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Updated: May 18, 2025
"All right, I don't care," he answered his sister in triumph. The air brakes began to make themselves felt, and shortly the train came to a grinding stop. "What station is this?" Thorpe asked the colored porter. "Shingleville, sah," the latter replied. "I thought so. Wallace, when did their mill burn, anyway? I haven't heard about it." "Last spring, about the time you went down." "Is THAT so?
Shingleville consisted of a big mill; the yards, now nearly empty of lumber; the large frame boarding-house; the office; the stable; a store; two saloons; and a dozen dwellings. The party at once fixed its eyes on this collection of buildings, and trudged on down the right-of-way with unhastening grimness. Their approach was not unobserved. Daly saw them; and Baker, his foreman, saw them.
And that was as far as the famous Shingleville raid ever got. Daly did his best to collect even circumstantial evidence against the participants, but in vain. He could not even get anyone to say that a single member of the village of Carpenter had absented himself from town that morning.
They turned and with one accord struck back for the railroad right-of-way which led to Shingleville, the town controlled by Morrison & Daly. The railroad lay for a mile straight through a thick tamarack swamp, then over a nearly treeless cranberry plain. The tamarack was a screen between the two towns.
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