Golden Days for Boys and Girls, Vol. XII, Jan. 3, 1891 | Page 5

the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington,
D.C.)
VOL. XII.
JAMES ELVERSON, Publisher. N.W. corner Ninth and Spruce Sts.
PHILADELPHIA, JANUARY 3, 1891.
TERMS $3.00 Per Annum, In Advance.
No. 6.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
RAILROAD ROCK, THE TRAIN BOY OF THE PEN YAN
Or, Doing His Level Best.

by VICTOR ST. CLAIR,
Author of "Bayard the Bicyclist," "From the Forge to the Forum,"
"Roughing It on Range and Ranch," etc.
CHAPTER I.
"Discharged from your last situation, young man? For what reason?"
And the busy superintendent of the Pen Yan Road, one of the largest
railway systems in the country, turned from his maps and statistics to
glance suspiciously at the slight figure, before him.
Clear and prompt came the answer:
"For doing my duty, sir."
"Humph!" replied the official, shrugging his shoulders and eying the
youthful speaker more closely. "Men--nor boys, for that matter--never
lose situations from attention to business. You will have to find another
excuse."
"I have no other, sir."
By this time the notice of the subordinate officials and clerks, of whom
there were twenty or more in the company's spacious rooms, was fixed
upon him who stood at the iron railing encircling the chief's desk.
He was not over sixteen years of age, of medium size, poorly clad, and
evidently used to hard work. But his features, though browned with a
deep coat of tan and bountifully sprinkled with freckles, made up an
honest, manly-looking countenance, while the blue eyes met the
railroad superintendent's sterner gaze with an unflinching light.
Everything had seemed to work that day at cross-purposes with
Superintendent Lyons, and he was in no humor to parley with the poor
boy, who had thrust himself into his presence with more boldness than
discretion.

But the very attitude of the youthful applicant, as he stood there with
uncovered head, respectfully waiting for his answer, showed he was not
to be put off with the ordinary excuse.
General Lyons was so favorably impressed with his appearance of quiet
determination that he was fain to ask:
"You say you have come from Woodsville, a hundred miles, for a
situation on the road?"
"Yes, sir."
"And that you have recently been discharged from our employ? I must
say, your audacity is only equaled by your frankness."
"But, sir, it was no fault of mine. I was trying to do my duty."
"Give me the particulars in as few words as possible."
"Thank you, sir. I have worked on Section 66 nearly two years--"
"Let me see," interrupted the superintendent, "that extends from Trestle
Summit to Wood's Hollow."
"Yes, sir."
"The most troublesome section on the entire line of the road. But go on
with your story."
"It's a bad section, sir, and it usually takes five regular hands to keep it
in repair. But for two weeks a couple of the men have been off on
account of illness, while our foreman, Mr. Gammon, has not been on
duty half of the time. This left one man, with myself, to look after the
road. That, with the rains we have been having, has given us more than
we could do as it ought to be done. But Mr. Gammon refused to put on
any more help, so Mr. Baxter and I have done the best we could.
"Day before yesterday it was after dark when we had finished a repair
which had taken us all the afternoon, at Trestle Summit, the extreme

upper end of our section.
"The northern mail train was then due, and we were waiting for that to
pass, so we could have a clear track to go home, when a man, coming
from the direction of Woodsville, told us the bridge, two miles beyond
the station, had been washed away. The stranger didn't look like an
honest man; and we knew, if he had been, he would told them at the
station. But the bridge had been threatened for several days, and, as we
had not seen it for thirty-six hours, we knew there was more than an
even chance that the tramp was right.
"Mr. Gammon had promised to look to it that day; but he so seldom did
as he would talk that we did not believe he had been near it. If it was so,
every life on the train was in peril, and, as I have said, it was then time
for it to come along.
"So Mr. Baxter and I decided to signal the train, and tell them of the
situation. But it was raining hard then, the wind was blowing furiously,
and our matches were damp, so we worked in vain to make a torch. It
was too dark for our flag to be seen. We