was a touch of excitement in Alex's voice, and
the superintendent halted. What is it? He asked, as he
produced the whittling. Alex glanced at it and smiling placed
(09:18):
it beside two of the charred fragments in his hand.
Look at these little ridges, sir. The same knife whittled
them all. The blade had two small nicks in it.
All we have to do now, Sir, is to find
the owner of the knife. A bright idea ward splendid,
exclaimed the superintendent heartily, But he added, as they moved on,
(09:42):
how are we going to find him? We can't very
well round up the whole dog Rib country and hold
a jackknife inspection. They came within sight of the bleached
out dining cars, basking in the morning sun. On the
steps of one of the old coaches was the figure
of a young Indian who had come from no one
(10:02):
knew where. The first day of their arrival and had
attached himself to the kitchen department. Alex laid his hand
on the Superintendent's arm. Mister Finnan, why not try it
a little hawk, it occurred to me, just as you spoke,
I will right now. You go on to breakfast, ward,
(10:22):
he directed, and see nothing of our suspicions or discoveries.
Very well, sir. The members of the telegraph car party
were leaving for the diner as Alex appeared. Hello Ward,
catch the early worm, inquired one of the track formen jocularly,
You mean did he shoot it, corrected a time clerk.
(10:46):
At this there was a general laugh and glancing about
for an explanation. Alex saw Elder, Superintendent Finnan's personal clerk,
and ed de camp hastily remove a cartridge belt and
revolver from his waist and tossed them into his bunk.
Elder was the one unpopular man in the telegraph car.
An undersized, aggressively important individual, just out of college and
(11:11):
affecting a stylish khaki hunting suit, natty leather leggings and
a broad brimmed hat. He bore himself generally as though
second in importance only to the construction superintendent himself, and
naturally he had promptly been made the butt of the party.
But you know, gravely, observed one of the inspectors as
(11:32):
they took their places about the plain board table in
the dining car some of these tramps are dangerous fellows.
They just as soon pull a gun on you as
borrow a dime. So there's nothing like being prepared, particularly
when one carries about such evidence of wealth and rank
as friend. Elder here at the chuckles which followed the clerk,
(11:55):
bridled angrily. Well anyway, Ryan, he retorted, I ready to
fight if one of them interferes with me. I'll not
stick up my hands and let him go through me
as you did once. Oh you wouldn't, Eh, No, I wouldn't.
In fact, I'd like to see anyone make me throw
up my hands, even if I didn't have a revolver.
(12:18):
Elder went on emphatically. I'd rather be shot, yes, sir,
I'd rather be shot than have to think afterwards that
I've been such a weak need coward. And that's what
I think of any man who would permit a low
down tramp to go through his pockets. Loud applause greeted
these remarks, clapping, banging of plates, and cries of hear, hear,
(12:41):
go it? Elder, show him up, HiT's on me? He
has me labeled? Okay, admitted Ryan, with marked humility. But then, gentlemen,
I protest, it is hardly fair to compare an ordinary
mortal to so remarkably courageous a man, as Elder, I claim.
It has not given many men to be that fearless.
(13:04):
Why with half an eye, as the old grammar say,
you can see courage sticking out all over him. All right, laugh,
But I never showed the white feather to a hobo,
Elder repeated, scathingly. No, but what is it? Kipling or
Shakespeare says, while there's life, there's soap, observed Ryan, a
(13:27):
sudden twinkle appearing in his eye. The inspector explained the
meaning of his facetiously garbled quotation. When Elder left the table,
the proposal he made was greeted with enthusiasm. Work had
been started on the branch road itself that morning, and
on returning to the telegraph car at noon, the superintendent's
(13:47):
clerk found most of the party there before him, preparing
for dinner. An animated debate which was in progress, ceased
as he entered, and someone exclaimed, here he is now,
he'd soon start draighten them up. What is the trouble men,
inquired Elder, with the air of a sergeant major. Our
two head spikers had a disagreement this morning and have
(14:11):
gone across the yards to settle it, explained one of
the time keepers through his towel. Couldn't you go after
them and interfere? They may put each other out of commission,
refuse to listen to me or the foreman. The childish
idiots certainly agreed Elder, turning back to the door. Which
way did they go straight across the yard? But hadn't
(14:35):
you better take your gun? The time clerk suggested, they
are a pair of pretty tough customers. Well, perhaps I had,
since you mention it, Elder responded. Going to his bunk,
he secured and buckled on the belt, drew the revolver
from its holster to examine it, and set forth grimly.
As he disappeared, the men in the car broke into
(14:57):
barely subdued splutterings of laughter and crowding to the door.
Waited expectantly with an air of responsibility and determination. The
clerk made his way between the adjacent cars. There were
six tracks filled with the long trains of construction material.
He had passed the fifth and was stooping beneath the
couplings of two flats beyond, when from the other side
(15:20):
he heard footsteps, one hand on the butt of his revolver.
He leaped forth, uttering a choking cry. He sprang back.
Within a foot of his eyes were the barrels of
two big Colt's pistols, and looking over the tops of
them was a villainous handkerchief masked face, hands up, ordered
the tramp hoarsely. Elder's hands flew into the air immediately,
(15:45):
despite his fright, There returned the remembrance of his bows
that morning. He half made as though to bring his
hands down. Instantly, the cold muzzles of the pistols were
pressed close beneath his nose. With a wild flutter, Elder's
shot upward to their fullest stretch, come out ordered the tramp,
(16:06):
quaking and almost on tiptoes in his effort to keep
his hands aloft, Elder obeyed, lowering one of the pistols
and thrusting it into his belt. The tramp reached forward
and secured the clerk's revolver, dropping it to the ground
beneath his feet. Now, mister superintendent, he ordered, gruffly, hand
over your roll. Why I'm not the superintendent, quavered Elder, hopefully,
(16:33):
I am only a clerk, clerk nothing. Don't you think
I know a superintendent when I see one out with
those yellow backs you drew yesterday? Or by gum? The
pistol was again thrust under his nose, and Elder blanched.
But I'm not the superintendent. Honestly, I'm not, he protested,
(16:55):
I am only a clerk, and I get only get Yes,
come on, you only get thundered the tramp. I only
get thirty five dollars a month, whispered the clerk, only
thirty five bones a month. Well buy gum. The tramp
looked the shrinking clerk over with unspeakable contempt. Why there
(17:19):
ain't a dago shoveler in the outfit? Doesn't get more
than that? Very well? Then he conceded loftily, you can
keep your coppers. I never let it be said I
robbed the poor, But I tell you what I will have,
he went on. Suddenly, them clothes are sure too good
for any man not gettin as much money as a dago. These,
(17:44):
indicating his own tattered and grimy garments, are more in
your line. Come on, peel off. The trimly dressed clerk stared, aghasp,
you surely don't mean, I surely do mean. Shell off,
roared the tramp, and utterly beyond belief. As it was
(18:05):
ten minutes later, Elder was surveying himself in the unspeakable
rags of the hobo, and the latter before him was
ridiculously attired in his own natty, smaller garments. Having then
removed Elder's fancy stetson and clamped his own greasy and
battered Christie down to the clerk's ears, the tramp had
(18:25):
one further humiliation. Pointing to a clump of black oily
waist hanging from a nearby axle box, he ordered, pull
out a bunch of that. Slowly, wondering Elder did so.
No one would believe you were a genuine hobo with
such a scandalously clean face as that rub the waist
(18:47):
over it, commanded the tramp. This was too much. Blindly,
Elder turned to escape Instantly, both pistols were once more
at his head and In final abject surrender, he slowly
rubbed the black cargrease upon his cheeks. Very good, little
on the forehead, now directed the relentless tramp. Now the
(19:10):
ears go on, very good. Now you may go. Frantically,
Elder spun about and dove between the cars. As he
did so, behind him roared out six quick pistol shots. Blindly,
he scrambled under the next train. Shouts rose ahead of him. Help, help,
(19:31):
he cried, Tramps, tramps. Help from the boarding cars broke
out a hubbub of excitement. Tramps, tramps, he shrilled. Scuttling
beneath the third train on the other side, he suddenly
pulled up. He had forgotten his outlandish appearance. What if
men sprang into view from between the cars farther down?
(19:52):
Here he is, they shouted, instantly, heading for him. It's me, Elder,
cried the apparent tramp. More men appeared. The tramp who
burned the car rose the cry, lynch him, lynch him.
Elder dove back the way he had come. The trackmen
raced for the nearest openings and dove after. As Elder
(20:15):
dashed for the next train, several of his pursuers sprang
into view, but a car length away. Head him off,
don't let him get away, they shouted madly. Elder rushed on,
darted beneath the last string of flats, and on out
into the open. A figure was approaching on horseback. He
recognized Superintendent Finnan. Uttering a cry of hope, he headed
(20:38):
for him. At sight of the desperately running figure with
his grimy face and flapping rags, the Superintendent pulled up
in sheer amazement. When the stream of men broke through
the train and poured after, yelping like a pack of hounds,
he urged his horse forward, catch him, stop him, shouted
the pursuers. It's me Elder, screamed the clerk. Elder Elder,
(21:03):
a big irishman a pick handle in his hand, was
gaining on the supposed tramp at every bound, roaring alfixia
al fixcha y furman. With a last desperate sprint, the
flying clerk reached the horse and threw himself at the
Superintendent's stirrups. It's Elder, mister Finnan, he gasped, Elder Elder.
(21:25):
The Superintendent gazed down into the blackened face an instant,
then suddenly doubled up over his horse's head, rocking and
shaking in a convulsion of laughter. The action saved the
clerk from the irishman. The descending pick handle halted in
mid air the Wheelder gazed open mouthed at the convulsed official, then, suddenly,
grasping the clerk's head, twisted it about and staggering back,
(21:49):
roaring and shouting at the top of his lungs. As
fast as the others arrived, the riot of merriment increased,
and when presently the superintendent moved on toward the train,
the crestfallen clerk still at his stirrup, they were the
center of a hilariously howling mob. The final blow came
when Elder entered the telegraph car. Carefully laid out in
(22:12):
his bunk were the garments he had surrendered to the tramp.
The incident had its final good result, however, the mangling
of Elder's vanity disclosed an unsuspected streak of common sense
and manliness, and a day or so after he frankly
thanked Ryan, the perpetrator of the joke, for having put
him right, and finally he became one of the most
(22:36):
popular men on the train. End of chapter
The young Railroads by f Level Coombs, Chapter eighteen. With
the construction train on a newly made siding parallel to
the mainline tracks, and in the center of a rolling
vista of yellow brown prairie, stood a trampish looking train
of weather beaten passenger coaches and box cars. In the
(00:24):
sides of the latter small windows had been cut, and
from the roofs projected chimneys. North of the train to
a din of clanking, pounding, and shoveling, a throng of
men were laying ties and rails, driving spikes, and tightening
bolts in the construction of further short stretches of track.
(00:44):
It was the Yellow Creek Branch boarding and construction train,
and the laying of the sidings of the newly created
Yellow Creek Junction was the first step in the race
of the Middle Western and the K and Z. Some
miles below the southern horizon for the just discernible break
to the southwest in the blue line of the Dog
(01:05):
Rib Mountains, the coveted entrance to the new goldfields in
the valley beyond, and here the first of the construction
operators sent forward. Alex had been two days established in
the telegraph car. As he had anticipated, Alex was enjoying
the experience hugely. It was every bit as good as
(01:25):
camping out, he had declared over the wire to Jack,
having for an office a table at one end of
the old freight car, sleeping in a shelf like bunk
at the other end, and eating in the rough and
ready diner with the inspectors, foreman, time keepers and clerks
who shared the telegraph car with him. As well. The
work going on about him was a constant source of
(01:47):
interest during Alex's spare moments. On this the second day,
Alex had been particularly interested in the newly arrived track
laying machine, which did not actually lay track at all,
but by means of roller bottom chutes, fed out a
stream of rails and ties to the men ahead of it.
After supper, the wire being silent, Alex made his way
(02:10):
amid several trains of track material, already filling completed sightings
for a closer view of the big machine. There proved
to be less to see than he had expected, and
having climbed aboard the pilot car and examined the engine,
Alex ascended the tower from which a brakeman controlled the
movements of the train. On his right lay a string
(02:32):
of flats piled high with timbers for bridges and colverts.
Glancing along them, Alex was surprised to see a man's
head cautiously emerge from an opening in the lumber on
one of the cars and quickly disappear. On discovering him.
A moment after, he had a fleeting glimpse of the
intruder running low along the side of the train toward
(02:53):
the rear only a hobo. Alex decided on second thought,
for numbers of tramps had come through on the material trains,
and presently Alex returned to the telegraph car. Shortly after midnight,
the young operator was awakened by someone running through the
car and shouting for Construction Superintendent Finnan. When he caught
(03:16):
the word fire, he scrambled into his clothes and leaped
to the floor and out over the tops of the cars.
In the direction of the track machine was a dancing
glare in alarm. Alex joined the stream of men, dropping
to the ground all along the boarding cars, dodging through
the intervening trains. He brought up with an expression of relief,
(03:38):
beside not the track machine, but a car of bridge material.
Fanned by a brisk wind, flames were spouting from amid
the timbers. At several points already men were pitching the
burning beams over the side. However, and finding a shovel,
Alex joined those who were smothering them with sand tramps. Sure,
(04:00):
Alex heard another of the shoveler's remark angrily. Immediately then
he recalled the man he had seen from the track
machine tower, and pausing in his work, he counted the
cars back. It was the same car. Yes, Undoubtedly the
fire was the careless work of the tramp he had
seen running away. The force of firefighters was rapidly augmented,
(04:23):
and soon, despite the fresh breeze, the last of the
burning beams was smothered and all danger of a general
conflagration was passed. It was as Alex at last headed
back for the boarding train that a theory other than
the tramp theory of the origin of the fire occurred
to him. It came from a sudden recollection of Division
(04:44):
Superintendent Cameron's prediction of interference from the K and Z.
Could that be the real explanation, he asked himself with
some excitement. The first streak of dawn found Alex again
at the scene of the fire, bent on proving or
disproving the theory of incendiarism. Climbing aboard the scorched car,
(05:07):
he dropped to his knees and began carefully brushing aside
the sand with which the burning floor had been covered.
A few minute search produced the burned ends of shavings.
So the fight is on, observed Alex to himself gravely.
With several of the telltale fragments in his pocket. Alex
(05:29):
was about to leap to the ground when construction Superintendent
Finnan appeared. Good morning, my lad, you beat me here, eh,
he said genially, Well what do you make of it?
Alex sprang down beside him and produced the charred pine whitlings.
I found these on the bottom of the car, sir.
They don't seem to support the careless tramp theory, do they? Continuing,
(05:54):
Alex then told of the man he had seen there
the evening before. Do you think it was the word
work of the K and Z, sir? He concluded. The
Superintendent's lips were drawn tight. Yes, I believe it was.
Could you identify the man? I am afraid not, sir.
It was getting dusk, and he was five or six
(06:16):
carlings from me and running stooped over. Perhaps we could
follow his footsteps down the side of the train, Alex suggested,
good IDEA lead ahead, there has been a good deal
of tramping about, but we may pick them out. Proceeding
to the point several cars distant, at which he had
seen the stranger on the ground, Alex moved on slowly,
(06:39):
carefully inspecting the freshly turned but considerably trampled earth. The Superintendent,
following him a car length beyond the latter, suddenly paused,
retraced his steps a few feet, and, pointing out three
succeeding impressions, exclaimed, I think we have him word see
a long step He was running on his toes. Aided
(07:02):
by the known length of the stride, they continued following
the footprints with comparative ease. Passing the second car from
the end, they found the steps shortened, then changed to
a walk, probably turned in between this and the last car.
The superintendent observed, Yes, here they go, announced Alex, halting
(07:24):
at the opening between the two flats, He stood for
a moment, then went on through. Alex and the Superintendent
followed and continued toward the rear of the last car. Halfway,
Alex halted and with an ejaculation, stooped and picked up
something white, a small shaving Sir. The official took it.
(07:46):
That decides the matter, he said, probably it was sticking
to his clothes. He sat down here for some time,
did he not. Alex was pointing to a depression in
the earth well under the car between two ties, and
to the marks of boot heels. The Superintendent went to
his knees and closely examined the impressions left by the heels.
(08:10):
Good look here, he said, with satisfaction, the marks of spurs.
Our tramp was a horseman. Alex turned to look about.
Where would he have kept his horse? Superintendent Finnan led
the way beyond the cars into the open. A mile
distant and hidden from the boarding train by the cars
(08:32):
on the sidings, was a depression in the prairie, bordered
with low scrub. We'll have a look there, he said.
Some minutes later they stood in the bottom of the
miniature valley, beside the unmistakably fresh hoof prints of a
hobbled pony. The official was grimly silent as they retraced
their steps toward the construction train. They had almost reached
(08:54):
it when Alex, who had been examining the fragments of
burned shavings, broke the silence. Mister Finnan, let me see
the bit of shaving we found by the rear car, please.
There was a touch of excitement in Alex's voice, and
the superintendent halted. What is it? He asked, as he
produced the whittling. Alex glanced at it and smiling placed
(09:18):
it beside two of the charred fragments in his hand.
Look at these little ridges, sir. The same knife whittled
them all. The blade had two small nicks in it.
All we have to do now, Sir, is to find
the owner of the knife. A bright idea ward splendid,
exclaimed the superintendent heartily, But he added, as they moved on,
(09:42):
how are we going to find him? We can't very
well round up the whole dog Rib country and hold
a jackknife inspection. They came within sight of the bleached
out dining cars, basking in the morning sun. On the
steps of one of the old coaches was the figure
of a young Indian who had come from no one
(10:02):
knew where. The first day of their arrival and had
attached himself to the kitchen department. Alex laid his hand
on the Superintendent's arm. Mister Finnan, why not try it
a little hawk, it occurred to me, just as you spoke,
I will right now. You go on to breakfast, ward,
(10:22):
he directed, and see nothing of our suspicions or discoveries.
Very well, sir. The members of the telegraph car party
were leaving for the diner as Alex appeared. Hello Ward,
catch the early worm, inquired one of the track formen jocularly,
You mean did he shoot it, corrected a time clerk.
(10:46):
At this there was a general laugh and glancing about
for an explanation. Alex saw Elder, Superintendent Finnan's personal clerk,
and ed de camp hastily remove a cartridge belt and
revolver from his waist and tossed them into his bunk.
Elder was the one unpopular man in the telegraph car.
An undersized, aggressively important individual, just out of college and
(11:11):
affecting a stylish khaki hunting suit, natty leather leggings and
a broad brimmed hat. He bore himself generally as though
second in importance only to the construction superintendent himself, and
naturally he had promptly been made the butt of the party.
But you know, gravely, observed one of the inspectors as
(11:32):
they took their places about the plain board table in
the dining car some of these tramps are dangerous fellows.
They just as soon pull a gun on you as
borrow a dime. So there's nothing like being prepared, particularly
when one carries about such evidence of wealth and rank
as friend. Elder here at the chuckles which followed the clerk,
(11:55):
bridled angrily. Well anyway, Ryan, he retorted, I ready to
fight if one of them interferes with me. I'll not
stick up my hands and let him go through me
as you did once. Oh you wouldn't, Eh, No, I wouldn't.
In fact, I'd like to see anyone make me throw
up my hands, even if I didn't have a revolver.
(12:18):
Elder went on emphatically. I'd rather be shot, yes, sir,
I'd rather be shot than have to think afterwards that
I've been such a weak need coward. And that's what
I think of any man who would permit a low
down tramp to go through his pockets. Loud applause greeted
these remarks, clapping, banging of plates, and cries of hear, hear,
(12:41):
go it? Elder, show him up, HiT's on me? He
has me labeled? Okay, admitted Ryan, with marked humility. But then, gentlemen,
I protest, it is hardly fair to compare an ordinary
mortal to so remarkably courageous a man, as Elder, I claim.
It has not given many men to be that fearless.
(13:04):
Why with half an eye, as the old grammar say,
you can see courage sticking out all over him. All right, laugh,
But I never showed the white feather to a hobo,
Elder repeated, scathingly. No, but what is it? Kipling or
Shakespeare says, while there's life, there's soap, observed Ryan, a
(13:27):
sudden twinkle appearing in his eye. The inspector explained the
meaning of his facetiously garbled quotation. When Elder left the table,
the proposal he made was greeted with enthusiasm. Work had
been started on the branch road itself that morning, and
on returning to the telegraph car at noon, the superintendent's
(13:47):
clerk found most of the party there before him, preparing
for dinner. An animated debate which was in progress, ceased
as he entered, and someone exclaimed, here he is now,
he'd soon start draighten them up. What is the trouble men,
inquired Elder, with the air of a sergeant major. Our
two head spikers had a disagreement this morning and have
(14:11):
gone across the yards to settle it, explained one of
the time keepers through his towel. Couldn't you go after
them and interfere? They may put each other out of commission,
refuse to listen to me or the foreman. The childish
idiots certainly agreed Elder, turning back to the door. Which
way did they go straight across the yard? But hadn't
(14:35):
you better take your gun? The time clerk suggested, they
are a pair of pretty tough customers. Well, perhaps I had,
since you mention it, Elder responded. Going to his bunk,
he secured and buckled on the belt, drew the revolver
from its holster to examine it, and set forth grimly.
As he disappeared, the men in the car broke into
(14:57):
barely subdued splutterings of laughter and crowding to the door.
Waited expectantly with an air of responsibility and determination. The
clerk made his way between the adjacent cars. There were
six tracks filled with the long trains of construction material.
He had passed the fifth and was stooping beneath the
couplings of two flats beyond, when from the other side
(15:20):
he heard footsteps, one hand on the butt of his revolver.
He leaped forth, uttering a choking cry. He sprang back.
Within a foot of his eyes were the barrels of
two big Colt's pistols, and looking over the tops of
them was a villainous handkerchief masked face, hands up, ordered
the tramp hoarsely. Elder's hands flew into the air immediately,
(15:45):
despite his fright, There returned the remembrance of his bows
that morning. He half made as though to bring his
hands down. Instantly, the cold muzzles of the pistols were
pressed close beneath his nose. With a wild flutter, Elder's
shot upward to their fullest stretch, come out ordered the tramp,
(16:06):
quaking and almost on tiptoes in his effort to keep
his hands aloft, Elder obeyed, lowering one of the pistols
and thrusting it into his belt. The tramp reached forward
and secured the clerk's revolver, dropping it to the ground
beneath his feet. Now, mister superintendent, he ordered, gruffly, hand
over your roll. Why I'm not the superintendent, quavered Elder, hopefully,
(16:33):
I am only a clerk, clerk nothing. Don't you think
I know a superintendent when I see one out with
those yellow backs you drew yesterday? Or by gum? The
pistol was again thrust under his nose, and Elder blanched.
But I'm not the superintendent. Honestly, I'm not, he protested,
(16:55):
I am only a clerk, and I get only get Yes,
come on, you only get thundered the tramp. I only
get thirty five dollars a month, whispered the clerk, only
thirty five bones a month. Well buy gum. The tramp
looked the shrinking clerk over with unspeakable contempt. Why there
(17:19):
ain't a dago shoveler in the outfit? Doesn't get more
than that? Very well? Then he conceded loftily, you can
keep your coppers. I never let it be said I
robbed the poor, But I tell you what I will have,
he went on. Suddenly, them clothes are sure too good
for any man not gettin as much money as a dago. These,
(17:44):
indicating his own tattered and grimy garments, are more in
your line. Come on, peel off. The trimly dressed clerk stared, aghasp,
you surely don't mean, I surely do mean. Shell off,
roared the tramp, and utterly beyond belief. As it was
(18:05):
ten minutes later, Elder was surveying himself in the unspeakable
rags of the hobo, and the latter before him was
ridiculously attired in his own natty, smaller garments. Having then
removed Elder's fancy stetson and clamped his own greasy and
battered Christie down to the clerk's ears, the tramp had
(18:25):
one further humiliation. Pointing to a clump of black oily
waist hanging from a nearby axle box, he ordered, pull
out a bunch of that. Slowly, wondering Elder did so.
No one would believe you were a genuine hobo with
such a scandalously clean face as that rub the waist
(18:47):
over it, commanded the tramp. This was too much. Blindly,
Elder turned to escape Instantly, both pistols were once more
at his head and In final abject surrender, he slowly
rubbed the black cargrease upon his cheeks. Very good, little
on the forehead, now directed the relentless tramp. Now the
(19:10):
ears go on, very good. Now you may go. Frantically,
Elder spun about and dove between the cars. As he
did so, behind him roared out six quick pistol shots. Blindly,
he scrambled under the next train. Shouts rose ahead of him. Help, help,
(19:31):
he cried, Tramps, tramps. Help from the boarding cars broke
out a hubbub of excitement. Tramps, tramps, he shrilled. Scuttling
beneath the third train on the other side, he suddenly
pulled up. He had forgotten his outlandish appearance. What if
men sprang into view from between the cars farther down?
(19:52):
Here he is, they shouted, instantly, heading for him. It's me, Elder,
cried the apparent tramp. More men appeared. The tramp who
burned the car rose the cry, lynch him, lynch him.
Elder dove back the way he had come. The trackmen
raced for the nearest openings and dove after. As Elder
(20:15):
dashed for the next train, several of his pursuers sprang
into view, but a car length away. Head him off,
don't let him get away, they shouted madly. Elder rushed on,
darted beneath the last string of flats, and on out
into the open. A figure was approaching on horseback. He
recognized Superintendent Finnan. Uttering a cry of hope, he headed
(20:38):
for him. At sight of the desperately running figure with
his grimy face and flapping rags, the Superintendent pulled up
in sheer amazement. When the stream of men broke through
the train and poured after, yelping like a pack of hounds,
he urged his horse forward, catch him, stop him, shouted
the pursuers. It's me Elder, screamed the clerk. Elder Elder,
(21:03):
a big irishman a pick handle in his hand, was
gaining on the supposed tramp at every bound, roaring alfixia
al fixcha y furman. With a last desperate sprint, the
flying clerk reached the horse and threw himself at the
Superintendent's stirrups. It's Elder, mister Finnan, he gasped, Elder Elder.
(21:25):
The Superintendent gazed down into the blackened face an instant,
then suddenly doubled up over his horse's head, rocking and
shaking in a convulsion of laughter. The action saved the
clerk from the irishman. The descending pick handle halted in
mid air the Wheelder gazed open mouthed at the convulsed official, then, suddenly,
grasping the clerk's head, twisted it about and staggering back,
(21:49):
roaring and shouting at the top of his lungs. As
fast as the others arrived, the riot of merriment increased,
and when presently the superintendent moved on toward the train,
the crestfallen clerk still at his stirrup, they were the
center of a hilariously howling mob. The final blow came
when Elder entered the telegraph car. Carefully laid out in
(22:12):
his bunk were the garments he had surrendered to the tramp.
The incident had its final good result, however, the mangling
of Elder's vanity disclosed an unsuspected streak of common sense
and manliness, and a day or so after he frankly
thanked Ryan, the perpetrator of the joke, for having put
him right, and finally he became one of the most
(22:36):
popular men on the train. End of chapter
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