Jasper County Democrat, Volume 13, Number 46, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 17 September 1910 — THE DISPATCHER AT ERIE. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE DISPATCHER AT ERIE.

He Had the Makings of a Hero In Him.

By HADLEY F. FREEMAN.

[Copyright, 1910, by American Press Association.} “Sara h, I have finished Harvard, and my father will obtain for me the second vice presidency of the Great Central lines* You know I love you and you only. Will you marry me?” “Henry.” she said, “let us not discuss it here.. Come with me into the conservatory.” Once seated there, Henry, impetuous and quick tempered, burst out: “Sarah, you would not refuse me? Have you deceived me? Do jJ you love another? Would you”— “Henry,” she interrupted, “be quiet I love no one but you. but 1 will never marry a man who has not proved his ability.” “But I do not need”— ' “Do not need! True, not now, but if a crash should come or your father should die what would you do? W r hat could you do? What work have you ever done? Do something to prove your ability.” “Sarah, you are right I have never done anything. I have been quite useless, but I will show my worth.” The effect on Henry was remarkable. The next day bright and early

BUSHED TOWABD THU BIG KOUNDHOUB*. he entered his father's private office. The elder Sherlock greeted his son with a pleasant “Good morning." “Dad,” Henry stammered, “I want to talk things over with you.” “What’s wrong now?” “Everything." “And in particular?’ “Sarah won’t marry me until I do something.” “And you intend”—

“To throw up the vice, presidency, Start in at the bottom and work np.” “Very well. When do yon wish to begin ?’ / J. ‘Tomorrow.” , “Ail right. I’ll see to the job.” That night his father said quietly: “Repoift to the dispatcher at Erie, O. Leave here at 2:30 a. m. It’s fortunate for you that telegraphy was one of your youthful whims. Just as soon as yon learn the Job you will be given a responsible berth.” “Good night.” said Henry and turned in. And the next morning found him on his way from New York to Erie without having seen Sarah. Happy in the thought that be was to prove himself, he spent most of his trip composing a letter “to her telling all and explaining bis departure without seeing her. The next afternoon he reached Erie tired and sleepy From supper he went directly to bed in the home of one of the dispatchers, where he had secured room and board, and at 6 the next morning he began work. He sood found that train dispatching was not easy. During the first weeks of his work he was assisted and watched by the dispatcher whose place be was to take. Then began the night shift. As far as population was concerned, Erie was hardly on the map, but as a railroad point it was most important. It was a division point of consequence, as several branches of the main line converged there.

Henry was given complete charge of a branch which boasted but four trains, so it was easy for him to take care of the wire and the train sheets. How could be keep awake? The station with its cozy fire was almost homelike except for the feeling of loneliness. He worked on, continually ebeered by his letters from home and Sarah and by his own satisfaction at doing something well. And the first pay day—could the bank hold his first four weeks' wages, his S3O? Then he was given a really important desk. But soon be began to be discouraged. Nothing happened. There seemed to be no way to prove himself. And then the test came.

In the middle of February came probably the meanest and most severe storm ever known to that region. The rain, chilled by the lower air and falling on the colder objects I>elow, froze and formed one continuous ice sheet enveloping everything below. Down went trees, fences, wires and bridges—work, work night and day for the repair gangs. With. the wires down, the railroads resorted to the old schedule system of dispatching. But trains were late and the tracks slippery. After six hours of herculean labor a single line was run along the afflicted district of the Great Central lines and limited communication resumed.

On the night of the 16th Henry was sitting drowsily by his little stove In these dreams was he engrossed when suddenly and unexpected came the call for Erie—Er, er. Answering, Sherlock received the awful message: “Rocky cut bridge down and the National limited has passed here. Signed, Springdale.” Springdale was the first night station east of Erie and thirty-two miles away. Rocky cut was a mile and a half from Erie in the same direction and spanned by an old wooden rail-

road bridge. What should he do? Quickly he thought and quickly formed his plan. ' On went his hat, coat and gloves, and out the door he tore and rushed toward the .big roundhouse. On a nearby siding with steam up stood a switch engine, into which he sprang after opening the switch on to the main track.

He palled the reverse lever and hacked out of the siding on to the main track. With all possible haste he reset the switch, re-entered the cab and opened wide the throttle. Never before had he gone so fast, never before had be attempted to run alone. In fact, his largest experience in running had been acquired on his father's private train. Now he seemed to stand still. Yet the cut soon opened before him. He braced himself, jammed on both brakes, and as the engine stopped on the edge of the bank he swung to the ground, slipped on the ice and snow and finally sank down In a heap.

He tried to rise. He could use but one foot—he had broken his ankle. How, with only one leg, conid he cross the river? Yet he crawled down to the edge, hoping to make his way over on the ice. But the river, contrary to his expectations, was open. He wavered, almost backed out, then thought of Sarah and his opportunity—and plunged into the icy flood. Hindered by his useless leg, he seemed to make but little progress. Would he never reach the other side? He was fast becoming exhausted when he struck firm ground and crawled out of the water. Painfully he made his way up to a section shanty, where were kept torpedoes for just such an emergency. He grasped several and hurried as fast as possible up the track. He must give the warning far enough from the bridge to allow the racing train time to stop.

And now his iron constiution, which won him collegiate sporting fame, served him well.

But he must go faster. He had but little time. He tried to walk on his broken leg, but it would not support him. He must crawl again. Oh, if he could only run, even for a minute or two! But hark! Even now in the distance he hears the whistle of the approaching train. Disappointed, he stops his mad race and fixes the torpedoes securely to the track. Now he waits, but not for long. The train reels around the curve. Suppose the torpedoes should fail! But his fears are groundless. As the train passes, one torpedo after another explodes with a deafening roar, the brakes are slammed on, the engine and coaches groan, creak and come to a standstill. The train is saved!

Exhausted and no longer upheld by the intense excitement, he sank down unconscious. In this condition he was found by the trainmen. From letters in his pockets his identity was established and became known throughout the train. “Henry Sherlock 1” cried a young woman who rushed out of a car.

She hurried down the track to where they were taking the unconscious man Into a sleeper and immediately assumed command. After he had been carefully placed in a berth she sought to soothe him with endearing words and loving caresses. In the meantime a brakeman went through the car for a surgeon. One speedily came, and together they set the broken ankle, bound it and made splints to hold it in position. Again the, doctor examined the man and then shook his head ominously. “He has developed pneumonia and will need the most careful nursing.” “Oh!” cried Sarah.

“He had best be taken to a hospital as soon as possible. Will you attend to it?” The limited was detoured over another railroad, and when they reached Toledo, the first large city, Henry, still unconscious, was removed from the train and carried to a hospital.

„ With her father and mother Sarah had been on her way to California. After the accident she refused to go further, but determined to stay in Toledo with friends. Brave she tried to be, yet the strain was terrible. It was because of her he bad gone away. If he were to die it would be her fault! Thus she worried. Would he never recover? ;

Then on a sunny and summer-like day in early March, with the warm breeze blowing through the window, the recovering patient was allowed to see one visitor. “Whom shall it be?’ “Sarah—Miss Greene.”

And when she rushed into the room and to the bedside, weak though he was, he was strong enough to clasp her tightly to him, while he asked the unnecessary question about his ability and was answered by the dearest girl in the world with a look, a kiss and the one word “Yes.”