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Updated: May 2, 2025
"If you will go back to the station again, Muskoke, I'll send for another operator, and go in the mine myself. Two operators could talk backwards and forwards easily on the piping. And " "But whar's the other operator?" interrupted the cowboy. "There is a freight due at the station in about twenty-five minutes.
With visions of Indians or robbers he sprang to the window, to discover a dim, tall figure dismounting on the platform. In alarm he turned to call the sleeping guard, but momentarily hesitating, looked again, the figure came into the light of the window, and with relief he recognized Iowa Burns, another of the Bar-O cowmen. "Hello, kid," said the newcomer, entering. "Where's Old Muskoke?"
I can give you a message to hand the engineer for the operator at Ledges, the next station a message asking the despatcher to send the Ledges operator down on the Mail. Someone could wait for him, and if there is no hitch he'd be here inside of an hour and a half." "That'll work!" exclaimed the boss. "That's it! You'll go, Muskoke?" "Sartenly. I'll get a fresh hoss, and wait fer him myself."
OK! Go ahead," ticked the despatcher. "Get back as soon as possible." "I will." "All right, Muskoke," cried Wilson, hastening forth, struggling into his coat as he ran. "Get round thar," shouted the cowboy, swinging the spare pony to the platform. Wilson went into the saddle with a neat bound. "Say, you've seen a hoss before, kid," observed Muskoka with surprise as he threw over the reins.
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