A DESPERATE DRIVE.

Western Star, Issue 1292, 27 February 1897, Page 1 (Supplement)

A DESPERATE DRIVE.

The bell sounded for the last Jime. Driver Mattern kissed his wife, leaped to his engine, and with a shrill whistle the train slowlybegan to move. The village it was leaving consisted of a few straggling houses, .the houses of the railway mon, and the line itself was used prmoipally for the transportation of cattle and goods, for but few travellers passed through this wild region. The distance to Delmane. to which place they' were bound, was a matter of about twenty-five miles, and Mattern arrived there in three hours, in spite of the darknees and disagreeable weather. In the early evening a- strong wind arose and till midnight a perfect hurricane raged. As soon as the train arrived at Delmane the bells gave the signal which told the employees all along the line that they could seek their rest,as there were no night trains running, Mattern rested for a little while and then looked after the work he had;been given to-flo, which occupied him until about eleven o’clock. Leaving the engine-standing with a low fire, as he was to return to the village in six hours, be

gave the fireman permission to go to the engine-house and get a little sleep. resolved to seek a restaurant that noticed, was still flighted ;hp, where '• perhaps ho would find congenial company. As free the next day; he could sleep then as long as he pleased. When became to the station platform be met the train master’s assistant, Mr. Roy, who said to him—- “ You have just arrived in time ; I was going to send someone to hunt you up ; there is a telegram here for you.” “ A telegram for roe ?” asked Mattern, looking surprised. •• Yes ; just come into the waiting-room.” ! In a moment Mattern held the despatch in his trembling hands, “ Special! the stationmaster at Delmane will please inform Driver Mattern that his child is seriously ill with diphtheria. Doctor Loden is absent on a journey, and other help not to be had. Ask Mattern to bring a physician from Delmane with him when he retursne arly in the morning.” -Mattern felt as if be had received a stunning blow ; it was impossible for him to collect his thoughts. His only child,.the delight of his life, was hovering between life and death, with no possibility of procuring help for him, and he must remain here for hours, unable to do anyevery minute might be precious time wasted. ’* Suppose you awaken Dr. Sardo an hour before you leave to-morrow morning—-you know he lives close by—end ask him to accompany you ?” said Mr. Roy. “ You will be home by eight o’clock, and it may not be so serious as you imagine ; mothers are naturally over anxious sometimes.” “ That is something which you do not understand as you are not married,” answered Mattern rather sharply “ Eight o’clock may be too late. And lam to sit here and de nothing, while my boy is wrestling with death. Ah, no, 1 cannot endure it 1 I cannot —cannot I It is too much.” “ But what else can you do?" asked the other. “ Even if you drive over with a horse and trap you would not arrive any sooner in such a storm.as this.” • • My child—my’poor little Charlie !” groaned the father. “There is nothing you can do but wait and hope for tbe best,” said Mr. Boy.pbilosopbically. “Lie down and try to sleep for a few hours. I shall have to leek up and leave you. Goodnight, I hope everything will turn out all right.” and with that he went away. Out in the darkness stood Mattern; tbe storm raged, and the rain belt in his face. Half-past eleven 1 Waa his boy living yet ? Would medical help be of any avail the uozt morning ? Full well did he know the dangerous character of the illness against which science had hot yet found a remedy. Only by quick and prompt attention can danger be averted. After a few minutes of deep thought he suddenly turned and fairly rad to the house of Dr. Sardo and rang tbe bell. The doctor appeared at an open window above and asked the name of his'chller. “ Driver Mattern,’’was the answer. “My child has diphtheria and is in great danger.” Dr. Sardo threw tbe door bey out of the window, saying—- “ Open the door and come up ; in the meantime I will dress myself.” Mattern felt around in the darkness for the key-hole, and a few minutes later stood before the doctor, a young man who was comparatiyely new in the profession. ** Give me a description of your child’s conditipn, so that I can tako the necessary remedies with me : in diphtheria cases one most use all possible dispatch. You live here in town?’.’ “ No, doctor,” answered Mattern : and with harried breath he told his story. “ You say that the train does not return till the morning,” said the doctor, rather impatiently. “ Wby, then, did you call me at this time of night. What do you expect me to do in the meantime ?” “ Come with me, doctor,” cried Mattern, great beads of perspiration starting out on his forehead. “ You, can save my child if yon only will. Out at the station stands my locomotive under steam ; if you will come with me I will take yea to my home in an hour’s time, and my boy will be saved.” “ Are you mad ? Now, nt dead of night, when everyone is. asleep, without signals or information of any kind at the stations to be passed, you intend to run your locomotive for twenty-five miles ? Why, man, at the first intermediate station we should jump the rails because the switches would be turned wrong.” “ Indeed, doctor, there is no danger, believe me. At all of the stations the points will be turned for the train that is to leave first .in the morning, and as that is mine you need have no fear about coming with me. “ But tlic crossings are not closed, and as no one expects a train at this time we might be the Cause of a great deal of harm to passing teams.

No, no. I know every inch of the ground, and shall exercise the greatest oare when we come to the crossings. And beside, who ■would be out in weather like this ?” “ But what you propose doing is against all rules and regulations ; you will lose your position, beside being responsible for all that may happen.” “ What do I care for that if I could only save my child ? You can .’.o this for me if you only will. On my knurs I beg of you to come with me ! Oh, have pity on me !* The doctor yielded. Like some wild spirit ohthe night the solitary engine sped through the stormy darkness. Malteru had not awakened his fireman for the reason that ha did not wish to creat any unnecessary excitement in the engine house. When the doctor had taken his place Matteru threw a can of oil on the fire in order lo put the engine in quicker motion, and they were soon fiyiug along at a fearful speed, which was only lessened as they passed the first station, which they did without accident, aa the points were all turned fu the right direction. The doctor sat down in a corner and tried to finish his broken nap, and Mattern divided his attention between keeping up the fire and regulating the speed of the engine. Had Doctor Bardo any idea of the danger he was in he would not have thought of going to sleep. The last station was passed in safety. There were only seven miles more to make, and they would be at their destination, go far all had gone well- Matten. looked at

bis watch ; they had travelled the whole distance in an hour ; in fifteen minutes more the doctor could be at the sick bed of the child ; but the nearer the man came to bis home tbe more excited he became, and he piled up coal upon coal to get up more steam. While bonding down to bis work ho suddenly folt the engine give a jerk. A terrible cry followed. Mattern sprung up and looked about him. By the light of the engine he could see -that they had just piyised a crossing; The next moment they were again flying along in the darkness and storm. “ What was that ?” asked the doctor, who had been roused out of bis leep. “ Oh, nothing—very likely a stone or other substance that became fast between the rails,” answered Mattern, with choking breath. “In ,a few minutes we shall be there.” He slackened the speed of the engine, but he did it mechanically, as if in a dream. That fearful cry almost made his heart stand still. He could well imagine what had happened. Some cart or wagon must have been crossing at the time his engine came tearing along in the darkness like some spirit of evil, and no doubt he was the cause of a terrible calamity ; if not, what was the meaning of that sudden jerk, followed by a heartrending cry. There was the station. Mattern could only see dimly through the darkness, but knew the shape of the building too well to be mistaken. He stopped the engine and took the path to his home, followed by the doctor. Through the window on the second floor he could see a -light shining ; very likely it was there bis child was lying, wrestling with death ; and to save this child ho had perhaps killed and wounded—how many others ?

He groaned aloud. Slowly he dragged his weary feet up the stairs. His wife opened the door at his knock. His boy was still living. Mattern saw his ashen face and heard his rattling breath. In his ears sounded again the awful cry that he had heard a short time before. His nerves, that for hours he had-kept under control, gave way, now that he had reached his destination, and he fell to the f oor insensible. It was late the next morning when he regained consciousness, although be could not yet collect- his thoughts very clearly ; a racking headache prevented this. His limbs seemed immovable and heavy as lead. In the room in which he found himself, and which he recognised as their living room, a deathlike stillness reigned. He tried to lift his head, but in vain; he fell back on the pillow with a groan. His wife heard him and came in, but with a face pale with weeping.

“ Ruth !” he whispered. “ Oh, my dear husband, how thankful I am to see you conscious again !” she cried. 11 How is the boy ? Is he still alive ?’ “ Oh, yes, thank God ! Had you come an hour later it would have been too late, but tbe doctor thinks he is past all (Unger now. He has just been called to Icok after some people who were hurt at the crossing. A man is said to be killed and two women and one child badly injured. Try to sleep a'little now, dear husband ; that will be your best medioino. I will call you when the doctor returns.” She Idssed him and went into the next room where the child was sleeping. One person dead, three badly hurt, perhaps fatally, and through his fault ! He had had no intention of doing this ; all he thought of was the saving of his child ; but had ho a right to undertake such a fearful responsibility when he knew whet terrible consequences might follow ? But of what avail were his reflections, his selfreproaches, his remorse ? The dead could not come to life again. . What would they do with him, tbe cause of this calamity ? The least would bo a discharge from duly end a term of imprisonment; but what sufferings would not the pangs of conscience make him endure to the end of his days ? He rose in despair; he could not endure to lie still ; the air of the room almost choked him. In his ears still sounded that fearful death cry. With trembling limbs he made his way into the loom. Both wife and child were sleeping. He looked at them silently and bitter team streamed down his cheeks. What would become of those be loved so dearly ?

Slowly he went down tbe stairs ; he could not meet the eyes of,his dear ones, and without a word he opened the door and wo* out in the street. There he stood for some little time ; the fresh air seemed to do him good. The town clock struck seven—it was early yet. Mechanically be turned his steps towards the engine house ; be wanted to look after his engine, as was his daily custom. He arrived at the shed ; his engine was there—no doubt brought there by some ot his co-workers. Ha looked at it sorrowfully, and as of old began to examine it. It struck him that something might have become broken during the ride. Suddenly be heard a loud laugh. One of the workmen, whose duly it was to take out the ashes and start the fire, bad come up behind him and now said, jokingly,— “ I suppose you want to see your roast V* , “ Roast ?” he asked, “ What do you mean ?’’

The other man laughed more than ever. “lb must have given a pretty good bump. I only wonder that the engine didn’t jump the track. The front wheels were full of hair. I cleaned the whole thing and dragged the carcase away. The ashbox was full 6t bones ;it was a pity, on account of the beautiful antlers.” So saying, the workman brought ont of an old shed where the fire wood was kept, a number of the broken pieces of a deer’s antlers. •i There you see, the poor fellow fared badly ; ho did noo expect to be disturbed in his roamings at night time by the appearance of a locomotive. He was just about to pass the crossing and, frightened by the light at the front of the engine, stood still, and so you ran him down. In such cases a deer sometimes aCts more stupidly than a sheep or calf.” Mattern leaned against one of the wheels of his engine to steady himself. So the cry be heard bad been the cry of a dying stag I But nevertheless there had been an accident, where someone was killed and others wounded. Was ho awake or only in a feverish dream ? The talkative workman seemed to guess his thoughts, or perhaps felt like giving him news of which he seemed to be in ignorance: Driver Keel was not as lucky as you. This morning in taking out the early train he was unfortunate enough to inn agniust a farmer’s cart, although it was nob bis fault. The man who was driving seemed to be in a hurry, and had taken the responsibility of opening the gates, so as to cross before the coming train, when he was caught by the engina. The accident might have been much worse, but Keel quickly slackened speed when he saw the open gates. If the train had been going at full speed nothing could have saved them ; as it is, one woman had a foot broken, another an arm ; the farmer and one child were only slightly stunned, and the horses escaped without injury, although they were flung far into a ditch ; the wagon, of course, is all broken to pieces, Mr. Mattern—what ails you ? Let me go 1” The man had cause to be alarmed, for, like one bereft of his senses, Mattern had suddenly thrown his arms around him and kissed his coal-blackened face, laughing and crying at the same time.

Martero. on account of going ogainst all instructions, was taken before an examining committee and lined one month’s wages, but otherwise was not punished, as it became well known why he had done such a desperate act. As for Dr. Sardo no blame was attached to him ;on the contrary,his humane deed brought him considerable practice. Neither of the men is alive now, but the remembrance of this stormy night will long remain with those who are still living to tell of its events.