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Read books online » Fiction » Steve and the Steam Engine by Sara Ware Bassett (best book club books for discussion .txt) 📖

Book online «Steve and the Steam Engine by Sara Ware Bassett (best book club books for discussion .txt) 📖». Author Sara Ware Bassett



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unwillingly from his chair. "You will be busy and forget all about it and—"

"I have nothing to do until eleven o'clock," interrupted Mr. Tolman, "when I have a business meeting to attend. Up to that time I shall be free. And as for forgetting it—well, you might possibly remind me if the promise passes out of my mind."

In spite of himself the boy grinned.

"You can bank on my reminding you all right!" he said, yawning.

"Very well. Then it is a bargain. You do the reminding and I will do the story-telling. Are you satisfied and ready to go to bed and to sleep now?"

"I guess so, yes."

"Good-night then."

"Good-night, Dad. I—I've had a bully day."

CHAPTER XI THE CROSSING OF THE COUNTRY

In spite of the many excitements crowded into his first day in New York Stephen found that when his head actually touched the pillow sleep was not long in coming and he awoke the next morning refreshed by a heavy and dreamless slumber. He was even dressed and ready for breakfast before his father and a-tiptoe to attack whatever program the day might present.

Fortunately Mr. Tolman was of a sufficiently sympathetic nature to remember how he had felt when a boy, and with generous appreciation for the lad's impatience he scrambled up and made himself ready for a breakfast that was earlier, perhaps, than he would have preferred.

"Well, son," said he, as they took their places in the large dining room, "what is the prospect for to-day? Are you feeling fit for more adventures?"

"I'm primed for whatever comes," smiled the boy.

"That's the proper spirit! Indians, bandits and cowboys did not haunt your pillow then."

"I didn't stay awake to see."

"You are a model traveler! Now we must plan something pleasant for you to do to-day. I am not sure that we can keep up the pace yesterday set us, for it was a pretty thrilling one. Robberies and arrests do not come every day, to say nothing of flotillas of ships and Wild West shows. However, we will do the best we can not to let the day go stale by contrast. But first I must dictate a few letters and glance over the morning paper. This won't take me long and while I am doing it I would suggest that you go into the writing room and send a letter to your mother. I will join you there in half an hour and we will do whatever you like before I go to my meeting. How is that?"

"Righto!"

Accordingly, after breakfast was finished, Steve wandered off by himself in search of paper and ink, and so sumptuous did he find the writing appointments that he not only dashed off a letter to his mother recounting some of the happenings of the previous day, but on discovering a rack of post cards he mailed to Jack Curtis, Tim Barclay, Bud Taylor and some of the other boys patronizing messages informing them that New York was "great" and he was sorry they were not there. In fact, it seemed at the moment that all those unfortunate persons who could not visit this magic city were to be profoundly pitied.

In the purchase of stamps for these egoistic missives the remainder of the time passed, and before he realized the half-hour was gone, he saw his father standing in the doorway.

"I am going up to the room now to hunt up some cigars, Steve," announced the elder man. "Do you want to come along or stay here?"

"I'll come with you, Dad," was the quick reply.

The elevator shot them to the ninth floor in no time and soon they were in their room looking down on the turmoil in the street below.

"Some city, isn't it?" commented Mr. Tolman, turning away from the busy scene to rummage through his suit case.

"It's a corker!"

"I thought you would like to go out to the Zoo this morning while I am busy. What do you say?"

"That would be bully."

"It is a simple trip which you can easily make alone. If you like, you can start along now," Mr. Tolman suggested.

"But you said last night that if I would hurry to bed, to-day you would tell me about the Western railroads," objected Stephen.

He saw his father's eyes twinkle.

"You have a remarkable memory," replied he. "I recall now that I did say something of the sort. But surely you do not mean that you would prefer to remain here and talk railroads than to go to the Zoo."

"I can go to the Zoo after you have gone out," maintained Steve, standing his ground valiantly.

"You are a merciless young beggar," grinned his father. "I plainly see that like Shylock you are determined to have your pound of flesh. Well, sit down. We will talk while I smoke."

As the boy settled contentedly into one of the comfortable chintz-covered chairs, Mr. Tolman blew a series of delicate rings of smoke toward the ceiling and wrinkled his brow thoughtfully.

"You got a pretty good idea at the theater last night what America was before we had trans-continental railroads," began he slowly. "You know enough of geography too, I hope, to imagine to some extent what it must have meant to hew a path across such an immense country as ours; lay a roadbed with its wooden ties; and transport all this material as well as the heavy rails necessary for the project. We all think we can picture to ourselves the enormity of the undertaking; but actually we have almost no conception of the difficulties such a mammoth work represented."

He paused, half closing his eyes amid the cloud of smoke.

"To begin with, the promoters of the enterprise received scant encouragement to attack the problem, for few persons of that day had much faith in the undertaking. In place of help, ridicule cropped up from many sources. It was absurd, the public said, to expect such a wild-cat scheme to succeed. Why, over six hundred miles of the area to be covered did not contain a tree and in consequence there would be nothing from which to make cross-ties. And where was the workmen's food to come from if they were plunged into a wilderness beyond the reach of civilization? The thing couldn't be done. It was impossible. Of course it was a wonderful idea. But it never could be carried out. Where were the men to be found who would be willing to take their lives in their hands and set forth to work where Indians or wild beasts were liable to devour them at any moment? Moreover, to build a railroad of such length would take a lifetime and where was the money coming from? For you must remember that the men of that period had no such vast fortunes as many of them have now, and it was no easy task to finance a scheme where the outlay was so tremendous and the probability of success so shadowy. Even as late as 1856 the whole notion was considered visionary by the greater part of the populace."

"But the fun of doing it, Dad!" ejaculated Stephen, with sparkling eyes.

"The fun of it!" repeated his father with a shrug. "Yes, there was fun in the adventure, there is no denying that; and fortunately for the dreamers who saw the vision, men were found who felt precisely as you do. Youth always puts romance above danger, and had there not been these romance lovers it would have gone hard with the trans-continental railroads. We might never have had them. As it was, even the men who ventured to cast in their lot with the promoters had the caution to demand their pay in advance. They had no mind to be deluded into working for a precarious wage. At length enough toilers from the east and from the west were found who were willing to take a chance with their physical safety, and the enterprise was begun."

Stephen straightened up in his chair.

"Had the only obstacle confronting them been the reach of uncharted country ahead that would have been discouraging enough. Fancy pushing your way through eight hundred miles of territory that had never been touched by civilization! And while you are imagining that, do not forget that the slender ribbon of track left behind was your only link with home; and your only hope of getting food, materials, and sometimes water. Ah, you would have had excitement enough to satisfy you had you been one of that company of workmen! On improvised trucks they put up bunks and here they took turns in sleeping while some of their party stood guard to warn them of night raids from Indians and wild beasts. Even in the daytime outposts had to be stationed; and more than once, in spite of every precaution, savages descended on the little groups of builders, overpowered them, and slaughtered many of the number or carried away their provisions and left them to starve. Sometimes marauders tore up the tracks, thereby breaking the connection with the camps in the rear from which aid could be summoned; and in early railroad literature we find many a tale of heroic engineers who ran their locomotives back through almost certain destruction in order to procure help for their comrades. Supply trains were held up and swept clean of their stores; paymasters were robbed, and sometimes murdered, so no money reached the employees; every sort of calamity befell the men. Hundreds of the ten thousand Chinese imported to work at a microscopic wage died of sickness or exposure to the extreme heat or cold."

"Gee!" gasped Stephen, "I'd no idea it was so bad as all that!"

"Most persons have but a faint conception of the price paid for our railways—paid not alone in money but in human life," answered Mr. Tolman. "The route of the western railroads, you see, did not lie solely through flat, thickly wooded country. Our great land, you must remember, is made up of a variety of natural formations, and in crossing from the Atlantic coast to that of the Pacific we get them one after another. In contrast to the forests of mighty trees, with their tangled undergrowth, there were stretches of prairie where no hills broke the level ground; another region contained miles and miles of alkali desert, dry and scorching, where the sun blazed so fiercely down on the steel rails that they became too hot to touch. Here men died of sunstroke and of fever; and some died for want of water. Then directly in the railroad's path arose the towering peaks of the Sierras and Rockies whose snowy crests must be crossed, and whose cold, storms and gales must be endured. Battling with these hardships the workmen were forced to drill holes in the rocky summits and bolt their rough huts down to the earth to prevent them from being blown away."

"I don't see how the thing could have been done!" Steve exclaimed, with growing wonder.

"And you must not forget to add to the chapter of tribulations the rivers that barred the way; the ravines that must either be filled in or bridged; the rocks that had to be blasted out; and the mountains that must be climbed or tunneled."

"I don't see how they ever turned the trick!" the boy repeated.

"It is the same old tale of progress," mused his father. "Over and over again, since time began, men have given their lives that the world might move forward and you and I enjoy the benefits of civilization. Remember it and be grateful to the past and to that vast army of toilers who offered up their all that you might, without effort, profit by the things it took their blood to procure. There is scarcely a comfort you have about you that has not cost myriad men labor, weariness, and perhaps life itself. Therefore value highly your heritage and treat the fruits of all hard work with respect; and whenever you can fit your own small stone into the structure, or advance any good thing that shall smooth the path of those who are to follow you, do it as your sacred duty to those who have so unselfishly builded for you."

There was a moment of silence and the rumble of the busy street rose to their ears.

"I never shall build anything that will help the men of the future," observed Stephen, in a low tone.

"Every human being is building all the time," replied his father. "He is building a strong body that shall mean a better race; a clean mind that shall mean a purer

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