Danger Signals

J >> John A. Hill and Jasper Ewing Brady >> Danger Signals

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[Illustration: "Quick as a flash the Kid had my arm."]

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DANGER SIGNALS

Remarkable, Exciting And Unique Examples Of The Bravery,
Daring And Stoicism In The Midst Of Danger Of
TRAIN DISPATCHERS AND RAILROAD ENGINEERS

By

JOHN A. HILL
and
JASPER EWING BRADY

ABSORBING STORIES OF MEN WITH NERVES OF STEEL,
INDOMITABLE COURAGE AND WONDERFUL ENDURANCE

Fully Illustrated

CHICAGO
JAMIESON-HIGGINS CO.
1902

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Copyright 1898, 1899
By S. S. McClure Co.

Copyright 1899
By Doubleday & McClure Co.

Copyright 1900
By Jamieson-Higgins Co.

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CONTENTS

PART I. PAGE

Jim Wainright's Kid 7

An Engineer's Christmas Story 35

The Clean Man and the Dirty Angels 57

A Peg-legged Romance 75

My Lady of the Eyes 97

Some Freaks of Fate 151

Mormon Joe, the Robber 191

A Midsummer Night's Trip 227

The Polar Zone 253

PART II.

CHAPTER

I. Learning the Business--My First Office 1

II. An Encounter with Train Robbers 11

III. In a Wreck 12

IV. A Woman Operator Who Saved a Train 25

V. A Night Office in Texas--A Stuttering Despatcher 33

VI. Blue Field, Arizona, and an Indian Scrimmage 42

VII. Taking a Whirl at Commercial Work--My First
Attempt--The Galveston Fire 52

VIII. Sending a Message Perforce--Recognizing
an Old Friend by His Stuff 62

IX. Bill Bradley, Gambler and Gentleman 68

X. The Death of Jim Cartwright--Chased off a Wire by a Woman 80

XI. Witnessing a Marriage by Wire--Beating a
Pool Room--Sparring at Long Range 87

XII. How a Smart Operator was Squelched--The Galveston Flood 96

XIII. Sending My First Order 104

XIV. Running Trains by Telegraph--How It is Done 111

XV. An Old Despatcher's Mistake--My First Trick 125

XVI. A General Strike--A Locomotive Engineer for a Day 137

XVII. Chief Despatcher--An Inspection Tour--Big River Wreck 147

XVIII. A Promotion by Favor and Its Results 160

XIX. Jacking up a Negligent Operator--A Convict
Operator--Dick, the Plucky Call Boy 168

XX. An Episode of Sentiment 185

XXI. The Military Operator--A Fake Report that
Nearly Caused Trouble 192

XXII. Private Dennis Hogan, Hero 203

XXIII. The Commission Won--In a General Strike 222

XXIV. Experiences as a Government Censor of Telegraph 237

XXV. More Censorship 246

XXVI. Censorship Concluded 257

XXVII. Conclusion 269

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List of Illustrations

PART I.

"Quick as a flash the Kid had my arm." Frontispiece

TO FACE
"I noticed his long, slim hand on the top of the
reverse-lever" 22

"It was a strange courting ... there on that engine" 70

"We carried him into the depot" 100

"He was the first man I ever killed" 176

"'Mexican,' said I" 236

"What seemed to be a giant iceberg...." 282

"A white city ... was visible for an instant" 292

PART II.

Facsimile of a completed train-despatcher's order 1

"Two of the men tied my hands in front of me" 16

"After many efforts I finally reached the lowest cross-arm" 30

"One of them picked up the lantern, and swaggering over to
where I sat all trembling...." 38

"He looked at me ... then catching me by the collar...." 100

"... Half lying on the table, face downward, dead by his own hand" 128

"'See here, who is going to pull this train?'" 144

"Are you not doing it just because I am a woman?" 190

"... Dennis, lying under the telegraph line. His left hand
still grasped the instrument" 219

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DANGER SIGNALS.

PART I.

JIM WAINRIGHT'S KID

As I put down my name and the number of the crack engine of America--as
well as the imprint of a greasy thumb--on the register of our roundhouse
last Saturday night, the foreman borrowed a chew of my fireman's
fine-cut, and said to me:

"John, that old feller that's putting on the new injectors wants to see
you."

"What does he want, Jack?" said I. "I don't remember to have seen him,
and I'll tell you right now that the old squirts on the 411 are good
enough for me--I ain't got time to monkey with new-fangled injectors on
_that_ run."

"Why, he says he knowed you out West fifteen years ago."

"So! What kind o' looking chap is he?"

"Youngish face, John; but hair and whiskers as white as snow.
Sorry-looking rooster--seems like he's lost all his friends on earth,
and wa'n't jest sure where to find 'em in the next world."

"I can't imagine who it would be. Let's see--'Lige Clark, he's dead;
Dick Bellinger, Hank Baldwin, Jim Karr, Dave Keller, Bill Parr--can't be
none of them. What's his name?"

"Winthrop--no, Wetherson--no, lemme see--why, no--no, Wainright; that's
it, Wainright; J. E. Wainright."

"Jim Wainright!" says I, "Jim Wainright! I haven't heard a word of him
for years--thought he was dead; but he's a young fellow compared to me."

"Well, he don't look it," said Jack.

After supper I went up to the hotel and asked for J. E. Wainright.

Maybe you think Jim and I didn't go over the history of the "front."
"Out at the front" is the pioneer's ideal of railroad life. To a man who
has put in a few years there the memory of it is like the memory of
marches, skirmishes, and battles in the mind of the veteran soldier. I
guess we started at the lowest numbered engine on the road, and
gossiped about each and every crew. We had finished the list of
engineers and had fairly started on the firemen when a thought struck
me, and I said:

"Oh, I forgot him, Jim--the 'Kid,' your cheery little cricket of a
firesy, who thought Jim Wainright the only man on the road that could
run an engine right. I remember he wouldn't take a job running
switcher--said a man that didn't know that firing for Jim Wainright was
a better job than running was crazy. What's become of him? Running, I
suppose?"

Jim Wainright put his hand up to his eyes for a minute, and his voice
was a little husky as he said:

"No, John, the Kid went away--"

"Went away?"

"Yes, across the Great Divide--dead."

"That's tough," said I, for I saw Jim felt bad. "The Kid and you were
like two brothers."

"John, I loved the--"

Then Jim broke down. He got his hat and coat, and said:

"John, let's get out into the air--I feel all choked up here; and I'll
tell you a strange, true story--the Kid's story."

As we got out of the crowd and into Boston Common, Jim told his story,
and here it is, just as I remember it--and I'm not bad at remembering.

"I'll commence at the beginning, John, so that you will understand. It's
a strange story, but when I get through you'll recall enough yourself to
prove its truth.

"Before I went beyond the Mississippi and under the shadows of the Rocky
Mountains, I fired, and was promoted, on a prairie road in the Great
Basin well known in the railway world. I was much like the rest of the
boys until I commenced to try to get up a substitute for the link
motion. I read an article in a scientific paper from the pen of a
jackass who showed a Corliss engine card, and then blackguarded the
railroad mechanics of America for being satisfied with the link because
it was handy. I started in to design a motion to make a card,
but--well, you know how good-for-nothing those things are to pull loads
with.

"After my first attempt, I put in many nights making a wooden model for
the Patent Office. I was subsequently informed that the child of my
brain interfered with about ten other motions. Then I commenced to
think--which I ought to have done before. I went to studying _what had
been done_, and soon came to the conclusion that I just knew a
little--about enough to get along running. I gave up hope of being an
inventor and a benefactor of mankind, but study had awakened in me the
desire for improvement; and after considerable thought I came to the
conclusion that the best thing I could do was to try to be the best
runner on the road, just as a starter. In reality, in my inmost soul, my
highest ideal was the master mechanic's position.

"I was about twenty-five years old, and had been running between two or
three years, with pretty good success, when one day the general master
mechanic sent for me. In the office I was introduced to a gentleman,
and the G. M. M. said to him in my presence:

"'This is the engineer I spoke to you of. We have none better. I think
he would suit you exactly, and, when you are through with him, send him
back; we are only lending him, mind,' and he went out into the shop.

"The meaning of it all was that the stranger represented a firm that had
put up the money to build a locomotive with a patent boiler for burning
a patent fuel--she had an improved valve motion, too--and they had asked
our G. M. M. for a good engineer, to send East and break in and run the
new machine and go with her around the country on ten-day trials on the
different roads. He offered good pay, it was work I liked, and I went. I
came right here to Boston and reported to the firm. They were a big
concern in another line, and the head of the house was a relative of our
G. M. M.--that's why he had a chance to send me.

"After the usual introductions, the president said to me:

"'Now, Mr. Wainright, this new engine of ours is hardly started yet.
The drawings are done, and the builders' contract is ready to sign; but
we want you to look over the drawings, to see if there are any practical
suggestions you can make. Then stay in the shops, and see that the work
is done right. The inventor is not a practical man; help him if you can,
for experience tells us that ten things fail because of bad _design_
where one does because of bad manipulation. Come up into the
drawing-room, and I will introduce you to the inventor.'

"Up under the skylight I met the designer of the new engine, a mild
little fellow--but he don't figure in this story. In five minutes I was
deep in the study of the drawings. Everything seemed to be worked out
all right, except that they had the fire-door opening the wrong way and
the brake-valve couldn't be reached--but many a good builder did that
twenty years ago. I was impressed with the beauty of the drawings--they
were like lithographs, and one, a perspective, was shaded and colored
handsomely. I complimented him on them.

"'They are beautiful, sir,' he said; 'they were made by a lady. I'll
introduce you to her.'

"A bright, plain-faced little woman with a shingled head looked up from
her drawing-board as we approached, shook hands cordially when
introduced, and at once entered into an intelligent discussion of the
plans of the new record-beater.

"Well, it was some months before the engine was ready for the road, and
in that time I got pretty well acquainted with Miss Reynolds. She was
mighty plain, but sharp as a buzz-saw. I don't think she was really
homely, but she'd never have been arrested for her beauty. There was
something 'fetching' about her appearance--you couldn't help liking her.
She was intelligent, and it was such a novelty to find a woman who knew
the smoke stack from the steam chest. I didn't fall in love with her at
all, but I liked to talk to her over the work. She told me her story;
not all at once, but here and there a piece, until I knew her history
pretty well.

"It seems that her father had been chief draughtsman of those works for
years, but had lately died. She had a strong taste for mechanics, and
her father, who believed in women learning trades, had taught her
mechanical drawing, first at home and then in the shop. She had helped
in busy times as an extra, but never went to work for regular wages
until the death of her father made it necessary.

"She seemed to like to hear stories of the road, and often asked me to
tell her some thrilling experience the second time. Her eyes sparkled
and her face kindled when I touched on a snow-bucking experience. She
often said that if she was a man she'd go on the railroad, and after
such a remark she would usually sigh and smile at the same time. One
day, when the engine was pretty nearly ready, she said to me:

"'Mr. Wainright, who is going to fire the Experiment?'

"'I don't know. I had forgot about that; I'll have to see about it.'

"'It wouldn't be of much use to get an experienced man, would it--the
engine will burn a new fuel in a new way?'

"'No,' said I, 'not much.'

"'Now,' said she, coloring a little, 'let me ask a favor of you. I have
a brother who is just crazy to go out firing. I don't want him to go
unless it's with a man I can trust; he is young and inexperienced, you
know. Won't you take him? Please do.'

"'Why, I'll be glad to,' said I. 'I'll speak to the old man about it.'

"'Don't tell him it's my brother.'

"'Well, all right.'

"The old man told me to hire whoever I liked, and I told Miss Reynolds
to bring the boy in the morning.

"'Won't you wait until Monday? It will be an accommodation to me.'

"Of course I waited.

"The next day Miss Reynolds did not come to the office, and I was busy
at the shop. Monday came, but no Miss Reynolds. About nine o'clock,
however, the foreman came down to the Experiment with a boy, apparently
about eighteen years old, and said there was a lad with a note for me.

"Before reading the note I shook hands with the boy, and told him I knew
who he was, for he looked like his sister. He was small, but wiry, and
had evidently come prepared for business, as he had some overclothes
under his arm and a pair of buckskin gloves. He was bashful and quiet,
as boys usually are during their first experience away from home. The
note read:

"'DEAR MR. WAINRIGHT.--This will be handed you by brother George. I
hope you will be satisfied with him. I know he will try to please
you and do his duty; don't forget how green he is. I am obliged to
go into the country to settle up some of my father's affairs and
may not see you again before you go. I sincerely hope the
"Experiment," George, and his engineer will be successful. I shall
watch you all.

"'G. E. REYNOLDS.'

"I felt kind of cut up, somehow, about going away without bidding Old
Business--as the other draughtsman called Miss Reynolds--good-by; but I
was busy with the engine.

"The foreman came along half an hour after the arrival of young
Reynolds, and seeing him at work cleaning the window glass, asked who he
was.

"'The fireman,' said I.

"'What! that kid?'

"And from that day I don't think I ever called young Reynolds by any
other name half a dozen times. That was the 'Kid' you knew. When it came
quitting time that night, I asked the Kid where they lived, and he said,
Charlestown. I remarked that his voice was like his sister's; but he
laughed, and said I'd see difference enough if they were together; and
bidding me good-night, caught a passing car.

"We broke the Experiment in for a few days, and then tackled half a
train for Providence. She would keep her water just about hot enough to
wash in with the pump on. It was a tough day; I was in the front end
half the time at every stop. The Kid did exactly what I told him, and
was in good spirits all the time. I was cross. Nothing will make a man
crosser than a poor steamer.

"We got to Providence in the evening tired; but after supper the Kid
said he had an aunt and her family living there, and if I didn't mind,
he'd try to find them. I left the door unlocked, and slept on one side
of the bed, but the Kid didn't come back; he was at the engine when I
got there the next morning.

"The Kid was such a nice little fellow I liked to have him with me, and,
somehow or other (I hardly noticed it at the time), he had a good
influence on me. In them days I took a drink if I felt like it; but the
Kid got me into the habit of taking lemonade, and wouldn't go into
drinking places, and I soon quit it. He gave me many examples of
controlling my temper, and soon got me into the habit of thinking before
I spoke.

"We played horse with that engine for four or five weeks, mostly around
town, but I could see it was no go. The patent fuel was no good, and the
patent fire-box little better, and I advised the firm to put a standard
boiler on her and a pair of links, and sell her while the paint was
fresh. They took my advice.

"The Kid and I took the engine to Hinkley's, and left her there; we
packed up our overclothes, and as we walked away, the Kid asked: 'What
will you do now, Jim?'

"'Oh, I've had a nice play, and I'll go back to the road. I wish you'd
go along.'

"'I wouldn't like anything better; will you take me?'

"'Yes, but I ain't sure that I can get you a job right away.'

"'Well, I could fire for you, couldn't I?'

"'I'd like to have you, Kid; but you know I have a regular engine and a
regular fireman. I'll ask for you, though.'

"'I won't fire for anybody else!'

"'You won't! What would you do if I should die?'

"'Quit.'

"Get out!'

"'Honest; if I can't fire for you, I won't fire at all.'

"I put in a few days around the 'Hub,' and as I had nothing to do, my
mind kept turning to Miss Reynolds. I met the Kid daily, and on one of
our rambles I asked him where his sister was.

"'Out in the country.'

"'Send word to her that I am going away and want to see her, will you,
Kid?'

"'Well, yes; but Sis is funny; she's too odd for any use. I don't think
she'll come.'

"'Well, I'll go and see her.'

"'No, Sis would think you were crazy.'

"'Why? Now look here Kid, I like that sister of yours, and I want to see
her.'

"But the Kid just stopped, leaned against the nearest building, and
laughed--laughed until the tears ran down his cheeks. The next day he
brought me word that his sister had gone to Chicago to make some
sketches for the firm and hoped to come to see us after she was through.
I started for Chicago the day following, the Kid with me.

"I had little trouble in getting the Kid on with me, as my old fireman
had been promoted. I had a nice room with another plug-puller, and in a
few days I was in the old jog--except for the Kid. He refused to room
with my partner's fireman; and when I talked to him about saving money
that way, he said he wouldn't room with any one--not even me. Then he
laughed, and said he kicked so that no one could room with him. The Kid
was the butt of all the firemen on account of his size, but he kept the
cleanest engine, and was never left nor late, and seemed more and more
attached to me--and I to him.

"Things were going along slick enough when Daddy Daniels had a row with
his fireman, and our general master mechanic took the matter up.
Daniels' fireman claimed the run with me, as he was the oldest man, and,
as they had an 'oldest man' agreement, the master mechanic ordered
Smutty Kelly and the Kid changed.

"I was not in the roundhouse when the Kid was ordered to change, but he
went direct to the office and kicked, but to no purpose. Then he came to
me.

"'Jim,' said he, with tears in his eyes, 'are you satisfied with me on
the 12?'

"'Why, yes, Kid. Who says I'm not?'

"'They've ordered me to change to the 17 with that horrible old ruffian
Daniels, and Smutty Kelly to go with you.'

"'They have!' says I. 'That slouch can't go out with me the first time;
I'll see the old man.'

"But the old man was mad by the time I got to him.

"'That baby-faced boy says he won't fire for anybody but you; what have
you been putting into his head?'

"'Nothing; I've treated him kindly, and he likes me and the 12--that's
the cleanest engine on the--'

"'Tut, tut, I don't care about that; I've ordered the firemen on the 12
and 17 changed--and they are going to be changed.'

"The Kid had followed me into the office, and at this point said, very
respectfully:

"'Excuse me, sir, but Mr. Wainright and I get along so nicely together.
Daniels is a bad man; so is Kelly; and neither will get along with
decent men. Why can't you--'

"'There! stop right there, young man. Now, will you go on the 17 _as
ordered_?'

"'Yes, if Jim Wainright runs her.'

"'No _ifs_ about it; will you go?'

"'No, sir, I won't!'

"'You are discharged, then.'

"'That fires me, too,' said I.

"'Not at all, not at all; this is a fireman row, Jim.'

"I don't know what struck me then, but I said:

"'No one but this boy shall put a scoop of coal in the 12 or any other
engine for me; I'll take the poorest run you have, but the Kid goes with
me.'

"Talk was useless, and in the end the Kid and I quit and got our time.

"That evening the Kid came to my room and begged me to take my job back
and he would go home; but I wouldn't do it, and asked him if he was sick
of me.

"'No, Jim,' said he. 'I live in fear that something will happen to
separate us, but I don't want to be a drag on you--I think more of you
than anybody.'

"They were buying engines by the hundred on the Rio Grande and Santa Fe
and the A. & P. in those days, and the Kid and I struck out for the
West, and inside of thirty days we were at work again.

"We had been there three months, I guess, when I got orders to take a
new engine out to the front and leave her, bringing back an old one. The
last station on the road was in a box-car, thrown out beside the track
on a couple of rails. There was one large, rough-board house, where they
served rough-and-ready grub and let rooms. The latter were stalls, the
partitions being only about seven feet high. It was cold and bleak, but
right glad we were to get there and get a warm supper. Everything was
rough, but the Kid seemed to enjoy the novelty. After supper I asked the
landlord if he could fix us for the night.

"'I can jest fix ye, and no more,' said he; 'I have just one room left.
Ye's'll have to double up; but this is the kind o' weather for that;
it'll be warmer.'

"The Kid objected, but the landlord bluffed him--didn't have any other
room--and he added: 'If I was your pardner there, I'd kick ye down to
the foot, such a cold strip of bacon as ye must be.'

"About nine o'clock the Kid slipped out, and not coming in for an hour,
I went to look for him. As I went toward the engine, I met the watchman:

"'Phy don't that fireman o' yourn sleep in the house or on the caboose
floor such a night as this? He'll freeze up there in that cab wid no
blankets at all; but when I tould him that, he politely informed meself
that he'd knowed men to git rich mindin' their own biz. He's a sassy
slip of a Yankee.'

"I climbed up on the big consolidation, and, lighting my torch, looked
over the boiler-head at the Kid. He was lying on a board on the seat,
with his overcoat for a covering and an arm-rest for a pillow.

"'What's the matter with you, Kid?' I asked. 'What are you doing
freezing here when we can both be comfortable and warm in the house? Are
you ashamed or afraid to sleep with me? I don't like this for a cent.'

"'Hope you won't be mad with me, Jim, but I won't sleep with any one;
there now!'

"'You're either a fool or crazy,' said I. 'Why, you will half freeze
here. I want some explanation of such a trick as this.'

"The Kid sat up, looked at me soberly for a few seconds, reached up and
unhooked his door, and said:

"'Come over and sit down, Jim, and I'll tell you something.'

"I blew out the torch and went over, half mad. As I hooked the door to
keep out the sharp wind I thought I heard a sob, and I took the Kid's
head in my hands and turned his face to the moonlight. There were big
tears in the corner of each tightly closed eye.

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