Ranching For Sylvia Volume-554 - Harold Bindloss (best black authors TXT) 📗

By Fire, And

Leaned, Dead And Blackened, Athwart Each Other.  Beneath Them, Shallow

Pools Gleamed In The Hollows Of The Rocks, Which Rose In Rounded Masses

Here And There, And The Gravel Of The Graded Track Was Seamed By Water

Channels.  George Remembered Having Heard The Roar Of Heavy Rain And A

Volume 554 Chapter 3 (A Matter Of Duty) Pg 18

Crash Of Thunder During The Night, But It Was Now Wonderfully Still And

Fresh, And The Resinous Fragrance Of The Firs Filled The Chilly Air.

 

Walking Forward, Clear Of The Curious Passengers Who Poured From The

Cars, He Saw A Lake Running Back Into The Woods.  A Tall Water-Tank

Stood On The Margin With A Shanty, In Which George Imagined A Telegraph

Operator Was Stationed, At Its Foot.  Ahead, The Great Locomotive Was

Pouring Out A Cloud Of Sooty Smoke.  When George Reached It He Waited

Until The Engineer Had Finished Talking To A Man On The Line.

 

"What Are We Stopping For?  Has Anything Gone Wrong?" He Asked.

 

"Freight Locomotive Jumped The Track At A Wash-Out Some Miles Ahead,"

Explained The Engineer.  "Took The Fireman With Her; But I Don't Know

Much About It Yet.  Guess They'll Want Me Soon."

 

George Got The Man To Promise To Take Him, And Then He Went Back Until

He Met Edgar, To Whom He Related What He Had Heard.

 

"I'm Not Astonished," Remarked The Lad, Indicating One Of The Sleepers.

"Look At That--The Rail's Only Held Down By A Spike Or Two; We Fasten

Them In Solid Chairs.  They're Rough And Ready In This Country."

 

It Was The Characteristic Hypercritical Attitude Of The Newly-Arrived

Englishman; And George, Knowing That The Canadians Strongly Resent It,

Noticed A Look Of Interest In The Eyes Of A Girl Standing Near Them.

She Was, He Imagined, About Twenty-Four Years Of Age, And Was Dressed

In Some Thin White Material, The Narrow Skirt Scarcely Reaching To The

Tops Of Her Remarkably Neat Shoes.  Her Arms Were Uncovered To The

Elbows; Her Neck Was Bare, But This Displayed A Beautiful Skin; And The

Face Beneath The Turned-Down Brim Of The Big Hat Was Attractive.

George Thought She Was Amused At Edgar's Comment.

 

"Well," He Said, "While We Put Down A Few Miles Of Metals They'd Drive

The Track Across Leagues Of New Country And Make A Start With The

Traffic.  They Haven't Time To Be Particular, With The Great Western

Wheat-Land Waiting For Development."

 

The Girl Moved Away; And When Word Went Around That There Would Be A

Delay Of Several Hours, George Sat Down Beside The Lake And Watched The

Colonist Passengers Wash Their Children's Clothes.  It Was, He Thought,

Rather A Striking Scene--The Great Train Standing In The Rugged

Wilderness, The Wide Stretch Of Gleaming Water Running Back Among The

Firs, And The Swarm Of Jaded Immigrants Splashing Bare-Footed Along The

Beach.  Their Harsh Voices And Hoarse Laughter Broke Discordantly On

The Silence Of The Woods.

 

After A While An Elderly Man, In Badly-Fitting Clothes And An Old

Wide-Brimmed Hat, Sauntered Up With The Girl George Had Noticed, And

Stopped To Survey The Passengers.

 

"A Middling Sample; Not So Many English As Usual," He Remarked.  "If

They Keep On Coming In As They're Doing, We'll Get Harvest Hands At A

Reasonable Figure."

Volume 554 Chapter 3 (A Matter Of Duty) Pg 19

"All He Thinks About!" Edgar Commented, In A Lowered Voice.  "That's

The Uncivil Old Fellow Who Smokes The Vile Leaf Tobacco; He Drove Me

Out Of The Car Once Or Twice.  It's Hard To Believe He's Her Father;

But In Some Ways They're Alike."

 

"I Can't Help Feeling Sorry For Them," The Girl Replied.  "Look At

Those Worn-Out Women, Almost Too Limp To Move.  It's Hot And Shaky

Enough In Our Cars; The Colonist Ones Must Be Dreadful."

 

"Good Enough For The Folks Who're In Them; They're Not Fastidious,"

Said The Man.

 

They Strolled On, And George Felt Mildly Curious About Them.  The Girl

Was Pretty And Graceful, With A Stamp Of Refinement Upon Her; The Man

Was Essentially Rugged And Rather Grim.  Suddenly, However, A Whistle

Blast Rang Out, And George Hurried Toward The Engine.  It Was Beginning

To Move When He Reached It But, Grasping A Hand-Rail, He Clambered Up.

The Cab Was Already Full Of Passengers, But He Had Found A Place On The

Frame Above The Wheels When He Saw The Girl In The Light Dress Running,

Flushed And Eager, Along The Line.  Leaning Down As Far As Possible, He

Held Out His Hand To Her.

 

"Get Hold, If You Want To Come," He Called.  "There's A Step Yonder."

 

She Seized His Hand And Smiled At Him When He Drew Her Up Beside Him.

 

"Thanks," She Said.  "I Was Nearly Too Late."

 

"Perhaps We Had Better Make For The Pilot, Where There'll Be More

Room," George Suggested, As Two More Passengers Scrambled Up.

 

They Crept Forward, Holding On By The Guard-Rail, While The Great

Engine Began To Rock As It Gathered Speed.  The Girl, However, Was

Fearless, And At Length They Reached The Front, And Stood Beneath The

Big Head-Lamp With The Triangular Frame Of The Pilot Running Down To

The Rails At Their Feet.  The Ledge Along The Top Of It Was Narrow, And

When His Companion Sat Down George Felt Concerned About Her Safety.

Her Hat Had Blown Back, Setting Free Tresses Of Glossy Hair; Her Light

Skirt Fluttered Against The Sooty Pilot.

 

"You'll Have To Allow Me," He Said, Tucking The Thin Fabric Beneath Her

And Passing An Arm Around Her Waist.

 

He Thought She Bore It Well, For Her Manner Was Free From Prudish Alarm

Or Coquettish Submission.  With Sound Sense, She Had Calmly Acquiesced

In The Situation; But George Found The Latter Pleasant.  His Companion

Was Pretty, The Swift Motion Had Brought A Fine Warmth Into Her Cheeks,

And A Sparkle Into Her Eyes; And George Was Slightly Vexed When Edgar,

Appearing Round The Front Of The Engine, Unnoticed By The Girl,

Surveyed Him With A Grin.

 

"Is There Room For Me?" He Asked.  "I Had To Leave The Place Where I

Was, Because My Fellow Passengers Didn't Seem To Mind If They Pushed Me

Volume 554 Chapter 3 (A Matter Of Duty) Pg 20

Off.  A Stranger Doesn't Get Much Consideration In This Country."

 

The Girl Looked Up At Him Consideringly And Answered, Through The Roar

Of The Engine:

 

"You May Sit Here, If You'll Stop Criticizing Us."

 

"It's Quite Fair," Edgar Protested, As He Took His Place By Her Side.

"I've Been In Canada Only Three Days, But I've Several Times Heard

Myself Alluded To As An Englishman, As If That Were Some Excuse For Me."

 

"Are You Sure You Haven't Been Provoking People By Your Superior Air?"

 

"I Didn't Know I Possessed One; But I Don't See Why I Should Be Very

Humble Because I'm In Canada."

 

The Girl Laughed Good-Humoredly, And Turned To George.

 

"I'm Glad I Came.  This Is Delightful," She Said.

 

It Was, George Admitted, An Exhilarating Experience.  The Big Engine

Was Now Running At Top Speed, Rocking Down The Somewhat Roughly Laid

Line.  Banks Of Trees And Stretches Of Gleaming Water Sped Past, The

Rails Ahead Came Flying Back To Them.  The Sun Was On The Firs, And The

Wind That Lashed George's Face Was Filled With Their Fragrance.  Once

Or Twice A Tress Of His Companion's Hair Blew Across His Cheek, But She

Did Not Appear To Notice This.  He Thought She Was Conscious Of Little

Beyond The Thrill Of Speed.

 

At Length The Engine Stopped Where The Line Crossed A Lake On A High

Embankment.  A Long Row Of Freight-Cars Stood Near A Break In The Track

Into Which The Rails Ran Down, And A Faint Cloud Of Steam Rose From The

Gap.

 

George Helped The Girl Down, Anticipating Edgar, Who Seemed Anxious To

Offer His Assistance, And They Walked Forward Until They Could See Into

The Pit.  It Was Nearly Forty Feet In Depth, For The Embankment,

Softened By Heavy Rain, Had Slipped Into The Lake.  In The Bottom A

Huge Locomotive Lay Shattered And Overturned, With Half A Dozen Men

Toiling About It.  The Girl Stopped With A Little Gasp, For There Was

Something Strangely Impressive In The Sight Of The Wreck.

 

"It's Dreadful, Isn't It?" She Exclaimed.

 

Then The Men Who Had Come With Them Gathered Round.

 

"Where's The Fireman?" One Of Them Asked.  "He Was Too Late When He

Jumped.  Have They Got Him Out?"

 

"Guess Not," Said Another.  "See, They're Trying To Jack Up The Front

Of Her."

 

"Aren't You Mistaken About The Man?" George Asked, Looking At The First

Speaker Meaningly.

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"Why, No," Replied The Other.  "He's Certainly Pinned Down Among The

Wreck.  They'll Find Him Before Long.  Isn't That A Jacket Sleeve?"

 

He Broke Off With An Exclamation, As Edgar Drove An Elbow Hard Into His

Ribs; But It Was Too Late.  The Girl Looked Around At George, White In

Face.

 

"Is There A Man Beneath The Engine?  Don't Try To Put Me Off."

 

"I'm Afraid It's The Case."

 

"Then Why Did You Bring Me?" She Cried With A Shudder.  "Take Me Away

At Once!"

 

George Explained That He Had Forgotten The Serious Nature Of The

Accident.  He Hastily Helped Her Up And Turned Away With Her, But When

They Had Gone A Little Distance She Sat Down On A Boulder.

 

"I Feel Badly Startled And Ashamed," She Exclaimed.  "I Was Enjoying

It, As A Spectacle, And All The Time There Was A Man Crushed To Death."

Then She Recovered Her Composure.  "Go Back And Help.  Besides, I Think

Your Friend Is Getting Into Trouble."

 

She Was Right.  The Man Edgar Tried To Silence Had Turned Upon Him,

Savage And Rather Breathless.

 

"Now," He Said, "I'll Fix You Mighty Quick.  Think I'm Going To Have