Part 32 (1/2)
”Jimmie, what's the swash we hear?” I asked.
He got out of bed, limped over to the window, opened the blinds, looked a minute and then yelled:
”Good Lord! the whole town is under water, and we are floating.”
It needed but a glance to convince me that he spoke part truth. There we were surrounded on all sides by water, but the house was still on its foundation.
”Water, water, everywhere Nor any drop to drink.”
On account of the sandy nature of the soil on Galveston Island, most of the houses were built up on piles, and the water was gently slopping all over the first floor of our habitation. The streets were flowing waist high, and filled with floating debris of all kinds;--beer kegs, boards, doors, and tables _ad lib_. The wind soon began to quiet down, and when our first fright was over we had a high old time swimming and splas.h.i.+ng around in the water. It's a great city that will bring salt water bathing right up to the doors of its houses.
After a very skimpy breakfast, four of us made a raft, and paddled and pushed it down to the office. Nary a wire was there in working order.
You see, Galveston is on a very flat island scarcely one mile wide, and the only approach at this time was a low railroad bridge, three miles long. Our wires were strung along the side of that, and at five o'clock in the morning, every wire was under water, and the force on duty either swam home or slept on the floor.
That day was about the easiest I ever spent in a telegraph office. There was a Mexican cable from Galveston to Vera Cruz, but the flood had washed away their terminals, and for that day, Galveston was entirely isolated from the world.
Houston, fifty-five miles north, was the first big town adjacent, and as all our wires ran through there, it was apparent they were having a hot time doing the relaying all day. They had only a small force, and evidently the business was delayed. The storm had finally blown itself out, and at four o'clock Clarke called for volunteers to go to Houston to help out until our wires came in shape again. The G. H. & H. railroad people said they thought the water was low enough to permit an engine to cross the bridge, and in response to Clarke's call eight of us volunteered to attempt the trip. After reaching the mainland we would be all right, but there was that confounded three mile bridge to cross. We boarded engine 341, with Dad Duffy at the throttle, and at four-fifteen he pulled out. Water was still over the track and we proceeded at a snail-like pace. Just at the edge of the bridge we stopped; Dad looked over the situation and said:
”The water is within two inches of the fire-box now, and it's doubtful if we can get across, but here goes and G.o.d save us all.”
The sensation when we first struck that bridge and realized that we were literally on a water support, was anything but pleasant, and I reckon most of us uttered the first prayer in many a day. Slowly we crept along, and just as we were in the middle of the structure the draw sagged a little, and _kersplas.h.!.+_ out went the fire. A great cloud of steam arose and floated away on the evening air, and then, there stood that iron monster as helpless as a babe. Dad looked around at us eight birds perched up on the tender and said:
”Well I reckon you fellers won't pound any bra.s.s in Houston to-night.”
Pleasant fix to be in, wasn't it? A mile and a half from land, perched up on a dead engine, surrounded on all sides by water, and no chance to get away. There was no absolute danger, because the underpinning was firm enough, but all the same, every man jack of us wished he hadn't come. Night, black and dreary, settled over the waters, and still no help. Finally, at eight o'clock, the water had receded so that the tops of the rails could be seen, and two of us volunteered to go back on foot to the yard office for help. That was just three miles away, but nothing venture, nothing have, so we dropped off the hind end of the tender and started on our tramp back over the water-covered ties. We had one lantern, and after we had gone about a half of a mile, my companion who was ahead, slipped and nearly fell. I caught him but good-bye to the lantern, and the rest of the trip was made in utter darkness. To be brief, after struggling for two hours and a half, we reached the yard office, and an engine was sent out to help us. At twelve o'clock the whole gang were back in the city, wet, weary and worn out.
The next day the water had entirely subsided and work was resumed. We learned then of the horror of the flood. Sabine Pa.s.s had been completely submerged, and some hundred and fifty or two hundred people drowned. Indianola had been wiped out of existence, and the whole coast lined with the wreckage of s.h.i.+ps. That there were no casualties in Galveston, was providential, and due, doubtless, to the fact that the whole country for fifty miles back of it is as flat as a pan-cake, and the water had room to spread.
I worked there until spring and then a longing for my first love, the railroad, came over me and I gave up my place and bade good-bye to the commercial business forever. I had had my fling at it and was satisfied.
CHAPTER XIII
SENDING MY FIRST ORDER
I had now been knocking about the country for quite a few years, and working in all kinds of offices and places, and had acquired a great deal of experience and valuable information, so I reached the conclusion that it was about time for me to settle down and get something that would last me for a while. Commercial work I did not care for, nor did I want to go back on the road as a night operator on a small salary. I thought I had the making of a good despatcher in me, and determined to try for that place. I knew it had to be attained by starting first at the bottom, so I went up on the K. M. & O. and secured a position as night operator at Vining. The K. M. & O. was a main trunk line running out of Chaminade, and was the best road for business that I had as yet struck. Vining was midway on the division, and was such a good old town that I would have been content to have stayed there for some time, but one day an engine pulling a through livestock express broke a driving rod while running like lightning, and the result was a smash up of the first water--engine in the ditch, cars piled all over her, livestock mashed up, engineer killed, fireman badly hurt, and the road blocked for twenty-four hours. The wreck occurred on a curve going down a rather steep grade, so that it was impossible to build a temporary track around it. A wrecking train was sent out from El Monte, and as I happened to be off duty, I was picked up and taken along, to cut in the wrecking office. The division superintendent came out to hurry up things and he appeared so pleased at my work that, in a few weeks, he offered me a place as copy operator in the despatcher's office at El Monte. This appeared to be a great chance to satisfy my ambition to become a despatcher, so I gladly accepted, and in a few days was safely ensconced in my new position. The despatchers only work eight hours a day, while the copy operators work twelve, so they work with two despatchers every day. I had the day end of the job and worked from eight A. M. until eight P. M., with an hour off for dinner, so that I really was only on duty for eleven hours. The pay was good for me, seventy dollars per month, and I was thoroughly satisfied. Really all that is necessary to be a first cla.s.s copy operator is to be an expert telegrapher. It is simply a work of sending and receiving messages all day. However I wanted to learn, so I kept my ears and eyes opened, and studied the time card, train sheet, and order book very a.s.siduously.
The first trick despatcher was honest old Patrick J. Borroughs, a man of twenty-five years' experience in the business and as good a man as ever sent an order or took an O. S. report. He was kindness and gentleness personified, and a.s.sisted me in every way possible, and all my future success was due to his help and teaching. The memory of the time I worked under him is the brightest spot in all the years I served in the business. After I had been there for about five months, he would allow me, under his supervision, to make simple meeting points for two trains, and one day he allowed me to give a right-of-track order to a through freight train over a delayed pa.s.senger. Then he would let me sit around in his chair, while he swallowed his lunch, and copy the O. S. reports.
I was beginning to think that my education as a despatcher was complete, and was thinking of asking for the next vacancy, when a little incident occurred that entirely disabused my mind. The following occurrence will show how little I knew about the business.
We had received notice one morning of a special train to be run over our division that afternoon, carrying a Congressional Railroad Committee, and of course that meant a special schedule, and you all know how anxious the roads are to please railroad committees, especially when they are on investigating tours (?) with reference to the extension of the Inter-State Commerce Act, as this one was. We were told to ”whoop her through.” The track on our division was the best on the whole road, and it was only 102 miles long; we had plenty of sidings and pa.s.sing tracks, and besides old ”Jimmie” Hayes, with engine 444 was in, so they could be a.s.sured of a run that was a hummer. Mr. Hebron, the division superintendent, came in the office and told Borroughs to tear things loose, in fact, as he said, ”Make 'em all car sick.”
After he had gone out Pat tossed the notification over to me, and said, ”Bates, here's a chance for you to show what kind of stuff you are made of. Make out a schedule for this special, giving her a clean sweep from end to end, with the exception of No. 21.”
Proud! That wasn't the proper name for it. I was fully determined that _this_ special should have a run for her money if she ran on my schedule. No Congressional Committee was going back to Was.h.i.+ngton with the idea that the K. M. & O. wasn't the swiftest road in the bunch, if I could help it, and I had a big idea that I could. Pat told me he would do the copying while I made the schedule, but as he said it I fancied I saw a merry twinkle in his honest blue eyes. I wasn't daunted though, and started to work.
”Order No. 34.