Even the humblest of them had his heroisms, as the boy found out one night; for, surely, none was humbler than Bill Griffith, the lame crossing-flag-man. It was at the roundhouse one evening that Allan chanced to ask how Bill lost his leg. “Tookey” Morton—the oldest engineer on the road—who had just come in to report, turned around at the question.
“He’s lost both legs, my boy,” he said. “He’s wood on both sides from the knee down, only you can’t see it because his pant-legs hide it. Ten years ago, Bill was one of the best engineers on this road. He had the old Ninety-six,—you remember her, boys,—one of them old passenger-engines, built too light for the business. Well, one night Bill was spinnin’ down the grade at Loveland when the side-rod on his side broke, and in about half a second had whipped the cab to pieces and smashed both Bill’s legs. His fireman, who was green, jumped at the first crash; so what did Bill do but get up on the stumps of his legs and walk to the throttle and shut her off. They found him layin’ on what was left of the deck, and thought he was dead. But he pulled through, and was given that billet at the crossin’. And there ain’t a man, woman, or child has been hurt there since he’s had it.”
The section-men were soon to have their hours of danger, too, for the road was falling among troublesome times. The first wind of it came in an order to all employés issued from general headquarters.
Jack stuck a copy of it on the order-hook on the wall of the section-shanty, and then read it over again with a very dark face. Thus it ran:
“NOTICE TO EMPLOYÉS, ALL DEPARTMENTS
“The police department of this road has just been reorganized, and all employés are hereby directed to aid it in every possible way in keeping all trains, freight and passenger, free from tramps. This nuisance has grown to such proportions that it must be checked. Trainmen discovered permitting tramps to ride on their trains will be summarily discharged. Section-men will see that no fires are built by tramps on the right of way, and that they do not linger on railroad property.
“[Signed] A. G. Round,
“Supt. and Gen. Manager.
“Cincinnati, Ohio, November 14.”
“That means trouble,” said Jack, “if they try t’ carry it out,” and turned away to his work without further comment.