CHAPTER II
THE HOLDING-UP OF OVERLAND NO. 3
On the third day a despatch came from Frederic Cullen telling his
father he would join us at Lamy on No. 8 that evening. I at once
ordered 97 and 218 coupled to the connecting train, and in an hour we
were back on the main line. While waiting for the overland to arrive,
Mr. Cullen asked me to do something which, as it later proved to have
considerable bearing on the events of that night, is worth mentioning,
trivial as it seems. When I had first joined the party, I had given
orders for 97 to be kicked in between the main string and their
special, so as not to deprive the occupants of 218 of the view from
their observation saloon and balcony platform. Mr. Cullen came to me
now and asked me to reverse the arrangement and make my car the tail
end. I was giving orders for the splitting and kicking in when No. 3
arrived, and thus did not see the greeting of Frederic Cullen and his
family. When I joined them, his father told me that the high altitude
had knocked his son up so, that he had to be helped from the ordinary
sleeper to the special and had gone to bed immediately. Out West we
have to know something of medicine, and my car had its chest of drugs:
so I took some tablets and went into his state-room. Frederic was like
his brother in appearance, though not in manner, having a quick, alert
way. He was breathing with such difficulty that I was almost tempted
to give him nitroglycerin, instead of strychnine, but he said he would
be all right as soon as he became accustomed to the rarefied air,
quite pooh-poohing my suggestion that he take No.
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