Argosy All-Story Weekly, June 27, 1925 — page 12: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

S06 cad. the drooping whistle-cord in its sway- ing are over the head of the engineer, there were shining brass gadgets and a rattling thing that stood upright with a grip on its end, the ‘ Johnson bar,” some day, after a long time, perhaps, there were all these things for him. Dreamily he closed his eyes, and the hot, greasy smell of the engine stung his nostrils, the cla-clump, cla-clump of the rods mingled with the roar of the exhaust in his ears, his hands resting on the win- dow sill beside him telegraphed the jolts and vibrations of the movement of the en- gine over the road bed. The power and life of the locomotive throbbed through his brain and Zeb knew before he opened his eyes a minute later, that he would never be satisfied unless he, too, was a part of the railroad. He looked through the narrow pane of glass in the cab front ahead to where the tracks wound around the hill. “ Dead Man's Curve,” a bad piece of track. There had been more than one wreck on it. The engine, with many a despairing squeal from complaining flanges, rounded the curve. Big Hungry Dip lay right beyond, a straight, steep run down (o where the low trestle spanned Big Hungry Creek then up the sharp grade on the other side to the station. The engineer opened his throttle wide, dropped his reverse lever down a couple of notches and the 128 barked a louder note and gathered speed for the run down the short hill to gain the momentum necessary to carry her over the other side. Zeb sat thrilled by the noise of the ma- chinery and the blur of the woods that flashed by like a magic carpet of browns and greens close beside him, Running fast, the engine whipped the train behind it around the curve and down the hill. The fireman clanged the fire door open and shut; the sbovel rattled against the coal in the tender, swung ‘in a swift swoop and the coal slid into the firebox—legerdemain to Zeb’s eyes. The fireman stood, legs outstretched, one on the deck of the cab, one on the steel apron that covered the break between en- gine and tender on a jolting platform that moved sideways, up and down and back ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY. and forth as it followed the movements of the swaying, jerking locomotive. The hol- low, muffled sound of the trestle rumbled up from the wheels below, the bottom of the Dip was beneath. The engine seemed to Zeb to gather herself for the effort to climb the incline in front. _A jerk as the 128 took up the slack in the drawbars behind was followed by a sudden crash like lightning striking a near- by tree and Zeb turned quickly. To his amazed eyes, there was a gap between the engine and tender, a gap that widened, showing the rails beneath, the cross ties below them and the rock ballast of the road bed. Two heavy chains red with rust stretched out, then with grinding, grating pops, parted. The steel apron tilted down- ward, the air hose disconnected with a wosh, raising a cloud of dust. The fireman grabbed for the cab corner, yelled an ear splitting, frantic shriek and toppled back- ward toward the gap that was fast closing again as the brakes took hold and the slid- ing drivers of the engine checked its speed while the weight and momentum of the train behind on the hill forced the tender forward. Paralyzed for a fraction of a second, Zeb sat petrified, so sudden and unexpected had the break occurred. Then even as the fireman’s body tumbled down into the clos- ing space between the chafing irons that in another second would close together, close-. fitting like the jaws of a vise with a thou- sand tons pressure, Zeb moved. A quick step and he jumped on to the apron, one arm around the corner post of the cab. His right hand swooped down, closed over the fireman’s jumper collar, his body curved and as he had often slung a sack of meal over his shoulder, one handed, he heaved the fireman clear. There was a metallic clang when the tender struck chafing iron to iron, the rat- tle and patter of tumbling coal. A thick cloud of dust flew up and settled. Zeb looked back over the train. An involun- tary cry arose from his throat. The Local was wrecking herself. Car after car would hesitate, buckle in the center, jump and crash over the car ahead. Like sheep jump- ing a fence, the box cars stopped almost CONMUC NOO SS Co