“‘I beseech you, my dear boy, to bow submissively to the will of God--and remember you can meet Lottie in Heaven if you try. You will also understand that you are not the only one who grieves for this great affliction. DODSON.’ “‘When does the train start for Memphis?’ “‘Seven o’clock in the morning,’ replied the agent. “‘Alas! that would be too late; all will be over before then,’ was my reply. “‘I believe,’ said the agent, ‘that under the circumstances the superintendent would let you have an extra train for a reasonable compensation. I will ask him by telegraph, if you wish it.’ ‘“You are very kind, sir, and I thank you; please make the request without delay. Tell the superintendent that money is no object--the value of the engine and coach is offered, and will be promptly paid if required. I beg you, sir, not to lose a moment. If you only knew how precious time is to me now, you would be in a hurry!’ “While I was urging the agent to send the message, the clicking of the instrument under his thumb and finger indicated the fact that the electric fluid was dashing the request into the office at Memphis. The dispatch was gone in three minutes. A short conversation was then commenced between the superintendent at Memphis and the agent at Grenada. As the clicking of the instrument carried the words to the ear of the operator, he conveyed them to my ear by word of mouth. “‘Is number seven there?’ inquired the superintendent. “‘Yes,’ was the operator’s reply. “‘Is she in good running order?’ “‘I will ascertain in a moment.’ “‘Go ask Mr. Steelbrim to come here quickly,’ said the operator to a little negro who was dozing near the door. “The little fellow rose up, shook himself, rubbed his eyes with his sleeve, gaped, and staggered up against the wall and said: “‘Sir!’ “The order was quickly repeated, and the boy walked leisurely away. It was but a few minutes until a little dark-haired man, with long black whiskers and large expressive eyes, entered the office. His garments were covered with grease and smut, and his hands were thrust deep down in his pockets, and a don’t-care sort of expression was visible on his face. “‘Is number seven in good running order, Mr. Steelbrim?’ inquired the operator. “‘Apple-pie, hunkadory, O. K.--no mistake. Never nothing wrong with that old gal when under my command, you bet!’ was replied by the greasy little man as he limped across the floor, for his left leg was shorter by two inches than the other. “‘How long before you can heat her up and be ready to make a quick run to Memphis, Mr. Steelbrim?’ “‘Do it in less than no time, sir; the old gal’s pretty hot now--just began to cool her off. She hain’t been in more’n ten minits; but what’s up?’ “‘An extra train to Memphis; a quick run--very important--no time to be lost--get ready immediately; take one coach and back down here, and the orders will be ready.’