The Road Builders

igger, and a mule to build

he office tent for the first division, where Old Van would hold forth, and the living and

e work, the nigger will drive the mul

steam and the dust. Men on horseback-picturesque figures in wide-brimmed hats and blue shirts and snug-fitting boots laced to the knee-were riding in and out among the teams. The old track ended in the immediate foreground, and here old Van was at work with his young surveyors, looking up the old stakes and driving new ones to a line set by a solemn youngster with skinny hands and a long nose. Everywhere was noise-a babel of it-and toil and a hearty sort of chaos. One l

ng over an open fire. The chaos about the trains was straightening out, and the men were corralling the wagons, and unharnessing the mules and horses. The sun slipped down behind the low western hills, leaving a luminous memory in the far sky. In

ith a scrawny red mustache and high-pitched voice, soon rode in over the grade from the farther side of the right of way, where he was packing up his outfit for the long haul to the La Paz River. The instrument men and their assistants followed, one by one, and fell in line at the tin wash-basin, all exubera

tter part of a week, across the desert, through the gray hills, and down to the yellow La Paz. The youngsters were shy at first; but after Tiffany had winked and said, "It'll never do to start this dry, boys," and had produced a bottle from some mysteri

d Great Windy that used to run from Pittsburg up to the New York State line. I was acting as a sort of traffic superintendent, among other things,-we had to do all sorts of work then; n

e of mind where he wouldn't ever have contradicted you if you'd said he was the Almighty and Great Windy. First thing he did was to put in a system of bells to call us to his office,-but I didn't care such a heap. He enjoyed it so. He'd le

ur hundred and fifty thousand. Just about such a line as our Paradise spur, onl

ugh a two-foot wall into Herb Williams's pickle factory. Pretty soon he swung his one good eye around on me and looked at me sha

er MacBayne. He ain't anybody to-day, but if I went back to Pittsburg to-morrow and met him in Morrison's place, he'd say

ying that the sheriff of Erie County,' over the line in New York State, 'has attached

you understand-just like it would be to the S. & W. Imagine what would happen to you fellows out here if Peet had that many c

ow about tha

hink it would be a good plan

sort o' grinned. 'What're you

find that out,' I told him,

'No,' he said, when I went in his office, 'they ain'

xpress for Buffalo, a long string of oil and coal cars with a baggage car, coach, and

,' said he. 'Wil

,' I t

oo. He was superintendent of the State Line Div

e, the old man turned his good eye on me and said, 'Well, Hen, what next

get a horse and buggy and look around the city? They say it's a pretty place. Or you could pick up a boa

es of me with those two eyes of his.

ter MacBayne, I forgot to bring any money. Let me

wouldn't be the least use to me. I'd 'a' done better to have left him behind. 'Why, yes, Hen,' said he, 'I c

en,' said I. 'I'll see you at

enty-two of our coal cars. Jim Harvey was standing near by, and h

'em together. Here you've got twenty-two of 'em, and there's forty over at the Lake Shore, and a lot more in Chaplin's yards? There ain't but one o

ll finish it up to-morrow morning.' 'Well, now, Jim,' said I, 'I want you to put on a couple of extra wagons and get these cars emptied by five o'clock this afternoon.

rt the sheriff. What I want is to get my cars tog

ther men to see. The despatcher for the Buffalo and Southwestern was one of 'em. Then at five o'clock, or a little before, I floated into the Swift House office and there were Mac

trongest engines, and I want 'em up in Chap

the old man. 'Now, Mister MacBayne,' said I, 'I want you to tell Charlie here that

, Hen,' said Charlie,

MacBayne say it. Remember, when those engines leave your di

n ever. 'See here, Hen,' said he, 'w

nt two engines. You can't run a railr

en, 'how about me-wh

ight?' You should have seen his good eye light up at that. Getting out of the state suited him about

ven's sake, tell me

t see what business it is of yours.

said he. 'I'm going wh

I; 'I'm going to Sh

ore. You remember old Shelby's show there. I alwa

ver, Charlie began to get nervous aga

o stroll out to Chaplin's yard before I turn in, an

' he broke out. 'I

I, 'come along. I

-and on the two next tracks beside them were Charlie's two engines, steam up and headlights lighted. And, say, you never saw anything quite like it! The boys they'd sent with the engines weren't anybody's fools, and they h

took frightened all of a sudden-his knees were going like

t's get out of here quick. T

I. 'I didn't invit

top. It was going to be ticklish business, I knew that. We had to haul out over a drawbridge, for one thing, to get out of the yards

ou're going to do it, what in --

Lake Shore Express t

the oil explosion down by Titusville, but Charlie, somehow, wasn't interested. All the while t

to the engineer of the first engine.

en,' he said,

'I guess I don't need

down the yard, whistling for the switch. The four brakemen ran back along the fifty-car string. You see they had to couple up at those four crossings and that w

clickety-clickety behind him, and then I could see his rear lights and hear him whistling for the switch over to the southwestern tracks. Then I gave the signal for the other engine. Charlie, all this time, was getting worse and worse. He was leaning up against me now, just naturally hanging on to me, looking like a somnambulist. You could hear his kn

as they could run. Of course there was only one thing to do, and that's just the thing that Charlie Greenman didn't do. He turned and ran in the general direction of the Swift House as fast as those long legs of his could carry him. Two of the offic

me,' I yelled; 'do

e along, th

said I. 'I've noth

an,' he yelle

im. 'Do you call th

he, 'the oth

caught Charlie. And I was a bit nervous, for I didn't know what he migh

ppose you tell us w

ou,' said o

u don't,

we do,'

ome bluffing, so I hit right out. '

ver here,

ght now. We'll see if two railroad men can't walk t

train a-whooping it up for the state line-clickety-clicket

e. When he saw us come in, he climbed up behind his desk so he

said the officer

red, looking down with a

I, to the captain,

right,' said he,

pread out annual passes on the Great Windy, the Erie, the South-eastern, and the Lake Shore. My name was written on all of them, H. L. Tiffany, Pittsburg. The minute the captain saw them he looked queer, and I turned to Charlie and told h

his is pretty stupid business. I'm very sorry we've put you to this trouble, and I can tel

I wanted just then except to get out of Buffal

g me, Captain,' said I,

in, then he said, solemn, 'We

harlie, and Charlie, who was beg

ing it nights to cut up people in, and when the boys saw two well-dressed young fellows hanging around there in the middle of the night, t

bit. Then I got three boxes of cigars, Havana imported. I gave one to each of the officers, and on the bottom of the third I wrote, in pencil, 'To the Captain, with the compliments of H. L. Tiffany, of the A. & G.

very quiet, 'what are

to take the morning three o'clock on the Michigan Central f

e. All had been, for half an hour, in the remote state of New York with this genial railroading pirate of the old school. Now, outside, a horse whinnied. T

nd followed his example. But the long-nosed instrument man, the fire of a pirate soul sh

en his eye lighted up again. "But I like to think," he added, "that next morning when that captain read about the theft of ninety gondo

ng back to work. The wagons were backing in alongside the cars. And halfway down the knoll stood Carhart a

Paul," said th

," said

ter Red Hills before October. They both felt it, standing there at t

ight, sir." He turned toward the waiting wagon trai

sly military stamp, and nondescripts-but good-natured enough; and Flint, believing with Carhart in the value of good cooks, meant to keep them good-natured. One by one the whips cracked; a confusion of English

most unreasoningly at the cook. Down on the job, the humblest stake man stood motionless until Old Van, who showed no signs of feeling anything, asked him if he hadn't had about enough of a sy-esta. As for Carhart, he was stirred, but his fancy did not roam far afield. From now on those things which would have it in

his head in th

d the chief

Carhart? The boys want you

ck his chair, and strode out a

here, boys!"

g it easily over his shoulder, a

he spirit of the thing, "there, bo

ument man. Then Carhart, still smiling, walk

stirring up these skylarking notions-on his division, anyway. It took just that