On the ground where the train had fallen was another official of the road. His work was to superintend those who were gathering relics. This position was a tedious, a difficult, and in many respects a thankless one. With hands, and feet, and rakes, and hoes, and in various ways, the precious relics were fished from out the stream. Everything was preserved. Bits of rags, and pieces of jewelry; shreds of clothing and gold watches; a worthless strap or a diamond pin; anything and everything which gave trace of the passengers, were gathered and placed in the hands of Mr. Stager and then deposited in the morgue. With all the suspicion and all the rumors, the public became at last satisfied that the authorities were doing all they could to gather relics for the friends, and that the traces of the dead were not intentionally destroyed. They were all railroad men who were engaged in this work. These tasks were performed by humane men, under the shadow of the public doubt and public grief, amid which, there was excitement, and the haste of business and the burden of care. Yet there were humane hearts underneath all this machinery of life. The employees of the road were, many of them, melted to tears. Every one was subdued by the sudden death. Even the hardness produced by their public life was softened by the common sorrow. The tide of human sympathy burst through even the most rocky hearts and overflowed all other feelings. In the crowded office in the station house, the telegraph was constantly at work. Its click and buzz was heard as it talked with lightning tongues, and reported the wide-spread grief, and responded with short and comprehensive words. It seemed as if all the nation had been touched. Those nerves of wire penetrated the remotest fibres of the nation’s heart, and they seemed to be singing with intensest pain. The arrow which had shot its pang into so many hearts had left the bowstring whizzing in the hand. The griefs of many, many homes were expressed by those very sounds. Hour after hour the messages would come and go, and every word was fraught with intensest feeling. The division-superintendent sat at the table amid the representatives of the press, and the friends who crowded to the desk without, and it seemed as if the silent man had his hand upon the heart-strings of the land. How any one could endure the strain of such a place and not falter at his task, was a mystery to many. Only those who are accustomed to the position where so many human lives are under their constant care could bear this crushing weight. The noble man who came down upon the train and went out upon the bridge, of which, as engineer, he had the charge, is said to have wept like a child as he saw the sight. That stern, care-worn face expressed more than many knew.