. Railway and locomotive engineering : a practical journal of railway motive power and rolling stock . a dense roll of black smoke appeared,and ascended straight upward to lose it-self in the blue of the sky, and an angryglare of flame leaped upward beneath Apaches were coming in a whirl-wind of death and destruction. A Dios, they are but little more thanthree leagues away! groaned Don En-rique. What shall we do? No need for worry, senor, retortedEvans, who was sitting with one ear overhis telegraph instruments: and with exas- The cloud of dust kept rolling nearer,and a group
. Railway and locomotive engineering : a practical journal of railway motive power and rolling stock . a dense roll of black smoke appeared,and ascended straight upward to lose it-self in the blue of the sky, and an angryglare of flame leaped upward beneath Apaches were coming in a whirl-wind of death and destruction. A Dios, they are but little more thanthree leagues away! groaned Don En-rique. What shall we do? No need for worry, senor, retortedEvans, who was sitting with one ear overhis telegraph instruments: and with exas- The cloud of dust kept rolling nearer,and a group of tiny black specks came intoview at its base—specks that increasedin number with every moment, and thatgrew larger, took form, and became gal-loping Apaches. Nearer, nearer theycame, and the sobbing, praying, hystericalMexicans relinquished all hope of mor-tal aid; but not so with Evans. Leaningfar out of his window, he was watchingthe track, and, presently, far away wherethe two lines of gleaming rails seemedto unite in one, he caught sight of anotherspeck—a speck that was sending aloft a. HALF-DOME—YOSEMITE VALLEY. perating coolness he struck a match andlit his pipe. No need for worry? gasped Don En-rique. Great God, man, thou art crazedwith fear! But Evans did not reply, did not hear;he was entirely absorbed by what the tel-egraph was saying. Presently a look ofsatisfaction shone in his face, and he madea hasty mental calculation: Indians tenmiles away, an comin ten miles an hour;soldiers sixty miles away, an CussinJimmy Johnson a-pullin em; result, someIndians to bury in bout an hour if Jim-my stays on th rails—hot times for usif he dont. plume of inky-black smoke. Firemansworkin like th devil, he mused, anJim-mys got her wide open, comin down aone-per-cent. grade, too. Aint he abird? Now he looked at the Indians,and a look of concern stole into his were getting dangerously near. Go-ing to his desk, he took out and cockedhis revolver. It held six loads,
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectrailroa, bookyear1901
