Brainerd grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and landed
him all in a heap in the coal. Then he climbed up on the right-hand side
of the cab and took charge of things himself. There were myriads of
tracks stretching out before him like the long arms of some giant
octopus, but all traffic was suspended on account of the strike and the
main line was clear. The train flew down the line like a scared rabbit
and in thirty minutes reached the camp at Blake Park. I had arrived
there that morning from the south for special service and when I saw
Brainerd climb down off of that engine his face was smutty, but his eyes
twinkled and he came towards me with a broad grin and said,
"Hello, Bates, where in thunder did you spring from?"
There wasn't much time for talking because the great city was groaning
beneath the grasp of anarchy, and until that power was broken, there
would be no rest for the weary.
The situation that existed at this time is too well known to require any
explanation here. The state and city authorities were powerless; the
militia inefficient and many a citizen bowed his head and thanked God on
that warm July morning for the arrival of the regulars.
Pages:
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470