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After these three and Smiler had finished their supper, Conductor Tobin lighted his pipe, and, climbing up into the cupola of the caboose, stretched himself comfortably on the cushioned seat arranged there for his especial accommodation. From here, through the windows ahead, behind, and on both sides of the cupola, he had an unobstructed view out into the night.
"Don't move nor nothin', or we'll blow holes through your figgers that'll cause a hell of a draught. We ain't yearning to make no sort o' mess in this yer caboose. But we're going to do it 'cep' you keep quite still, an' don't worry any." The conductor was a man of wide experience on the railroad. He had seen many "hold-ups." So many, he was almost used to them.
I remember the date well, for on that day the great Sisseton prairie fire burned up the town of Lone Tree. I saw the smoke as our train lay at Siding No. 13 while the conductor and the other railroad men nailed down snake's-heads on the track. One had come up through the floor of the caboose and smashed the stove and half killed a passenger.
She goes to the fence and spits a little spit after the caboose and puts out her little head and, if you'll believe me, HISSES at the train; and mother says she does that same every time she sees a train go by, and never crosses the tracks that she don't spit her little spit on 'em. What do you THINK of THAT?" "But I correct her every time," protested Mrs. Dyke seriously.
It was a week after this farewell supper in the caboose hotel at Saint's Rest when Ford went down to Denver to borrow, on his P. S-W. stock, the ten thousand dollars to be deposited to the credit of the Bank of Copah. Following him, and only one train behind, came Frisbie, new from a confirmatory survey of the extension beyond the Copah district.
The other was to Henry B. West. He had swung from the steps of the caboose and was in the station before the conductor. "I want to send two telegrams," he told the agent. "Here they are all ready. Rush 'em through. I want an answer here to the one to the superintendent." The wire to the railroad official read: Conductor freight number 17 refuses me siding to reload stock in my charge.
The fust of this week I seen him side-tracked down the road here in a caboose, while Doug went by in a special." "Abe is a plain man, Sam," the farmer answered solemnly. "But you watch out for him." It was ten o'clock when Stephen descended at his destination. Merciful night hid from his view the forlorn station and the ragged town. The baggage man told him that Mr. Lincoln was at the tavern.
Lite saw the last pair of wheels it owned go clipping over the switch, and he stood in the middle of the track and swore. Then he went to the telegraph office and found out that a freight left for Nogales in ten minutes. He hunted up the conductor and did things to his bank roll, and afterwards climbed into the caboose on the sidetrack.
"Well," said the first man, "I guess we'll take our chances and you can get into the caboose. You'll find blankets, and a bunk where you can lie down if you take off your boots. We'll dump you somewheres handy for catching the next east-bound." Foster found the caboose comfortably warm. There was a stove in the middle and two or three bunks were fixed to the walls.
De Catinat's bunk was next to a port-hole, and it was his custom to keep this open, as the caboose was close to him in which the cooking was done for the crew, and the air was hot and heavy. That night he found it impossible to sleep, and he lay tossing under his blanket, thinking over every possible means by which they might be able to get away from this cursed ship.
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