Think of a
middle-aged man going through life mixed up in that manner, having to
sit down on his stomach, and having his backbone staring him in the
face. How does he know when he takes food in his mouth that it can
corkscrew around under his arm and eventually find his stomach? How a
man can be ground and twisted, and mauled, and stamped on by a reckless
locomotive with a crazy engineer and a drunken fireman, rolled over by
box cars, and walked on by elephants, and still live, is beyond me. As
he told me before he lost the power of speech, not to be too hard on the
railroad company, though some railroads would be glad to pay him
$20,000, and no questions asked, he begged me, as heir to his estate, to
let you off for a paltry $10,000."
Pa made up the darndest face, and groaned. The agent called another
agent, and they whispered together, and finally the first one came to me
and asked pa's full name, and then the two of them got out a fountain
pen, and they made out a check, and he said: "This is the first case in
the history of railroad wrecking that the agent has not had the heart to
try to beat the injured party down. This is certainly the most pitiful
case that has ever been known, and if your father ever comes to his
senses you can tell him he is welcome to the money.
Pages:
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106