Rensselaer Republican, Volume 27, Number 31, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 April 1896 — A DESPERATE UNDERTAKING. [ARTICLE]

A DESPERATE UNDERTAKING.

The bell sounded for the last time. lOngineer Mnttern kissed his wife, leaped to his engine and with a shrill whistle the train slowly begun to move. The village that it was leaving consisted—of a few straggling houses, the homes of the railroad men, and the toad itself was used principally for the transportation of cattle and freight, for tout a few travelcrs imssed through this wild region. The distance to Delmane, to which place they were Itoiind, was a matter es about twenty-five miles, and Mattern arrived there in three hours. In spite •f the darkness a udtHsagreeaSlS wcath er. In the early evening a strong wind toad arisen, and till midnight a perfect tourrlcane raged. As soon ns the train arrived at Delmane the hells gave the signal which told the employes all along the line that they could seek their rest, as there were no night trains running on that road. Mattern rested for a little while and then looked after the work he had been given to do, which occupied him until about II o'clock. Leaving the engine standing w ith a low tire, as he was to return to?ihe village in six hours, he gaye the fireman permission to go to the engine house and get a little sleep. He himself concluded to seek a restaurant that, he had seen, was still lighted op, where, perhaps, he would find congenial company. As ho was free’the next day ho could sleep then as long as he pleased. When he came to the station platfonto be met the trainmaster's assistant, Mr. Roy, who said to him: “You have arrived in time; I was going to send someone to hunt you up; there is a telegram hero for you.” “A telegram for me?” asked Mattern, looking surprised. “Yes; just come into the--waiting—-room.” In a moment Mattern held the dispatch in his trembling hands. “Special! The trainmaster at Delmaue wilt please inform Engineer Mattern that his child is seriously ill with diphtheria. Dr. Loden is absent on a joarney, and otljer help not to l*e had. Ask Mattern to bring a physician from Delmane with him when he returns early In the morning.” —■■ _■ “My child—my poor little Charlie!’* groaned the father. “There is nothing you can do hut wait and hope for the best,” said Mr. Roy philosophically. “Lie down and try to Bleep for a few hours. I shall have to fee* «f» aud leave toope everything will turn out all right.” And with that he went away. Out in the darkness stood Mattern; the storm raged, and the rain heat in his face. Half-past 11! Was his boy liv•ug yet? Would medical help l>e of any •vail the next morning? Full well did toe know the dangerous character of the Illness against which science has not yet found a remedy. Only by quick •nd prompt attention can - danger be •verted. After a few moments of deep thought toe suddenly turned and fairly ran to the bouse of Dr. Sardo and rang the bell. The Doctor appeared at an opou window above and asked the name of the caller. t “Kagineer Mattern,” was the answer. “My child has diphtheria and is in great danger.” Dr. Sardo threw the door key out of the window, saying; “Open the door and come tip: in the meantime I will dress myself.” Mattern felt around in the darkness |*or the keyhole, and a few moments * I ater stood before the Doctor, a youug man, who was comparatively new in | toe profession. ' “Give me a description of your child's nondition. so that I can take the necest«Bary remedies with me;4a diphtheria tames one must use all possible dispatch. You lire here in town?” “No, Doctor,” answered Mattern. and prith hurried breath he told Ills story. “You say that the train does not return till the morning?” said the Doctor, rather impatiently. “Why, then, . Uid you call me at this tiw of night?, what do you expect me to do in the t aeantime.” “Come' with me, Doctor!” cried Mattorn, great beads of perspiration starting out on his foiehead. “You can save

my cMld^tf-you only wilt Out a* the station stands my locomotive under «tcam; if you Will come with me I will take you to my home in an (hour's time, and my boy will be saved." “Are you mad? Now, at the 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 ihlermcdiate station we should jump the track because the switches would be turned wrong.” “Indeed. Doctor, there Is no danger, “believe me. At all of the stations the switches will be turned for the train that is to leave first in the morning. -and as that is mine, yon need have no fear about coming with me.” “But the 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 lo passing teams.” “So, no, I know every iuch of the ground, and shall exercise the greatest care when we come to the crossings. And, besides, who would be out in weather like this?” “But What you doing is against all rules and regulations; you will lose your position, besides being responsible for all that may bap-pen.” “What do I care for that if t could only save my child? You can do this for me if you only will. On my knees I l>egof you to come with me! Oh. have pity on me!” y The Doctor yielded. Like some wild spirit of the night the soiltary engine sped through the stormy darkness. Mattern had not awakened his fireman for the reason that he did hot wish to create any unnecessary excitement in the engine house. When the Doctor bad taken his place Mattern threw a can of oil on the fire in order to put the engine in quicker motion, n,nd they were soon Hying along at a fearful speed, which was only lessoned as they passed the first station, which they did without accident, as the : Swffohes wore turned in the right directiou. , 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 Dr. Sardo any idea of the danger he was in he would not have thought of goiug to sleep. The last station was passed In safety. There were only seven miles more to make and they would be at their destination. While bending down to his work Mattern suddenly felt the engine give a jerk. A terrible cry followed. Mattern sprang up and looked about him. By the light of the engine he co.yld see that they had Just passed a railroad crossing. The next moment they were again Hying along in the darkness and storm. “What was Jhere?” asked the Doctor, who had been roused out of, his sleep. “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 l>e there,” lie slackened the speed of the engine, hut he did it mechanically, ns if in a dream. That fearful cry almost made liis heart stand still. lie 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 evlljiud no doubt he was the caus6 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 thP 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 his child was lying, wrestling, with death; and to save this child he 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 itis ashen f a ml 4r d.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 floor insensible. It was late the next morning when the engineer regained consciousness, although he could not 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 recognized 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. IDs wife heard him and came in, but with a face pale with weeping. “Ruth!” he whispered. “Oh. my dear husband, ltow thankful I am to see you conscious again!” She cried. “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 the Doctor thinks he is past all danger now. He has just been called to look after some people who were hurt at the railroad 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 medicine. I will call you when the Doctor returns.” She kissed him and went into the next room where the child was sleeping. One person jlsaiL ~ibree .hadly. JmrL. perhaps fatally, and through his fault! He had had no intention of doing this; all he thought of was the saving fit his child; but had he a right to undertake such a fearful responsibility when he

knew what terrible consequence# might follow?« 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 iato the bedroom. Both wife and child were sleeping. He looked aTfheffl sllentTy and bitter tears streamed down his cheeks. What would become of those he loved so dearly? Slowly he went down the stairs; he coiild not meet the eyes of his dear ones, and without a word he opened the door and was out on the street. There he stood for some little time; the fresh air seemed to do him good. 1 -—The.town clock struck 7—lt was early yet. Mechanically he turned his steps toward the engine house; he 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 of his coworkers. lie looked at it sorrowfully, and as of old began to examine It. It struck him that something might have been broken during the ride. ■*. Suddenly he heard a loud laugh. One of the workmen, whose duty it was to take out the ashes and start the fire, had come up behind him and now said, jokingly: “I suppose you want to sex; your roast?” “Roast?” he asked. “What dc you mean?” The other man laughed more than ever; *TT~must have been 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 carcass away. The ashbox was full of bones; it was a pity, on account of the beautiful antlers.” So saying, the workman brought out of an old shed where the firewood was kept a number of the broken pieces of a deer's antlers. “There, yon see, the poor fellow fared badly; he did not expect to be dlsturbed In his roamings at night time by the appearance of a locomotive. Ho 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 sometimes acts more stupidly than a sheep or a calf.” Mattern leaned against one of the wheels of his engine to steady himself. So the cry he had heard had been the cry of a dying stag! But, nevertheless, there had been an accident, where someone was killed and others wounded. Was he awake or only in a feverish dream? The talkative workman seemed to guess Jm thoughts, or, perhaps, felt like giving him news of Which he seemed to be In ignorance. “Engineer Keel was not as lucky as you. This morning in taking out the early train, he was unfortunate enough to run against a farmer’s cart, although it was not his 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 engine. 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 is all broken to pieces. Mr. Mattern—what ails you? Let me go!” 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-black-ened face, crying and laughing at the same time. Mattern, on account of going against all instructions, was taken before an examining committee and fined 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 prac- *• - . , . , **•: -WH3EXSI Neither of the men is alive flow, but the remembrance of this stormy night will long remain with those who are still living to tell of its events.—London Tid-Bits.