I feel as if something was going to
happen, and I don't like the feeling."
I answered, "Oh! bosh, Dad. You'll feel all right in a few minutes; I
reckon you've got a good old attack of dyspepsia; brace up."
Just then the wires started up, and he gruffly told me to sit down and
go to work and our conversation ceased. That was the first time he had
ever used anything but a gentle tone to me, and I felt hurt. The first
trick is always the busiest, and under the stress of work the incident
soon passed from my mind. Pat remarked once, that the general
superintendent was going to leave Chaminade in a special at 10:30 A. M.,
on a tour of inspection over the road. That was about all the talking he
did that morning. His work was as good as ever, and in fact, he made
some of the prettiest meets that morning I had ever seen.
[Illustration: "... Half lying on the table, face downward, dead by
his own hand"]
About 10:35, I asked Borroughs to allow me to go over to the hotel to
get a cigar. I would be gone only a few minutes. He assented, and I
slipped on my overcoat and went out.
Pages:
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368