Frank L. Packard

“ He started at the bottom, and he went up. Call boy, sweeper, wiper, fireman—one after the other. Promotion came fast in the early days, for, the Rockies once bridged, business came fast, too; and Coogan had his engine at twenty-one, and at twenty-four he was pulling the Imperial Limited.
“Good goods,” said Regan. “That’s what he is. The best ever.”
Nobody questioned that, not only because there was no one on the division who could put anything over Coogan in a cab, but also because, and perhaps even more pertinent a reason, every one liked Coogan—some of them did more than that. ”

“ Carleton nodded his head slowly. Steps were coming up the stairs. The voice of Flannagan, the wrecking boss, reached them; other voices, excited and loud, joined in. He slapped the master mechanic on the back. “I don’t wonder it caught you, Tommy,” he said. “It’s almost creepy. But there’s no time for that now. Come on.”
Regan laughed, the same hard laugh, as he followed the chief into the dispatcher’s room. “East of No. 2 switchback, eh?” he said. “If there’s any choice for hellishness anywhere on that cursed stretch of track, that’s it. ”

“ I can’t talk to him, what?”
“A man’s got to work a thing like that out for himself, Tommy,” Carleton answered, “and it takes time. That’s the only thing that will ever help him—time. I know you’re pretty fond of Coogan, even more than the rest of us, and that’s saying a good deal, but you’re thinking too much about it yourself.”
Regan shook his head. “I can’t help it, Carleton. It’s got me. Time, and that sort of thing, may be all right, but it ain’t very promising when a man broods the way he does. ”

“ Do you remember that?”
“The smash was on the Devil’s Slide,” said Coogan.
“That’s it,” cried Carleton. “I knew you’d remember.”
“They’re always there,” said Coogan simply, “always there. It is a bad track. I’m a railroad man and I know. It’s not properly guarded. I’m going to work there and take care of it.”
“Work there?” said Regan, the tears almost in his eyes. “What kind of work? What do you want to do, Chick?”
“Just work there,” said Coogan. “Take care of the Devil’s Slide.”
The super and the master mechanic looked at each other—and averted their eyes. ”

“ I’d have taken the same stand you did. But you’re wrong. Coogan wasn’t drunk that night; he never touched a drop. I wouldn’t be telling you this now if he had, would I?”
“Sit down,” said Carleton.
Dahleen took the chair beside the desk, and, resting his feet on the window sill, stared out at the lights twinkling below him. “Yes, I gave him the flask,” he said slowly, as though picking up the thread of a story, “for a wedding present. The day he came back to his run after the little woman and the baby died he had it in his pocket, and he handed it to me. ‘I’m afraid of it, Jimmy,’ he said. ”

“ Regan and Carleton were alone over their pedro at headquarters, except for Spence, the dispatcher, in the next room. It was getting close on to eleven-thirty. The Imperial Limited, westbound, with Coogan in the cab, had pulled out on time an hour and a half before. The game was lagging, and, as usual, the conversation had got around to the engineer, introduced, as it always was, by the master mechanic. “I sure don’t know what to do for the boy,” he said. “I’d like to do something. Talking don’t amount to anything, does it, h’m?—even if you can talk. ”

“ And so, while Regan growled and swore, and Carleton knitted his brows in perplexed protest, the doctors had their way—and Coogan, Chick Coogan, went to the Devil’s Slide. Officially he was on the pay roll as a section hand; but Millrae, the section boss, had his own orders.
“Let Coogan alone. Let him do what he likes, only see that he doesn’t come to any harm,” wired the super. ”

“ I ain’t superstitious or anything like that, but I’ve a feeling I can’t just explain that somehow something’s going to break. Kind of premonition. Ever have anything like that? It gets on your mind and you can’t shake it off. It’s on me tonight worse than it’s ever been. ”

“ And as they worked, those hard-faced, grimy, sweating men of the wrecking crews, they wondered—wondered that any one had come out of it alive.
Back at headquarters in Big Cloud they wondered at it, too—and they wondered also at the cause. Every one that by any possible chance could throw any light upon it went on the carpet in the super’s office. Everybody testified—everybody except Dahleen, the fireman, and Coogan, the engineer ”

“ The youngest engineer on the road and top of them all, would have been excuse enough for him to show his oats, and, within decent limits, no one would have thought the worse of him for it—Coogan never turned a hair. He was still the friend of the bo and the man in trouble, still the Coogan that had been a wiper in the roundhouse; and yet, perhaps, not quite the same, for two new loves had come into his life—his love for Annie Coogan and his love, the love of the master craftsman, for No. ”

“ He was laughing that soft laugh again, kind of as though he was crooning, and he reached out his hand and pushed me away.
“‘We’re going to celebrate, Jimmy,’ says he again. ‘We’re going to celebrate. It’s my wedding night.’
“I felt the speed quicken a bit; we were on the Slide then, you know, and I saw his fingers tightening on the throttle. Then it got me, and my heart went into my mouth; Chick was clean off his head. ”