Jeff pushed open the door of the dispatcher’s office, to be greeted with a rattling fusillade from a score of clicking telegraph instruments that were spattering the air full of, to Jeff, unintelligible dots and dashes. It was warm and cheerful in there and he made for a bulky steam radiator that was hissing comfortably, as he pulled off his gloves and breathed on the tips of his fingers.
Tom Kelly, the big, good-natured chief dispatcher, in shirt sleeves and vest, got up from his desk and came over to greet him.
“Hello, Jeff. Ain’t seen you in a week. What gust of wind blew you over in this direction?” said Kelly.
“Came over to see Tim Crowley. Where is he and what is there to the story about his—”
“Oh, that three-legged calf. Funny blamed thing, isn’t it? But it’s facts. Some of the fellows saw it. Tim’s the wrecking boss. You’ll find him on the wrecking train over on track sixteen. It’s warm and cheerful over there and the whole wrecking crew are probably playing cards in the ‘hack.’ If you get over you might be just in time to have a midnight snack with them. They eat about this time,” said Kelly, looking at his watch.
“Thanks. So long. See you again some time,” said Jeff, buttoning up his coat once more and going out into the night.
CHAPTER VI
WITH THE WRECKERS
Jeff knew where track sixteen was and it did not take him long to find the wrecking train. There it was on a siding with a clear way to the main track. It was a train of caboose and six flat cars, two of which were equipped with tremendously powerful, but squatty and flat-looking derricks. The others were loaded with boxes of tools, and all sorts of emergency equipment. The train reminded Jeff of an engine or hook and ladder truck of the city fire department ready to get away at a moment’s notice.
A warm glow of light came from the cupola and the more or less smudged windows of the “hack,” as Kelly had called the caboose, and Jeff knew that the wrecking crew, who lived in the train, in shifts day and night, week in and week out the whole year through, were inside card playing or reading or amusing themselves as husky railroad men do while awaiting word of trouble or a wreck that calls them out to clear the line.