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Updated: June 25, 2025
Samuel went on to tell about the revelation at Callahan's. "And you took that to Dr. Vince!" she cried amazed. "Yes," said he. "And what did he say?" "He wouldn't have anything to do with it. And so it's all left to me." "And what are you going to do now?" "I don't know, Miss Gladys. For one thing, I think I shall have to see your father." "See my father!" gasped the girl. "Yes, Miss Gladys."
I don't more than half trust that young fellow, Dix, Callahan's day operator. And, by the way, Mr. Frisbie is sending me a stenographer from Denver. If the young man turns up while I am away, see if you can't get Mrs. Williams to board him." McCloskey promised and dropped off, and the one-car special presently clanked out over the eastern switches.
But before he could mount to the foot-board of the 1010, M'Tosh collared him. "Patsy, I have your orders, at last. Your passengers will be down in a few minutes, and you are to pull out ahead of the express." "Is it to Gaston I'm goin', Misther M'Tosh?" The fireman was standing by with the oil can and torch, ready to Callahan's hand, and the train-master drew the engineer aside.
Kilpatrick spoke to her she answered in a hoarse voice that appealed to one's sympathy. You felt that the hot room and dry cotton were to blame for such hoarseness; it had nothing to do with the weather. "Where are you living now, Maggie, dear?" the old woman asked. "I'm in Callahan's yet, but they won't keep me after to-day," said the child.
There is about one chance in a thousand that Callahan's crown-sheet won't get red-hot and crumple up on him in the last twenty miles. Let's take a car and go down to yard limits. We can sit in the office and hear what goes over the wires, even if we can't get a finger in to help Patsy out of his troubles."
"Tell the boss he can't shoot two av us to wanst; an' the wan that's left'll slap on the air," was Callahan's answer; and he slacked off a little to bring the following train within easy striking distance.
The Civic League isn't dead yet." And he took down the numbers of the two officers. There were no arrests made, and when the ousted three were clear of the room and the building, Kent asked an anxious question. "How near can they come to smashing us, M'Tosh?" "That depends on Callahan's nerve.
Yet his gauntleted hand never falls from the throttle-bar to the air-cock, and his eyes never leave the bubble appearing and disappearing at longer intervals in the heel of the water-glass. Shovel has stopped firing, and is hanging out of his window for the straining look ahead. Suddenly he drops to the footplate to grip Callahan's arm. "See!" he says.
"If Tischer is keeping close up behind, that would jeopardize more lives than Callahan's. But there is another thing that doesn't depend on nerve Patsy's or anybody's." "What is that?" "Water. The run is one hundred and eighty miles. The 1010's tank is good for one hundred with a train, or a possible hundred and sixty, light.
Before he got back, Halkett was under the cab window of the 1010, demanding to know with many objurgations why Callahan had stopped in the middle of the yards. "Get a move on you!" he shouted. "The express is right behind us, and it'll run us down, you damned bog-trotter!" Callahan's gauntleted hand shot up to the throttle-bar. "I'm l'avin', Misther Halkett," he said mildly.
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