Democratic Sentinel, Volume 11, Number 18, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 3 June 1887 — THE CRAZY ENGINEER. [ARTICLE]

THE CRAZY ENGINEER.

BY MRS. CLARA MERWIN.

At a small station in a vast rolling prairie of a Western State, there alighted from an express train running east a gentleman and his daughter, who, upon being recognized by the bystanders, were at once greeted by a loud cheer, for it was not often that the popular President of the railroad found time to visit the little town of Rayville, and also confer upon it a greater honor by bringing with him his lovely daughter Gracie, a maiden of twenty. The cheer caused a young man to glance out of a window of the smoking-car, and instantly jerking in again, he hurled a half-consumed cigar away, and with rapid steps sought the palace-car, and seizing from a seat he had vacated a short while be!ore, for a quiet smoke, his goods and chattels, he bounded forth upon the platform, at the imminent risk of life and limb, for the train had already started. The face of the young girl grew pale at the risk run by the young man, while her father, the railroad President, said quickly: "You are rash, sir.” Without a word, but raising his hat in reply, the young man walked into the hotel near by, and had barely time to register the name of “George Coventry, California,” upon the books, when a cry from without caused him to again go to the door. Far away over the prairie, the express train was Hying, while in the other direction, coming on like the wind, was seen a large and very powerful locomotive. “The dispatch engine! the dispatch engine!” was the cry of the crowd, and all eyes were turned in the direction of the coming locomotive, while Mr. Madison, the President, paused as he was about to enter a handsome carriage, and remarking quietly, “Gracie, dear, I must see what dispatches this man brings,” turned and watched the approach of the great iron messenger. A few moments more, and the engine stopped in front of the hotel, and the engineer, a tall, massive-built, smoke-be-grimed man of about fifty, sprang to the ground, with a small black-leather sachet hung around his neck. “Is President Madison here?” he asked, abruptly, as he glanced around him. “Ay, ay, my man,” said the President; and, discovering him, the engineer walked forward and handed him the bag of dispatches, in reading which Mr. Maaison was soon very deeply engaged, while the bearer stood silently by, his fiery dark eye bent upon the railroad king with an expression haid to fathom. But suddenly his gaze sought the carriage that had been sent for Mr. Madison, and, falling upon the beautiful young face of Gracie, he started quickly, his huge form trembled, and even through the dust and smoke that besmeared his handsome face, he was seen to turn almost livid, caused by some inward emotion awakened in him. “Giri, you must come with me—ha! ha! ha!” he cried, wildly. And ere any one could prevent he seized poor Gracie in his arms, a few mighty bounds and he had reached his engine, and, with a dexterity that was wonderful, he let on the steam, raised the brakes, and away the huge locomotive darted, leaving behind the two firemen that had accompanied the engineer, and who had gone into the hotel for refreshmants. “My God! He is mad! He is crazy! My daughter! My poor, dear Gracie!” cried Mr. Madison, like every one else present, unable to raise a finger to aid the frightened maiden. “Ha! ha! ha!” came back the mocking laugh of the big engineer, as he sped away, leaving the crowd staring wildly after him. “Is there no engine here?” suddenly cried a commanding voice; and the young man who had registered his name as George Coventry rushed from the hotel door. “Yes; the express changed engines here; yonder ’iis, cooling up for the next train,” cried a railroad official. And ’ away the young man rushed, to where the locomotive stood, sprang aboard, hurled aside the engineer and fireman, who ' would have prevented him, and the next instant away he was flying over the broad prairie, in hot puisuit of the man who had so boldly stolen poor Gracie Madison. Every eye at the station was strained out over the prairie, first at the distant speck that denoted the fugitive locomotive, and then at the rapidly disappearing engine driven by brave George Coventry. On, on they flew, pursuer and pursued, the engines groaning beneath the pressure put i upon them, and yet urged faster and faster, for the engineer fugitive suddenly saw

that he was pursued, and recklessly did he let on steam. Poor Gracie, still seated where her captor had placed her, but powerless to move, watched with aching heart the every action of the man before her, and heard with dread his mocking words: “Hr, ha, ha, Gracie Madison, revenge has come at last, after many years; yes, many years. Ha, ha, ha!” “Ob, my God, he is mad!” cried the unhappy girl, and then, as the shrill whistle shrieked forth its warning notes, she glanced ahead of her, and descried a station near at hand—no, ’twas past, for, like a flash of lightning, the huge engine had gone by and left the little hamlet far behind. Station after station was thus passed, for the telegraph had hashed along the wires to keep the road clear, for a crazy engineer was coming, and at every place gaping crowds stood gazing with horror at the wild speed at which the huge engine was urged. A terrific roar, a shriek of the whistle, a gaunt form with haggard face peering ahead, the flutter of a gray dress, and the fugitive locomotive had gone by, to be followed the moment after by another loud wail of the whistle, a groaning sound from the crushing wheels, and the pursu ng engine with the stern, pale face of George Coventry, had also darted by at a speed even greater than the pursued. “Oh, heaven, have mercy?” cried the frightened girl, and then a ray of hope came into her face as she saw the pursuing engine coming rapidly on after them. On, on it came, each moment drawing nearer and nearer until, with a glad cry, Gracie recognized the man who was coming to her rescue as the one who had been her fellow-traveler during the day and had jumped so> recklessly from the moving train. Her cry caused the crazy engineer to glance backward, and a mocking laugh and bitter curse commingled upon his lips as he descried that hardly fifty yards now separated the two engines. But with set teeth and wild, glaring eyes he urged on his iron horse, whistling loudly for the next station in sight, while he hurled with one hand a few of the heaviest pieces of coal in the tender upon the track, in the hope of destroying his pursuer. Yet on they swept by the station like a flash, and there Gracie d scovered, drawn upon a switch to let them go by, the express train that had taken her to R , and which had run one side as soon as they learned that a crazy engineer was behind them.

Still away they flew, and nearer and nearer came the pursuer until the two engines were fast together. "Drop down behind the tender,” cried the ringing voice of George Coventry; and, obedienly, Gracie shrunk down int© the bottom of the engine, while the wild, harsh laugh of the crazy engineer rang out, to mingle the next instant with the sharp reports of a pistol, as shot after shot was fired, until half a dozen leaden messengers had been hurled after the mad engineer, who, with a low groan, sank down lifeless beside the frightened girl, for a bullet from George Coventry’s pistol had pierced his brain. An instant more and George Coventry was beside Gracie, having clambered over the rear of the engine, and raising her, half dead with fright, he Said gently: “There is no danger now, Miss Madison, for I will stop our mad speed.” In a few moments he had brought the speed down, and in a short while ran quietly into the next station, where he handed the body of the crazy engineer over to the proper authorities, and escorted Gracie to a hotel to await the arrival of her father, who was instantly telegraphed of the safety of his daughter. A few hours more and President Madison arrived, overjoyed at greeting alive and safe his darling daughter, and most enthusiastic in the praise of her brave preserver. “But come, Mr. Coventry, let us see about this poor madman,” said Mr. Madison; and together they sought the place where the maniac had been taken to prepare for burial. One glance into the haggard face, now no longer besmeared with smoke-and dirt, and Mr. Madison exclaimed: “Great heavens! it is Norton Morris.”

“You knew him, then?” asked George. “Yes. We were boys together; once the best of friends, and then rivals for the hand of Gracie’s mother. I was the most successful, and poor Norton Morris went from home, became a drunkard, ’twas said, and for years I had not seen or heard of him. “Yes, I know all now. His reason was unseated, and beholding me once more, and with me Gracie, who is the image of her dead mother, it drove him to seek a terrible revenge. Poor, poor Morris.” - Much affected, Mr. Madison returned to acquaint his daughter with the sad particulars and story of the crazy engineer. The following day the poor maniac was buried with honor, for Mr. Madison wonld have it so; and then the President and his daughter wended their way homeward, after having received a promise from George Coventry to visit them in a fe weeks; for Mr. Madison had learned from the young man that he belonged to a good family in New Haven, but, having been rather wild while yet in his teens, hid run away and gone to California to seek his fortune, and, having found it, was returning to his parental roof-tree, as a prodigal son, to beg forgiveness for the follies of his earlier years. True to his promise George Coventry sought the home of the Madisons, and his visit extended over a week’s duration; for between the beautiful Gracie and her brave preserver a feeling of true love had sprung up, which had found place in the heart of the young man “at first sight,” for he confessed that he had loVed her from the moment he saw her on the train, and had only stopped at R—■— when he suddenly discovered from the smoking-car that her father had gotten off there. It was a pure love match; ran smoothly through loverhood; and. as married people, no two happier beings live than do these two, whose wooing was brought about through the wild act of the crazy engineer.

Concerning the use of tea and coffee by children, Dr. J. W. Putnam, of Buffalo, says: “In these little people nothing but harm can come from the use of such cerebral stimulants ak*tea and coffee. I speak emphatically, because not only among the poor and uneducated, but among the rich, who should know better, this practice is marvelously prevalent. Childhood is the period when the nervous activity is at its greatest. The nervous system is pushed to its Utmost capacity, and long is the list of victims that follow its over-stimulation.”— Dr. Foote's Health Monthly.