Danger Signals | Page 2

that run."

"Why, he says he knowed you out West fifteen years ago."
"So! What kind o' looking chap is he?"
"Youngish face, John; but hair and whiskers as white as snow.
Sorry-looking rooster--seems like he's lost all his friends on earth, and
wa'n't jest sure where to find 'em in the next world."
"I can't imagine who it would be. Let's see--'Lige Clark, he's dead; Dick
Bellinger, Hank Baldwin, Jim Karr, Dave Keller, Bill Parr--can't be
none of them. What's his name?"
"Winthrop--no, Wetherson--no, lemme see--why, no--no, Wainright;
that's it, Wainright; J. E. Wainright."
"Jim Wainright!" says I, "Jim Wainright! I haven't heard a word of him
for years--thought he was dead; but he's a young fellow compared to
me."
"Well, he don't look it," said Jack.
After supper I went up to the hotel and asked for J. E. Wainright.
Maybe you think Jim and I didn't go over the history of the "front."
"Out at the front" is the pioneer's ideal of railroad life. To a man who
has put in a few years there the memory of it is like the memory of
marches, skirmishes, and battles in the mind of the veteran soldier. I
guess we started at the lowest numbered engine on the road, and
gossiped about each and every crew. We had finished the list of
engineers and had fairly started on the firemen when a thought struck
me, and I said:
"Oh, I forgot him, Jim--the 'Kid,' your cheery little cricket of a firesy,
who thought Jim Wainright the only man on the road that could run an
engine right. I remember he wouldn't take a job running switcher--said
a man that didn't know that firing for Jim Wainright was a better job
than running was crazy. What's become of him? Running, I suppose?"

Jim Wainright put his hand up to his eyes for a minute, and his voice
was a little husky as he said:
"No, John, the Kid went away--"
"Went away?"
"Yes, across the Great Divide--dead."
"That's tough," said I, for I saw Jim felt bad. "The Kid and you were
like two brothers."
"John, I loved the--"
Then Jim broke down. He got his hat and coat, and said:
"John, let's get out into the air--I feel all choked up here; and I'll tell
you a strange, true story--the Kid's story."
As we got out of the crowd and into Boston Common, Jim told his
story, and here it is, just as I remember it--and I'm not bad at
remembering.
"I'll commence at the beginning, John, so that you will understand. It's
a strange story, but when I get through you'll recall enough yourself to
prove its truth.
"Before I went beyond the Mississippi and under the shadows of the
Rocky Mountains, I fired, and was promoted, on a prairie road in the
Great Basin well known in the railway world. I was much like the rest
of the boys until I commenced to try to get up a substitute for the link
motion. I read an article in a scientific paper from the pen of a jackass
who showed a Corliss engine card, and then blackguarded the railroad
mechanics of America for being satisfied with the link because it was
handy. I started in to design a motion to make a card, but--well, you
know how good-for-nothing those things are to pull loads with.
"After my first attempt, I put in many nights making a wooden model
for the Patent Office. I was subsequently informed that the child of my

brain interfered with about ten other motions. Then I commenced to
think--which I ought to have done before. I went to studying what had
been done, and soon came to the conclusion that I just knew a
little--about enough to get along running. I gave up hope of being an
inventor and a benefactor of mankind, but study had awakened in me
the desire for improvement; and after considerable thought I came to
the conclusion that the best thing I could do was to try to be the best
runner on the road, just as a starter. In reality, in my inmost soul, my
highest ideal was the master mechanic's position.
"I was about twenty-five years old, and had been running between two
or three years, with pretty good success, when one day the general
master mechanic sent for me. In the office I was introduced to a
gentleman, and the G. M. M. said to him in my presence:
"'This is the engineer I spoke to you of. We have none better. I think he
would suit you exactly, and, when you are through with him, send him
back; we are only lending him, mind,' and he went out into the shop.
"The meaning of it all was that