Ah there

"Ah there, my beauty! any room for dead-heads to-night?"
Patsy turned to his questioner, closed his train-book and held out his hand: "Always room for the Irish; where are you tagged for?"
"The junction."
"But we don't stop there."
"I know,Link, but I thought Moran might slow her down to about twenty posts, and I can fall off--I missed the local."
"I've got a new man," said Patsy, "and he'll be a bit nervous to-night, but if we hit the top of Zero Hill on the dot we'll let you off; if not, we'll carry you through, and you can come back on No. 4."
"Thank you," said the Philosopher, "but I'm sorry to trouble you."
"And I don't intend you shall; just step back to the outside gate and flag Mr. and Mrs. Moran, and don't let him buy a ticket for the sleeper; I've got passes for him right through to the coast."
As the Philosopher went back to "flag," Patsy went forward to the engine. "If you hit Zero Junction on time, Guerin, I wish you'd slow down and let the agent off," said the conductor.
"And if I'm late?"
"Don't stop,fake uggs."
"Well," said the young driver, "we'll not be apt to stop, for it's a wild night,cheap jeremy scott adidas, Patsy; a slippery rail and almost a head wind."
"Nothing short of a blizzard can check Blackwings," said Patsy, going to the rear.
The day coaches were already well filled, and the sleeping-car conductors were busy putting their people away when the Philosopher came down the platform accompanied by the veteran engineer, his pretty wife, and her bright little girl. Mrs. Moran and her daughter entered the sleeper, while her husband and the station master remained outside to finish their cigars.
"What a magnificent train," observed the old engineer,jeremy scott adidas wings, as the two men stood looking at the Limited.
"Finest in all the West," the Philosopher replied. "Open from the tank to the tail-lamps: all ablaze with electric lights; just like the Atlantic liners we read about in the magazines. Ever been on one of those big steamers, Dan?"
"No, and I never want to be. Never get me out o' sight o' land. Then they're too blamed slow; draggin' along in the darkness, eighteen and twenty miles an hour, and nowhere to jump."
"And yet they say we kill more people than they do."
"I know they say so," said the engineer, "but they kill 'em so everlastingly dead. A man smashed up in a wreck on the road may recover, but a man drowned a thousand miles from anywhere has no show."
Patsy, coming from the station, joined the two dead-heads, and Moran, glancing at his watch, asked the cause of delay.
"Waiting for a party of English tourists," said Patsy; "they're coming over the Grand Trunk, and the storm has delayed them."
"And that same storm will delay you to-night, my boy, if I'm any guesser," observed the old engineer. "I'd go over and ride with Guerin, but I'm afraid he wouldn't take it well. That engine is as quick as chain-lightning, and with a greasy rail like this she'll slip going down hill, and the more throttle he gives her the slower she'll go. And what's more, she'll do it so smoothly, that, blinded by the storm, he'll never know she's slipping till she tears her fire all out and comes to a dead stall."