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Updated: July 14, 2025
The ball grounds were to him the "Y" at the Junction, the shunting yards, or the turn bridge at the roundhouse, for Benny's father was an engineer, who ran the fast mail over the big western division of the new road, where mountains and forests were cut and levelled and tunnelled for the long, heavy transcontinental train to climb through, and in his own home the boy heard little but railroad talk, so he came by his preferences honestly.
At the latter place, where the mob was immense and most furious, the militia were overcome and besieged in a roundhouse, which it was then attempted to burn by lighting oil cars and pushing them against it. Fortunately the soldiers escaped across the river. The torch was applied freely and with dreadful effect. Machine-shops, warehouses, and 2,000 freight-cars were pillaged or burnt.
By the time the noon whistle blew at the roundhouse every trail and road into Sleepy Cat showed dust some of them an abundance. The hotel was naturally the center of attraction, and Main Street looked like a Frontier Day crowd.
"You wouldn't get through before next week," he said. "There's a couple of passenger engines in the roundhouse, but they ain't fired." The telegraph operator leaned out of the window and broke into the conversation. "Murphy's firing the big eleven for sixteen from Truesdale. You might take that." "Got a good man to run it?" asked Jim. "Jawn Donohue's on the switch engine," replied the operator.
Here was cause for exasperation, and a furious mob, composed of strikers, idle factory hands, and miners, tramps, communists, and outcasts, began its work of vengeance and plunder. Possessed of firearms, through breaking into a number of gun shops, they attacked the Philadelphia soldiers, who had withdrawn to the railroad roundhouse, and a fierce battle ensued.
As it turned out, their precipitancy was to cost them their chance of victory, for they began to riot while the three tradesmen were still handy to the roundhouse door, though, indeed, they had no knowledge, as had I, of the captain's ambuscade. I staggered into the saloon, and set Newman down upon the divan which ran around the half-round, and which was but a step from the hatch.
There were the tradesmen peering out of the roundhouse ports, with never a thought in their minds of disobeying his injunction. I had it from their own lips afterwards; it was not just surprise at the big fellow's sudden appearance that stayed their hands, it was the power of his personality. There was Mister Lynch, arrested by Newman's voice in mid-stroke, as it were.
"And you would," she flashed back at him, "if you'd take the foremanship. Only you can't. It wouldn't be right. And if I'm to stand by you it's only fair to let me do what I can." James Harmon proved even less a bother than Saxon had anticipated. For a fireman he was scrupulously clean, always washing up in the roundhouse before he came home.
Jawn grunted, and walked deliberately across the tracks and into the roundhouse, followed by his fireman. Murphy, the hostler, was hovering about the big throbbing locomotive, putting a final polish on the oil-cups and piston-rods. Jawn, without a word, climbed into the cab, and out over the tender, where he lifted the tank lid and peered down at the water. "Never mind that," the agent called.
Descending from this ruin-capped mesa, I noticed on the first terrace the remains of a roundhouse, or lookout, in the middle of which a cedar tree had taken root and was growing vigorously. Although the walls of this structure do not rise above the level of the ground, there is no doubt that they are the remains of either a lookout or circular tower formerly situated at this point.
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