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Updated: June 5, 2025
By Special Orders No. 140, dated at headquarters northern division of Louisiana, June 21, 1865, Chaplain Thomas Callahan, 48th United States colored infantry, was assigned to duty with me as my assistant, and he has had charge of the department of complaints. He is a very capable and efficient officer, and his services are very valuable to the bureau.
But Halkett was still smarting from the indignities put upon him, and his comment was a vindictive threat. "I'll send that damned Irishman over the road for this, if it is the last thing I ever do!" he declared; and he confirmed it with an oath. But Callahan was getting his punishment as he went along.
You haven't heard, then?" continued Callahan, returning to his riddle about McCloud's job. "Why, Lance Dunning has gone into the United States Court and got an injunction against us on the Crawling Stone Line tied us up tighter than zero. No more construction there for a year at least.
"I see," said Justice Callahan; "so instead you thought you would knock him down." He turned to the plaintiff, inquiring, "Is there any truth in this story, Mr. Connor?" "Not a particle, your Honor," said the boss. "It is very unpleasant they tell some such tale every time you have to discharge a woman " "Yes, I know," said the judge. "I hear it often enough.
Leaving the roadmasters to care for their incoming forces, Callahan, with Smith Young's men for guides, took the footpath on the south side to the head of the cañon, where, above the break, an engine was waiting to run him to Sleepy Cat. When he reached the station Agnew was up at the material yard, and Callahan sat down in his shirt sleeves to take reports on train movements.
Birdie Callahan, who had worked in Ted's mother's kitchen for years, and who had gone back to her old job at the Haley House after her mistress's death, put it sadly, thus: "He was always th' han'some divil. I used to look forward to ironin' day just for the pleasure of pressin' his fancy shirts for him. I'm that partial to them swell blondes. But I dinnaw, he's changed.
One by one the suspicious circumstances remarshaled themselves; the feeling that I had been spied upon, the speedy publicity which my story had attained in the town where I had made my earliest attempt at wage-earning, the memorandum which Chief Callahan had consulted before sending me to the crooked coal company.
By heavens, if it's going to take three days to get one in we might as well dump a hundred cars of fruit into the river now and Bucks is looking to you to save them." "Looking to me?" echoed Glover, raising his brows. "What's the matter with Agnew?" "Oh, hang Agnew!" "If you like. But he is in charge of this division. I can't do anything discourteous or unprofessional, Callahan."
At that instant a stalwart young man, very angry and with one discolored eye that lent him an uncommonly truculent appearance, looked down on us from the upper hall; then he deliberately ignored the arguing policeman, strode to the head of the stairs and descended to the landing. "It's all right, Callahan," said Stodger to the discomfited blue-coat. The young man halted before us.
Resentment, which would have been quick in the operator a little earlier, had died in the few moments in which he had faced death. He answered only in the quietest way: "I am the night operator." "The deuce you are!" exclaimed the man bending over him. "Who are you?" demanded the operator, in turn. "I am Callahan, the night yardmaster."
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