Toronto by Gaslight: The Night Hawks of a Great City: As Seen by the Reporters of "The Toronto News"Toronto News
History
Toronto by Gaslight: The Night Hawks of a Great City: As Seen by the Reporters of "The Toronto News"
Toronto News
Toronto (Ont.) -- Description and travel
with a stiff in it. Come down from Winnipeg this afternoon and no one has
come around to claim it yet. There’s lots of ’em nowadays. They’re coming
an’ going all the time. We shipped one chap to San Francisco last night.
They are a horrible bother. Wonder what they want to do it for. This
stiff is bound for Milwaukee. If they had buried him here he would have
heard Gabriel blow his trumpet as plain in Toronto as he would in the
Western States. They’re a most mighty bother.”
“I should say so,” said a train hand standing near. “I’ll never forget
the experience I had with one.”
Seeing the look of interest on my face, he blew the ashes off his cigar
and continued:
“I was runnin’ on No. 4, from Hamilton through to Detroit and one dark
night they put a stiff aboard at Harrisburg. That was all right, but
when they put another aboard at Paris I felt they were givin’ it to me
too much. I was alone in the car, and tho’ I ain’t scared of ghosts and
that, yet I didn’t feel just to home. There’s no fun in ridin’ along
in the dark with a couple of stiffs, now I tell you. There I sot, and
for the life of me I couldn’t keep my eyes off them coffins. There lay
two dead men with their wooden overcoats on, and there I sot smokin’
my pipe and feelin’ ornery. Something got loose under the car, and the
knockin’ underneath sounded to me as if one of them had come to life and
was tappin’ on the lid of his coffin fur me to let him out. You needn’t
laugh, it was no joke. It was a ride I’m not going to forgit in a hurry,
either. Well, I pulled through all right, an’ run into Detroit in the
mornin’. A hearse was drawed up, but when we got the coffins out we found
that the label cards had been knocked off, and we didn’t know which was
which. We couldn’t ask the stiffs themselves, you know. One old man came
up, and with tears in his eyes said he wouldn’t like to plant anybody
in his lot but his own blood relations. Well, we opened the coffin, and
I hope I may die if it wasn’t plugged plum full of smuggled silks and
laces.”
“No stiff in it at all?”
“Stiff! naw; but the other stiff was the genuine article, and the old man
driv off after it in great shape, as happy as a clam, yes, sir.”
“Did they ever find out who smuggled the goods?”
“No; but they never tried that trick on again, that I know of.”
Here I noticed a detective sauntering up and down the platform.
“Well, John,” said I, “what’s on to-night, anything up?”
“Just wait a while and you’ll see,” with that wise and knowing air
which only a detective can assume. At that moment the headlight of the
locomotive drawing the train from Hamilton appeared at the west end of
the station, and the detective suddenly became very alert. He stood
midway on the platform, and as the train came to a standstill and the
passengers came pouring out he scanned the features of every one who
stepped upon the platform. Suddenly he made a swift little movement,
dived through the crowd, dodged round a kissing and hand-shaking group and
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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