"You ought to seen 'em start out, nary a slip, cutting off square as a die, small one ahead speaking her little piece chipper and fast on account of her smaller wheels, and the ten-wheeler barking bass, steady as a clock, with a hundred-and-enough on the gauge, a full throttle, and half a pipe of sand. You couldn't tell to save you whether the little one was pulling the big one or the big one shoving the little--never saw a relief train start out in such shape in my life." Gunderson was evidently enthusiastic over the marriage of his little girl. We talked over old times and the changes, and followed each other up to date with a great deal of mutual enjoyment, until the porter demanded the "smokery" for his bunk. As we started for bed, Gun laid his hand on my shoulder and said: "John, a good many years ago, you asked me to tell you the story of my little girl. I refused then for her sake. I'll tell you in the morning." After a hearty breakfast and a good cigar, Gunderson squared himself for the story. He shut his eyes for a few minutes, as if to recall something, and then, speaking as if to himself, he said: "Well, sir, there wasn't a simmer anywhere, dampers all shut; you wouldn't'a suspected they was up to the popping point, but the minute they got their orders, and the con. put up his hand, so, up went--" "Say," I interrupted, "I thought I was to have the story. I believe you told me about the wedding, last night. The young couple started out well." "Oh, yes, old man, I forgot, the story; well, get on the next pit here," motioning to a seat next to him, "and I'll give you the history of an old, hook-motion, name of Oscar Gunderson, and a trim, Class "G" made of solid silver, from pilot to draft-gear. "You think I'm a Swede; well, I ain't, I don't know what I am, but I guess I come nearer to being a Chinaman than anything else. My father was a sea-captain, and my mother found me on the China sea--but they were both Swedes just the same. I had two sisters older than myself, and in order to better our chances, father moved to New York when I was less than five years old. "He soon secured work as captain on a steamer in the Cuban trade, and died at sea, when I was ten. "I had a bent for machinery, and tried the old machine-shops of the Central road, but soon found myself firing. "I went to California, shortly after the war, on account of a woman--mostly my fault. "Well, after running around there for some years, I struck a job on the Virginia & Truckee, in '73. "Virginia City and Carson and all the Nevada towns were doing a fall-rush business, turning every wheel they had, with three crews to a mill. Why, if you'd go down street in any one of them towns at night, and see the crowds around the gamblers and molls, you'd think hell was a-coming forty-mile an hour, and that it wan't more than a car-length away.