Newspapers / The News-Journal (Raeford, N.C.) / Oct. 20, 1921, edition 1 / Page 4
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:4'- ^ r^'- ^. 14 /* t'/mm In Ihe cor-1 * o^ offlen, iSM|B||i'~^lr 'in l&e cat' ner by tile cumsipd table fell over backwards wl^Ta^ctBSh and Dargio canie staggering across the room. Hv was staring stnigjt^ abend of him as If he bad gone blind, and the sweat .was ruling down bis face to lose it self In 'the straggHng beard, ' ixl^en he spoke his voice'"seeme^ to come from away off somewhere, and be was still i^ing at"the blank wall beyond tbe/iouQter-ralling. "Did I-^id ^f bbar somebody say you’re sendlngiy'^jithe undertakers?" he choked, wltU 'W^dry rattle In hla throat; and then, without waiting for COPYRICiHT . BY CHAR-LES 3CVlDNER.’«5 ,5 O N ^ CHAPTER XII The Helpless Wires When Bobby Kelso shot his news at OB we all made a anick break for the dispatcher’s office,' the boss in the lead. Durgln, the night dispatcher, had been alone (m the train desk, and tile only other operators on duty were the car-record man and the young fel low who acted as a relief on the com mercial wire. When we got there, .we found that Tarbell had happened to be in the office when Durgln blew op. He was sitting in at the train key, trying to get Crow Gulch, the one ihtermedlate wire station between the two trains that had failed to get their “meet" orders, and this was the first I knew that be really was the expert telegraph operator that his pay-roll description said be was. Dnrgln looked like a tortured ghost He was a thin, dark man with a sort of scattering beard and limp black hair; one of the clearest-headed dis patchers in the bunch, and the very last man, you’d My, to get rattled In a tangle-up. Yet here he was, hunched In a chair at the qar-record table In the coroM, a ^ptarlng-eyed, pallld- taced wreck, wlm the sweat standing In big drops on his forehead and his han^ diaking as if he bad the palsy. Morris, the relief man, gave us the particnlara, sndi as they were, speak ing' in a hushed voice as if he was afraid of breaking in on Tarbell’s steady rattling of the ^y in the Crow Gulch station call “Number Fotir"—^Four was the east- bound “FlyM”—“Is five hours off her time,” he eiplalned. "As near as I can get it, Dnrgln was going to make her ’meet' with Number Five at the blind siding at Sand Ckeek tank. She ought to have bad her orders some where west of Bauxite Junction, and rive ought to have got hers at Bantu. Durgln says he simply forgot that the ’Flyer' running late: that she was still out and had a ’meet’ to make somewhere with five.” Brief as Morris’ mqplanation was, it was dear enough for anybody who knew the road and. Ae schedules. The regular meetbM'Polnt for the two pas- aenger trains was at a point well east of Portal City, Instead of west, and so, of course, would not concern the D^rt Division crew of either train, since all crews were changed at Portal Oity. From Bantu to Bauxite Junc tion, some thirty-odd miles, there was only one telegraph station, namely, that at the Crow Gulch lumber ■camp, seven miles beyond the Timber Moun tain “Y” and the gravel pit where the, stolen 1016 had been abandoned. Unluckily, Grow Gulch was only a day station, the day wires being han dled by a young man who was half In the pay of tile railroad and half in that of the MW-mill company. This young man slept at the mill camp. which was a mile back in the- gulch. There was only one chance in a thou sand that be would be down at the railroad station at ten o’clock at night, and it was on that thousandth chance that Tarbell was rattling the Crow Guldi call. If Five were mak ing her card time, she was now about half-way between Timber Mountain T” and Crow Gnkb. And Four, the Tlyer," bad Just left Bauxite—with DO ordMs whatever. Which meant that the two trains would come together somewhere near Sand (hreek. Mr. Van Britt was as good a wire man as anybody on the line, but It was tiie boss who took things in hand. "Thaw Is a long-distance telephone bo the Crow Gulch Mw-mill; have you tried that?” he barked at Tarbell. The big young fellow who looked Bke a cow-boy—and had really been one, they onlti—glanced up and nodded: “The calPa In,” he responded: “’Cen- trsT says she can’t raise anybody.” For the next three or four minutes the tension was something fierce. The boM and Mr. Van Britt hung over the train desk, and Tarbell kept up his Insistent datter at the key. 1 had an eye on Dnrgln. He was still bunched np In the record-man’s chair, and to an appearances bad gone stone-blind "I Couldn't Get Rid of the Idea That He Was Listening.” your.OT’D wire Ivhat^ you db. Hurry P By the time Mr. 'Van Britt got back to the train desk, the boss had his pencil out and was figuring on Ber tram’s time margin. It waa now ten- twelve, and Five’s time at Crow Gulch was ten-eighteen. The Crow Gulch operator had just six minutes in which, to get his mule and cover the rough mile down the gulch. There was nothing to do but wait, and tlie waiting was savage. Tarbell had a nerve of iron, but I could see his hand shake as it lay on the glass- topped table. The boss was cool enodgh outwardly, but I knew that In his brain there was a heart-breaking picture of those two fast passenger trains rushing together in the night among the hills with no hint of warn ing to help them save themselves. Mr. Van Britt couldn^t keep stllL He had his hands jammed in the side pockets of his coat and was pacing back and forth In the little space between the train desk and the counter railing. At the different tables in the room the sounders were clicking away as if nothing were happening or due to happen, and above the spattering din and clattei you could hear the escape ment of the big standard-time clock on the wall, hammering out the sec onds that might mean life or death to two or three hundred innocent peo ple. In horrible suspense the six minutes pulled tliemselves out to an eternity -for that little bunch of us in the dis patcher’s ofiice who could do nothing but wait. On the stroke of ten-sigh- teen, the time when Five was due at Crow Gulch on her schedule, Tarbell tuned hli' relay to catch the first faint tappings from the distant day-station. Another sounder was silent. There was hope In the delay, and Morris voiced It. “He’s there, and ke’s too busy to talk to us,” he suggested, in a bushed voice; and Dlsbrow, the car-record man, added: "That’s It; it’d take a minute or two to get them In on the siding.” The second minute passed, and then a third, and yet there was no word from Bertram, “Call him,” snapped the boss to Tarbell, but before the ex cow-boy’s hand could reach tiM key, the sounder began to rattle out a string of dots and dashes; ragged Morse it was, but we could all fMd it only too plainly. “Too late—mule threw me fiBi I lad 'to crawl and drag a gi an-answer: "While you’re at you’d better get one for me . . . there’s the money to pay him,” and he tossed a thick roll of bank bills, wrapped around with a ruBber band, over to Tarbell at the train desk. , Naturally, the little gi and-stand play with the bank roll made a diversion, and that is why the muffled crash of a pistol shot came with a startling shock to everybody. When we turned to look, the mischief was done. Dur gln had* crumpled down Into a mis shapen heap on the floor and the sight we saw was enoygh to make your blood run cold. You see, he had put the muzzle of the pistol Into his mouth, and—but It’s no use: I can’t tell about it, and the very thought of that thing that had just a mlnut^ before been a man, ly ing there on the floor makes me see black and want to keel over. What he had said about sending for an extra undertaker was right as right. With the top of his head blown off, the poor devil didn’t need anything more in this world except the burying. Somebody has said, mighty truth fully, that even a death in the family doesn’t stop the common routine; that the things that have to be done will go grinding on. Just the same, whether all of us live, or some of us die. Dis- brow had Jumped from the telephone at the crash of Durgin’s shot, and for just a second or so we all stood around the dead dispatcher, nohodjc making a" move. V Then Mr. Norcross came allW"Wltfr a jerk, telling Dlsbrow to get back on his job of calling out the wreck wagons aijid the relief train, and directing Bobby Kelso to go to another ’phone and call an undertaker to come and get Durgin’s b(^y. Tarbell turned back to'tlie. train desk to keep, things from getting Into a worse tangle than they already were In, and to wait for the dreadful news, and the boss stood by him. This second wait promised to be the worst of all. The collision was due to happen miles from the nearest wire station; the news, when we should get It, would probably be carried back to Bauxite Junction by the pusher en gine which had gone put to try to overtake the “Flyer." 6ut even In that case it might be an agonizing hour or ,more before we could hear anything. In a little while Disbrpw had qlicked in his call to Kirgan, Hud when the undertaker’s wagon rame to gather np what was left of the dead dispatcher, the car-record man was hurriedly writ ing off his list of doctors, and Mr. Van Britt had gone down to super intend the making np of the relief train. True to his theory, which, among other things, laid down the broad prlhcipie that the public had a right to be given all the facts in a railroad disaster, Mr. Norcross was Just telling me to rail up the Moun taineer office, when Tarbell. calmly Inking time reports upon tbe train sheet, flung down his pen and snatched at his key to *T>reak” the chattering sounder. Mr. Van Britt had come up-staIrs again, and be and the boss were both •standing over Tarbell when the "G-S” break cleared the wire. Instantly there came a quick call, “G-S” “G-S" fol lowed by the signature, “B-J" for Bauxite .Junction. Tarbell answered, and then we all heard wbat Bauxite bad to say; “Pusher overtook Number Four three miles west at Sand Creek and has brought her back here. What orders for her?” Somebody groaned, “Oh, thank God I” and Mr. Van Britt dropped Into a rhair as if he bad been hit by a can non ball. Only the boss kept his head, calling ont sharply to Dlsbrow to break off on the doctors’ list and to hurry and stop Kirgan from getting away with the wrecking train. When It was all over, and Tarbell had been given i^arge of the dis patching while a hurry call was sent out for the night relief man. Donohue, to come down and take the train desk, titer* was a little cq^mlttee meeting Some lienoir—a mata In a airat-cSon^ overcoat "and with a soft hat pnUcid doiro fo that I couldn't see his face— stored Dnrgln on the sidewalk, and they talked together. » ~ "I dldn’t,hear what waa said, bnt I saw the overcoated man pass something to Dnrgin and mw Dnr^ pat whatever It was into his pocket TTien tbe xrtber man dodged and went away, and did It 80 quick that I didn’t see which way he went or what became of him. Eiurgin must have ran after he left the comer, for I didn’t see anything more of him until I got to the office.” “He was there when you came in?” It was Mr Norcross who wanted to know. To BE CONTINUED. -On pubHc hi^hvay 36] ’ LOST- tween foeford and Fayett ' ville near Raeford on Sept 5 ult, a satchel containing , deed ^nd Valnah e bjokfr* anj other valuable - articles r Fiv^. ^ der will be liberaUy:^^ reward^'*' Address Rev. I. P. ‘‘PearsaHj Fayetteville, N. C. its A D . G ore » 'Lawyer Pratt Bldg. Raeford, Sec.-Treas, Hoke Realty, Loan » & Trust Co. * Good Line Silk Hose in wanted colors. Ban corn’s Cash Store, Raeford; N. C. DU. \i.[U. CRO.HARTI^ RAEFORD, - - . H.C Office: Jobnsun-Thomas Boildlng - Office ’Phone 76. Residence ’Phone 2f I There Was an Even Thousand Dollars. didn’t mix or mingle much with the other men. But he was a go6.d dis patcher, and two months ago, when we had an opening here, I sent for I him." i “You think there Is no doubt but that he was bribed to put those trains together tonight?” • “None in the least—only I wish we had a little better proof of it.” I ’’Wliere did he live?" j “He boarded at Mrs. Chandler’s, out I on Cross street. Morris boards there, j too, 1 believe.” The boss turned to me. “Jimmie, go and get Morris.” I carried the call and brought Mor ris back with me. He was a cheerful, red-headed fellow, and everybody liked him.. “It Isn’t a ‘sweat-box’ session. Mor ris," said the boss, quietly, when we came In and the relief operator sat down, sort of half scared, on the edge of a chair, “'We want to know some thing more about Durgln. He roomed at your place, didn’t he?’ Morris admitted it, but said he’d never been very chummy with the dis patcher; that Durgln wasn’t chummy with anybody. Then the boss, went straight to the point, as he usually did. "You were present and saw all that happened In the other room. Can you tell us anything about that money?” pointing tp the pile of bills on my desk. Billy Morris wriggled himself into a little better chair-hold. “Nothing that would be worth telling. If things hadn’t turned out just as they have,” he returned. “But now I guess I know. I left Mrs. Chandler’s this evening about eleven o’clock to come on duty, and Dwgih was Just ahead, of me. Ik' OOSIER shorten your Work Day With a HoosiERin your kitchsn, every waste motion every unnecessary step is eliminated. Hoosier gives you a real working-center for your kitchen. It is much more than just a Kitchen Cabinet, for Hoosier's scientific arrangement places each article where it is easiest to get. Consequently, women who own the Hoosier can get thru with their kitchen work in half the time required in the old-fashioned HoosiER-less kitchen. Come in and let us demonstrate why this is so. We will send a tJoosiER to your home on payment of your first dollar. ■■ Raeford Furniture Co. } . ' -v - V Phone 17 ' . Raeford, N.'® Two Kinds of Stores —Which is Yours? i One kind of store is concern ed with pleasing you with prices; quality is sacrificed to make the I prices more alluring. The other kind of store is con cerned with pleasing you with fine quality. It sells good clothes for as little as possible but it never lowers its quality stand ards. It knows that good mer chandise properly priced is al- cnugr. Tet I eonldn’t get rid of the IdM that be was llatenlng—Uateolng ta If all of hla sealed-np sensea bad tarnod la ta intensify the one of beai^ , Jaat about tbe time when the sna- faoM bad ^own so keen that It ■eemed as l^t couldn’t be home a aaeond longer, Morris, who was slt> ling In at tiw office phone, called out Mmr]^: "Long-distance Mys she has Ckow Oaieh lamba* campT fbons; and. wa got one side of ^ "That yon. Bortxamt All right; this Is Van Britt at Portal City. Take one down th# gulch to the stntlonl Gel Five passed full speed at ten-nine teen— I couldn’t make IL” I saw the boss’ bands shut up as though the finger nails would cut Into the palms. “That ends It” be said, with a sort of swearing groan in his voice; and then to Tarbell: “You may as well call Kirgan and tell him to order out the wrecking train. Then have Per kins make up a relief train while you’re'calling the. doctors. Van Britt 'you go and notify the hospital over your own office wire. Have my private car put into the relief, and see to it that it has all the neceasary aopplles. And you’d better notify the nndertakers, too." Great Joasb I but it was horrible— for us to be bustling around and mak ing arrangements for tbe funeral while the people who were to be- gathered up and buried were atiil awinging along* live and well, half of them la the crooklngs among the Timber Moun tain foot-hills and the other half Bomewhere in tbe desert stretches be low Sand Creek! Tarbell had sent Dlsbrow ta the £aa tiinilii£_away Jojgtja Ui In the general manager’s ofllce, with the hoes In the chair, and Mr. Van Britt sitting in for the other member. “Ot course, you’ve drawn your own conclusions, Upton," the boss began, when be had asked me to shut tbe door. “I guess so,” was the grave re joinder. “I’m afraid It Is only too plain that Durgln was hired to do it What became of the money?" “I have It here,” said the boss, and he took the blood-money bank-roll from his pocket and removed the rub ber band. “Count It, Jimmie,” be or dered, passing It to me.. I ran throngh the bunch. It was ways economy. In twenties and fifties, and there an even thousand dollars. “That is the price of a man’s life," said Mr. Van Britt, soberly, and then Mr. Norcross said, “Who knows any thing about Dnrgln? Was he a mar ried man?” Mr. Van Britt shook his head. "He had Ween married, but be and his wife didn’t live together. He bad no relatives here. Itknew him in the domestic trouble at some kind, .and This is our kind of a store; which is yours? We Sell -s .'A.; i % 'ft Copyright 1921 Hart Schaffner & Marx Hart Sctiaffner & Marx V • ’ Clothes. Also other Grades $15 and up. 55 .-I- Nisbet-Clark Company Hart Schaffner & Marx Clothes.
The News-Journal (Raeford, N.C.)
Standardized title groups preceding, succeeding, and alternate titles together.
Oct. 20, 1921, edition 1
4
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