SAVING THE EXPRESS.

Western Star, Issue 2216, 24 June 1898, Page 6

SAVING THE EXPRESS.

44 Is it true, John, that you are to drive the express to-morrow night ? ” There was a world of solicitude in Mary Sexton’s voice as she looked up into John Manning’s face, her eyes showing even more than her voice the dread which had taken possession of her. 44 It is true, Mary darling, but have no fear,

I can manage it all right,” and John smiled as he endeavoured to reassure his sweetheart that there was no danger in connection with the trip 44 But the Lake is nearly even full, and it was said this morning that the dam might break. In that case there will be plenty ol danger at Lake Pass,” pursued Mary. “ Tush, little one, that’s only the talk of one who knows nothing about the dam. It’s strong enough, and you need never fear about its breaking. Good-bye, sweetheart,” he said, bending over and pressing his lips to hers. But she still clung to him, loth to let him start ; be disengaaged himself, hurried to the station, and stepped upon his iron horse, and slowly the train rumbled away in the darkness from Horuell station towards the mountains 50 miles away, leaving Mary on the platform, her eyes too bedimmed by tears io see her lover.

All that night and the next day a vague

feeling of impending dangi r filled her heart, and her apprehension became more intense when ram began to tall in torrents early in the afternoon. The D.L. and S. branch runs from Hornell to Watennere up to the Westmoreland hills, 50 miles sway. The first ten miles are down a steep descent and towards a narrow valley. Then the line is laid between two ranges of hills, the pass not being more than a mile across in its widest part. Just at the base of the Lake an immense body of water which furnishes power to numbers of mills close by the line turns sharply to the right. To avoid tunnelling the road then doubles completely, and runs back, almost parallel to its first course, to Downer’s gap,within two miles of Mary’s home. Thus the first twenty odd miles of the line run in the shape of an elongated loop. The branch then continues on an easy stretch to Watermerc. The run from Hornell usually occupies nearly two hours, but the return journey co ild be made in a trifle over an hour and a half. Every one in Hornell knew Mary Sexton, but she was a constant lass, and she had smiles for no lover but the sturdy engineer. John Man ning, the friend of her youth, the man who for years had been almost a brother to her ; for Mary was an orphan., and had known the tendei solicitude of a parent only in early childhood. It was only natural, therefore, that the station and the engine-house were places of engrossing interest to her, and that after she had acquired a knowledge of reading and writing

she should solve the intricacies of telegraphy. She was an apt pupil, and for many months had been in the habit of relieving the regular railway clerk from time to time. It was considerably after eight o’clock in th(

evening when Mary left her home for the station, and though she knew she bad to wait until 9 40 o’clock for John’s train to return she could not rest easy while there was any doubt as to the solidity of Lake dam. She stepped into the station a few minutes before the half hour, prepared to ask for the latest news, but she paused with surprise when she saw that the place was empty. She was still wondering whether the operator had gone, when her acute ear caught the telegraph call, *• Ky,” repeated again and again with what seemed to be feverish rapidity. iVifcbout stopping to remove her shawl, she hastened to the instrument, opened the key,and gave the answering symbol. There was a br'n f pause, and then hurriedly she read ;

“ Dam at Lake likely to go at any momonl. Water even with top. Mill hands had fled to high ground.—Hr.” “ lit ” was the signature of the clerk at the station just beneath the lake, and she recognised it instantly. Opening the key again she rattled off :

‘ What time is the express due there ?”

The reply came

“In fifty minutes, or at 9.17. If the train gets into the pass just as dam breaks every one will be lost ”

The message abruptly ended, and Mary realised 1 hat something had caused the operator to leave his instrument. She saw the danger to John and the express.

Though her heart throbbed like an engine, she lighted a red lantern, and, hastening from the station, she sped breathlessly through the street, hardly forming, in the frenzy of her physical exertion, an outline of a plan.

I have, half an hour in which to reach Downer’s (Jap. John is due thereat 8.57,” she muttered to herself, and her face bespoke the determination she had reached. “ I can reach the point of the spur track at the (Jap in that time. My lantern will show up the expnss. I’ll throw up the point. That’ll send il up the Hue towards the quarries at its end. It’ll stop in 200 yards after passing the point, and so I’ll save it from entering the pass.” She hurried along for many slowly-passing minutes, unmindful of the storm which had drenched her, and likewise unmindful of the rough gravel which cut through her thin slippers and bruised her feet. Presently, above the roar of the rain and the wind she heard the blast of a locomotive whistle. To her agonised mind, it seemed to scream, “ Mary ! Mary ! ” dying away in a long moan like that which comes from a person in pain But scarcely had the sound died in the distance whi n she became aware of even a more horrid noise borne on the wind from the direction of the pass, a noise like that made by the crashing of trees in a gate. Again the whistle sounded, and its shriek pierced her heart like a knife. She quickened her frantic run. A few moments more and she was descending the hill which ended at Downer's Gap. As she neared the point she snatched a moment to cast a look backward, and saw the bright gleam of the engine’s light. tihe swung the lantern round her head as she ran. In an instant she altered the point ; and even while her Ungers were groping for the lock-ing-pin the locomotive dashed by. She had looked up as it struck the point-rail, and saw John Manning’s face on the engine; and even while she looked she heard him cry : “ Mary ! ” Mary Sexton heard, dimly, the whistle for 11 on with the brakes,” the sound of escaping steam, the click of brake clamps, and the sound of grinding iron ; then she fainted.