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"Oh, yes; McCloskey, my trainmaster, will be in from the wreck before morning, and he will turn flip-flaps trying to make things pleasant for you, if you will give him the chance."
It was by him that Isaac Hecker's vocation was, though not revealed, yet most wisely directed. Brownson told the young man that he ought to devote himself to the Germans in this country; Bishop Hughes advised him to go to St. Sulpice and study for the secular priesthood; Bishop McCloskey told him to become a religious.
"But how " Lidgerwood's thought went swiftly backward over the events of the preceding night. Judson's story had left Hallock somewhere in the vicinity of the Wire-Silver mine and the wreck at some time about midnight, or a little past, and there had been no train in from that time on until the regular passenger, reaching Angels at noon. It was McCloskey who relieved the strain of bewilderment.
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.
"He's the king-pin of the whole machine, and if you can pull him out, the machine will fall to pieces. What charge did you put in the warrant? I only hope it's big enough to hold him." "Train-wrecking and murder," said Lidgerwood, without looking around; and a moment later McCloskey went out, treading softly as one who finds himself a trespasser on forbidden ground.
One half-minute later the superintendent would have given much to be safely back with McCloskey and Dawson at the vanishing curve of scrap-heaps. In that half-minute Mr. Brewster had opened the car door, and Lidgerwood had followed him across the threshold. The comfortable lounging-room of the Nadia was not empty; nor was it peopled by a group of Mr.
"Pretty clean sweep this time, eh, Mac?" was the superintendent's greeting, when he had penetrated to the thick of things where McCloskey was toiling and sweating with his men. "So clean that we get nothing much but scrap-iron out of what's left," growled McCloskey, climbing out of the tangle of crushed cars and bent and twisted iron-work to stand beside Lidgerwood on the main-line embankment.
"Security or no security," said McCloskey, impatiently, "you'll have to give me the money it's not a bit of use now this disputin, bekase ye see I'm bound to have it, and ye are wise enough to know ye'd better give it to me.
Stevens. "But that was in a fair fight, and in hot blood; it isn't like planning to kill a man, squire." "Do you call it a fair fight when you steal up behind a man, and break his skull with a slung shot?" asked Mr. Stevens. McCloskey was unable to answer this, and sat moodily regarding his tempter. "Come, make up your mind to it you might as well," resumed Mr. Stevens, in a coaxing tone.
McCloskey wagged his shaggy head. "So you've said before, John, and not once or twice either." "I know, but every man gets to the bottom, some time. I've hit bed-rock, and I've just barely got sense enough to know it. Let me tell you, Mac, I've pulled trains on mighty near every railroad in this country and then some. The Red Butte is my last ditch.
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