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Updated: June 9, 2025
Again the mine-owner said "Why don't you?" and the other voice took up the question argumentatively. "First, because it is unnecessary, as I have explained. Lidgerwood is officially dead, right now. When the grievance committees tell him what has been decided upon, he will put on his hat and go back to wherever it was that he came from."
At this the trainmaster changed front so suddenly that Lidgerwood began to wonder if his estimate of the man's courage was at fault. "Don't do that, Mr. Lidgerwood, for God's sake don't stir up the devil in that long-haired knife-fighter at such a time as this!" he begged. "The Lord knows you've got trouble enough on hand as it is, without digging up something that belongs to the has-beens."
These, and similar bits of local history, were mere gatherings by the way for the superintendent, picked up while the Red Desert was having its laugh at the new bath-room, the pajamas, and the clean linen. They weighed lightly, because the principal problem was, as yet, untouched. For while the laugh endured, Lidgerwood had not found it possible to breach many of the strongholds of lawlessness.
"Day and night I am paying, paying, and the debt never grows less. If it wasn't for my mother and Faith ... but I must go on paying. I killed your brother " "No," she denied, "that was an accident for which you were no more to blame than he was: but you are killing me." Lidgerwood stood by, man-like, because he did not know enough to vanish.
It was Judson; and having seen him last toiling away man-fashion at the wreck in the Crosswater Hills, Lidgerwood hailed him. "Hello, Judson! How did you get here? I thought you were doing a turn with McCloskey." The small man's grin was ferocious. "I was, but Mac said he didn't have any further use for me said I was too much of a runt to be liftin' and pullin' along with growed-up men.
Lidgerwood was on the western division inspecting, with Benson, one of the several tentative routes for a future extension of the Red Butte line to a connection with the Transcontinental at Lemphi beyond the Hophras, when the news of the wreck reached Angels.
The draftsman was on the engine of the wrecking-train, and he dropped off to join the superintendent. "Not so bad for my part of it, this time," was his comment, when he had looked the wreck over. Then he asked the inevitable question: "What did it?" Lidgerwood beckoned him down the line and showed him the sprung rail.
"We had the timbers all ready to pull out the old and put in the new, and the shift was to be made to-day between trains. Last night every stick of the new stock disappeared." Lidgerwood was not a profane man, but what he said to Benson in the coruscating minute or two which followed resolved itself into a very fair imitation of profanity, inclusive and world-embracing.
McCloskey would have introduced the new superintendent when the train paused for the signal from the despatcher's window, but Gridley did not wait for the formalities. "Come aboard, Mr. Lidgerwood," he called, genially. "It's too bad we have to give you a sweat-box welcome.
Some years ago there was a building and loan association started here in Angels, the ostensible object being to help the railroad men to own their homes. Ever hear of it?" "Yes, but it was dead and buried before my time." "Dead, but not buried," corrected Lidgerwood. "As I understand it, the railroad company fathered it, or at all events, some of the officials took stock in it.
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