That's why we're cuttin' out the cars one by
one." He gave a vigorous push to a west-bound car as he spoke, and
started back with a little snort of surprise, for the car was an old
friend - an M. T. K. box-car.
"Jack my drivers, but it's Homeless Kate! Why, Kate, ain't there
no gettin' you back to your friends? There's forty chasers out for
you from your road, if there's one. Who's holdin' you now?"
"Wish I knew," whimpered Homeless Kate. "I belong in Topeka, but
I've bin to Cedar Rapids; I've bin to Winnipeg; I've bin to Newport
News; I've bin all down the old Atlanta and West Point; an' I've bin
to Buffalo. Maybe I'll fetch up at Haverstraw. I've only bin out
ten months, but I'm homesick - I'm just achin' homesick."
"Try Chicago, Katie," said the switching-loco; and the battered old
car lumbered down the track, jolting: "I want to be in Kansas when
the sunflowers bloom."
"'Yard's full o' Homeless Kates an' Wanderin' Willies," he explained
to .007. "I knew an old Fitchburg flat-car out seventeen months; an'
one of ours was gone fifteen 'fore ever we got track of her. Dunno
quite how our men fix it. 'Swap around, I guess. Anyway, I've done
my duty.
Pages:
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301