114 THE COUNTRY BOY 



telling me to take his fine engine with John 

 Palmer, but month after month it only proved 

 to be a dream. As it was I had given up 

 hope of ever getting away from this rusty 

 old freight engine. But one day at East- 

 Side Junction, a small passing station, one 

 of the happiest days of my life overtook 

 me. Our old train was the first in and we 

 were on the siding. I was watching this fine 

 new Baldwin engine as she came rolling along 

 through Howell's Prairie. She glistened in 

 the sun like a new plug hat. When she 

 stopped I noticed Frank, the halfbreed, shake 

 hands with John Palmer, the engineer, and 

 before I could make out what was the matter 

 Frank was walking over to our engine wdth 

 some clothes under his arm and a piece of 

 yellow tissue paper in his other hand. He 

 was sullen and looked as though he were 

 more than half Indian. He handed me the 

 slip of paper and said gruffl^% "Well, you 

 wanted that engine for a long time, go and 

 take it." I read the paper which was brief, 

 but right to the point; it simply said, "Daven- 

 port, fire for Palmer on No. 8." I wTut over 

 and as I got close to the fine new locomotive 



