Beadle's Half Dime Library No. 428 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

ad] foul! Cy’ thiek wreaths of snow till she seemed like a white monster, and half buried in the deep drifts into which she had plunged, she seemed utterly lost and vanquished. The steam hissed spitefully from the open safety-valve. In the cab stood the engineer, a grimy, stout-limbed man, with stern, resolute face, eying the drift with ’a look of fierce deter- inination, The engine had backed cut with some diffi- She now ran a huncred yards back, and came plunging forward again, with all steam on. Once more she plunged into the cut. The heap- ed-up snow flew in blinding swirls through the air. Into its mass bored the heavy iron mon- ster, like a ball from some huge gun. Some fif- teen feet deeper than before; and then she came to a second halt, this time almost buried in the drift. ‘‘ It’s all up,” remarked tne reporter to his companion. ** Every plunge only packs the snow harder. That train i; laid up for the night,” “What's to be done, then?” ,' There’s a village off here to the left. You ‘can see its lights. “We can hire a sleigh there, and get in yet in time for the pith of the speech,” ‘* A good thought. counts now.” They waded off across the snow-clad field to- ward the village. Fred had overheard this con- versation, and for a moment felt inclined to fol- low them. He looked at the face of the engineer. There was no flinch in those steel-blue eyes, I*red con- cluded to wait. ‘*'What’s the show?” he asked. to hack down, are you?” ‘* Not much,” answered the engineer, grimly. ‘‘ (ot business on the other side. Vm going through if the machine holds together. Stand back, everybody!” The baffled engine slowly drew herself out of | the snowy mass. This time she ran back for a quarter of a mile, uncoupling from the train. Winy of the passengers had landed, and were standing on each side of the rails, as she again came up, With screaming whistle, and short, angry puffs from her smoke-stack, She was moving with immense speed. Once more she struck the hardened snow-bank, with a whip-like crack. Onward she went, pushing it before her, plunging deeper and deeper, send- ing the snow flying in blinding clouds, Every instant her — “1 decreased, Soon she came to a dead stop, ten feet in advance of her former resting-place. ‘* No use,” declared the conductor, Come on. Every minute ‘Ain’t going | k king on with an exper ienced eye. ‘* Give it up, Bill. ox Ou can’t make it.” “Can't? Don’t know any such word, Take that spade, Joe. We must dig down that packed wall, and the next break will take us to day- light. e The energetic fellow jumped down, spade in hand, followed by the fireman. The snow in front of the engine was packed to almost the hardness of ice. Yet the strong arms of the two vigorous men sent it flying. The brakemen rushed to their aid with other shovels. In ten minutes the dense wall was broken down. Only the soft snow lay before them. ‘*Clear the way now,” cried the engineer, cheerily. ““I am going through this time. Twenty feet more will do it. Up, Joe, There’ S not a bolt started, She’s good for the job.’ Off backed the engine again. And u she came, like a shot from acatapult. The soft snow in front yielded. But it quickly packed. The speed rapidly decreased. The engine came nearly to a halt. Buta wild cry of triumph came to the ears of the shivering passengers. ‘* Hurrah!” yelled the resolute engineer. ‘‘That jump did the work. Away we go. Bill Sprat don’t stop for trifles. Hold your level, gentle- men till I bring up the train. Within five minutes more the train stood in the cut, and the shivering passengers were crowding back into their ‘warm seats in the cars, ** All aboard here,” car, “Go ahe2d,” commanded the conductor, in short, quick accents. Ascr eaming whistle from in front, and away they went thro ugh the snowed-up cut that had threatened to end their journey for the night. Within ten minutes more the train rolled into the station at Lancaster, the engine looking like a huge snow-ball, and’ engineer and fireman svhite to their eyebr ows and whiskers. It was nearly half past eight, ) again came the cry from car to Fred jumped briskly to the ground, asked a | Fred od Flyer, —— ee ee eee question or two from the bystanders, and | plunged sharply away through the falling ‘snow. Within a few minutes he had gained the en- trance to the hall where the lecture was being delivered. As he paused there for an instant the sound of approaching sleigh-bells came to his ears. Some distance down the street ap- peared a two-horse team furiously driven. ‘‘]t’s our reporters, for a wager,” laughed Fred, as ‘the hurried into the hall. “Nip and tuck, "but I beat them that time, and Ill beat them, again. The Star’s bound to come out, OSs —_—---_-_- CHAPTER XI. GETTING DOWN THE GREAT ORATION, It was a wide, large hall, well filled with a deeply interested audienc e, into which Fred en- tered. The broad, solid and heavy countenances of many of the hearers were those of the Penn- sylvania Germans, of whose settlements Lan- caster is one of the centers. But it was solid good sense that showed in their faces. They were not the men to be taken in by flowery language. They wanted hard facts, and all fine “elocution was likely to be Ww asted, On the platform was a group of pone al worthies, as one could see ataglance, The gen- uine politician is not easily mistaken. He car- ries his signature upon his face, The orator of the evening was Sready. deep in the merits of his subject. Fred listened for a moment, and then nodded his head approvingly. ‘** All right so far,” he said to himself, ‘‘ Only the skirmish line out, Hasn't brought up the heavy guns yet. Plenty of time to take in the merits of the argument.” He looked around for a suitable seat. It was too late now to hunt the reporter’s table, and he must take his chances, At this moment the two other reporters came in, flushed and hur- ried, their faces full of anxiety, and their noses red with the pinch of the cold air. Fred laughed slyly as he found a desirable seat, laid his open note-book on the crown of his hat, "and took a well- -sharpened pencil from his poe ket. At the reporters’ table near the front of the hall several of the fraternity were seated, ac- tiv C ly taking down the oration. “Out in force,” Fred muttered. ‘Come in an early train, I judge. Bet they don’t beat me on the home-track. Ah! there he goes in for the heavy bits.” His perell was immediately busy, taking down the words that fell from the lips of the speaker, Fred was an expert short-hand writer, and his work was a series of dots, dashes and com- pie ated lines, that meant nothing to a soul but 1imself, but which he could read off like print. “ What kind o’ queer writin’ do ye call that?” whispered a curious neighbor. ‘‘ Looks like the switch of a cat’s tail that’s been dipped in an ink-hottle.” @ Phonography, ” answered Fred, shortly. Funnygraphy! Waal, I swow to gracious! Never’d have thought it. ‘Ain’t seen nothin’ so funny in my born days.” “Dry up,” growled F red, ** One’s enough to talk at a time.” The curious countryman subsided, though he could not keep his eyes off of Fred’s’ pencil. Of what it all meant hs had pot the remotest idea. It looked to his rural soul like some magic form- ula. He looked sly ly down to Fred’s feet to see if there were any signs of hoofs. It seemed to his simple fancy that there must be something diabolic al in suc ‘ha sty le of handw riting. On went the speaker, working himself up into a hot excitement, gesticulating wildly, and lay- ing down his idea of the political programme in the plainest language. He was not talking to the stolid citizens of Lancaster. They were only a foil to his true audience. He was talking to the State of Penn- sylvania. His words were meant for those keen- faced men with pencils, who were catch. ing his language as it fell from his lips, as the photog: aph plate catches the lines of the sitter’s face. He knew well that his words would be sown broadcast throughout the State during the next day in the pages of thousands of news- sourly. papers, and now was the chance to make his 4 mark. In these daysa false move in the game of politics, as in the game of chess, cannot be taken back. A speaker” s words are spread too far abroad to be recalled. ‘*And now, my fellow-citizens of this time- honored city, * went on the speaker— worthy sons of brave old Lancaster, [ must bring this ' ca >” eee ee the Reporter Detective. 9 long address to a close. I may have wearied you with my prolix arguments and far-fetched deductions, but—” “Taffy,” said Fred to himself, as he closed his note-book with asnep. ‘‘ He’s had his talk out, and now he’s going to tickle their brains a bit. Don’t want none of that. I’ve got down the meat, and guess I won’t wait for the mus- tard. Spry’s the word now—touch and go.” Leaving his seat, he slid quietly out of the hall. Not so quietly, however, but that his movement was observed by some of the other reporters. His keen and fresh young face was known to the most of them. The two who had last entered whispered to one another: ‘‘There goes that young hornet of the Star. The Spry little hound will discount us if we aren’t lively as crickets. Our sleigh’s at the door yet.” ‘* Then let’s make for it. The speech is on its last legs. Slide’s the word.” In a moment they had left the hall, and were rushing to the point at which they had left their. aloh. To their surprise it had disappear- ed. They looked anxiously around, There, a hun- dred paces down the street, was their lost te am, going at an easy canter in the opposite direr tion to the station. “It’s that young imp’s work,” cried one of the baffled repesters. ‘ After the dashed team! We can catch it yet.” Away they flew along the snowy pavement. It was indeed Fred’s work. He had loosened the horses, and started them at a trot down the street, while he ran at full speed in the opposite direction. In a few minutes he dashed breathlessly into the station, and made his way hastily to the telegraph « flice, “Where's the operator?” he cried. ‘* Quick} I’ve got some lively work in hand.” The operator, who had been half-asleep, came yawning and rubbing his eyes to the window, ‘Want me?” he asked, drowsily. “Bet I do.” cried Fred. ‘*Spry’s the word, Dispatch for the Morning Star. The Cameron speech. Must be put Feehan at break-neck speed. I preempt these wires till the job’s oe, ‘‘Can’t be did,” arswered the drowsy opera- tor. ‘Sorry for you ycung man, but it ain’t in the wood.” “What's the reason it isn’t?” cried Fred, sharp and angrily. ‘‘See here, hoss, maybe you don’t know wholIam. Eest dip your head in a water-bucket, and wake yourself up. Come, stir up. I claim the wires ahead of any other reporter,” ‘‘Nary time,” anSwered the operator. e Could’ t send a word if I got a dollar a let- ter.” ‘* What’s the reason you couldn’t?’ asked Fred, fler¢ely. “ Because we haven't a wire left,” answered the stolid cperator. ‘Every one of them’s down. Sleet and freeze is the Old Nick on the telegraph. Every wire is broken, and we couldn’t get a word through for an emperor. . Two men stood behind Fred listening to this conversation. They were his rival reporters, who had dashed up to the station in their sleigh a nitint 6 before. They now slyly drew back, leaving Fred to finish his confab with the easy- going C perator, > No use talking,” continued the latter. ‘If you’ve anything to go through, you'll have to take it. No chance to wire.” The young reporter rubbed his brow in a vexed manner. “When can I get through?’ he asked, ‘What's the next train time?” ‘‘Two o’clock in the morning. Get you inthe city by four or five.” “Or seven, maybe, with these roads,” an- swered Fred, disconte ntedly. **Can’t be helped, young man, If yow’re in such a hurry, you’d best charter a train, You can find an extra locomotive and a passenger car out here.’ ‘By Jove, I will!” cried Fred, briskly, as he turned on his heel. ‘It’s a good suggestion. This report must get in the morning edition if it costs a gold mine,’ As he moved away several other men hurried into the station, and bustled excitedly up to the telegraph office. T hey were the remaining re- porters who had waited for the finish ef the oration. Fred laughed slyly as he noticed their excited haste. ‘* Sold!” was his single comment. He hurried away in search of the station- master. But that personage was not easily te ~— ewe ee ee oe ee