The Storyteller

New Zealand Tablet, Volume XXXVII, Issue 20, 20 May 1909, Page 3

The Storyteller

NOT AFRAID

As the passenger train drew alongside the station a slender young man stepped to the platform. He was less than' thirty, a boyish-looking fellow, a little above medium height, straight and square-shouldered. The newcomer paused and looked about him.. The few shabby idlers regarded him curiously. He stepped up to a stout man in an oily jacket who was eiideavoring to decipher the markings on a box of freight. ' Station master? ' The man looked up. < Yes.' ' I want to get to the mines. What's the best way ° ' The man looked him over from hat to shoes. ' Minin' engineer ? ' ' Yes.' ' The place ain't bad, but it's a mighty tough gang to handle. Jest now, they're all stirred up over the firm' of the old sup'rintendent. Got drunk and let some property get destroyed an' came near killing a lot o' the men. Then the old man Guthrie fired him. But th' miners didn't want him to go.' The stranger only nodded and passed on. When he neared a waggon under a tree a stout man suddenly confronted him. ' Hullo,' said the stout man. He was short in stature, unshaven and roughly clad. 'Hullo,' said the traveller. 'Are you Mr. Haskins?' ' I'm Jim Haskins.' "\ ' The station master suggested that you might take me over to the Gloria mines.' The stout man frowned. ' Thet's one o' Joe's fool jokes,' he said. The stout man jerked his thumb toward the waggon. ' Thet's dynamite in there,' he said. The young man looked at the boxes curiously. ' That's all right,' he quietly said. ' How soon do you start?' The stout, man stared at him. Then he went to the horses' heads. ' Get in,' he growled. ' All right,' said "the stranger, and took his seat. ( That's a good team you have there,' he said. The stout man suddenly smiled. ' They understand the bizness they're engaged in,' he said with a dry chuckle. ' Gettin' a little old now, an' I'm af eared th' n'gh hoss won't stand if much longer. Like hosses ?' ' Very much.' ' Handled 'em any ?' ' Ever since I was a small boy.' The stout man moved his head again. ' What are you — mmm' engineer ?' . 'Yes.' ' Goin' to stay for any length o' time ? 1 1 hope so.' The stout man shook his head. ' I dunno as you'll like it,' he said. ' They gen'ly don't. An' jest now th' boys a-re a good deal stirred up over th' old superintendent bein' fired.' ' And why should the miners have such a high regard for the old superintendent?' the young man asked. ' They're a queer lot,' the driver answered. ' They liked Jack Barclay 'cause he wuz a good deal of a man when he wuz sober. Jack wuz the fust feller down the shaft after the explosion two years ago. He wasn't 'fraid o' nuthin' — an' that's what th' boys liked in him.' He bent forward a little more, his eyes on the laboring team. They were winding around the side of the mountain, a somewhat stiff grade, and the team was feeling the weight of the load. ' Shall I get out ?' the young man presently asked. ' Afraid ?' chuckled the driver. ' No,' replied the passenger with a quick laugh. ' I'll promise to walk beside the waggon. It might make the haul a little easier for the horses.' ' Sit still,' said the driver. ' Th' team's all right. This piece o' climbing don't last much longer.' He paused; ' I'm takin' quite a fancy to you, young fellow.' He laughed, ' That's a good deal for Jim Haskins to say.' ' Thank you,' said the passenger. ' I'll rely on you to say a good word for me.' ' Why do you want my good word ?' The passenger laughed lightly. ' Why ? Because I'm the new superintendent.' The old driver held in the horses with a sudden tightening of the reins. They stopped obediently.

' It's all down hill th' rest of th' way,' he said. ' I always give 'em a little breather here. You can get out an' walk to the level if you want to.' ' No,' said George Guthrie. ' I'll ride.' ' Th' road would be purty good ef 'twasn't for th' bowlders, an' we ain't in no condition to stand a sudden jar. Gitap.' The horses moved ahead, the driver holding them ;n; n firmly, his short figure thrust forward, his keen eyes on the road. And then something happened. It was not the unexpected. Quite likely the old driver had' carried the thought of this emergency down the hill with him many times. ' As the team, firmly held back by Haskins, felt their way downward, the nigh horse suddenly slipped and fell. As the animal went down, Haskins, who was leaning well forward, was jerked from his seat, and half turning fell heavily across the sharp edge of the dashboard. He gave a low groan and turned white. George Guthrie reached forward and drew the old man "back to his seat, his hands still clutching the reins. A.s the driver dropped the fallen horse plunged forward. The plunge was so sudden that the reins would have been dragged from the old man's hands had not George caught them. 'Jump!' shrieked the old man. 'Jump for your life! Never mind me. Save yourself. In a moment more it may be too late. Jump !' - • He clutched at Guthrie's coat, his face writhing with pain. But the young man did not heed him. His feev firmly braced, his stout young arms extended, he did his best to hold them in the roadway. And the old driver crouched on the floor, moaning and praying. The road wound along the side of the mountain and came out in the valley where the mining village lay. George Guthrie's tense gaze swiftly took in the possibilities that confronted him. If he could guide the frantic horses safely around the curve just ahead he might hope to quiet them down on the easy grade below. And now they were close to the curve, and his arms stiffened and his grip tightened. And the old man on the floor looked up and caught sight of his face and cried out in terror. George half arose and called to the team reassuringly. Instinctively his body swayed to one side as they struck the curve, the waggon careened, he fancied he heard the load behind him shifting, the old man cried out again and covered his face with his hands, there was a quick swerve as George swung the horses, and then they were on the almost level road galloping free. It was half a holiday at the mines, and the main village street was filled with idlers. They gave way as the team came pounding down the incline, and stared in wild amazement at the tall figure gripping the reins. ' Cut them loose,' cried the stranger as he drew the team to a standstill. George Guthrie stooped and lifted the old man to the seat. ' Haskins has been hurt,' he told them. ' A little brandy will revive him.' A flask was quickly passed up and pressed to the driver's lips. ' Lift me up,' he said to George. ■ ' Men,' he cried, and his voice suddenly grew strong. 1 You all know me, old Jim Haskins. I've been hurt, and I've rubbed elbows with death, and I've something to tell you. The horse fell on th' hill yonder an' the team ran away — ran away with all that death behind vs — an' I was hurt an' helpless — an' this boy caught the reins away from me ' — he looked vp — ' caught th' reins an' gripped 'em fast, an' I cried to him to jump and save himself — an' he wouldn't do it, men — he wouldn't leave me — he clung fast to th'" lines an' kej>t the team on th' road — an' me lying there helpless an' all that death behind vs — an' he swung 'em round the curve, men — you know th' place — an' he brought the team down here.' His voice, which had faltered suddenly, grew strong again. ' Look at him, men,' he cried. This is th' lad that saved my life an' never thought of savin' his own ! Look at him well, for he's your new superintendent — an' a braver man than Jack Barclay ever thought of being! Give him a mighty cheer of welcome, boys. Now I' A wild roar went up from the excited throng as the old man, limp and trembling, fell back in George Guthrie's arms. ' You've won 'em, lad,' he gasped. ' It's all right now.' — Cleveland fesain Dealer.