Marceline Georgia, October 1879
The frightened cocker spaniel pressed
her back against the rough wooden fence that blocked the alleyway.
Her heart hammered into her chest, which was rapidly rising and
falling as she felt adrenaline serge through her body. The silver set
of handcuffs hung limply from her right wrist, swinging back and
forth in motion from her failed previous attempt to climb the fence.
All which that accomplished was a great rip in her skirt. She wanted
to curl into a ball and vanish into the earth. She had never been in
this area of town. Far into the industrial blocks beyond the
trainyard. Brick dirty walls towered over her on each side of the
dank alley, and if it wasn't for the handful of barrels and creates
that stood in neat piles awaiting delivery, she would have assumed it
was abandoned. The narrow size of the ally made the approaching gang
of ruffians all the more threatening as the marched in side by side
in the shadows.
“Hey there sweetheart,” The big
thug said as he approached, stepping through the entrance of the
alley. He and his two companions leered as they came closer to the
frightened young woman. “We an't gonna hurt chu. Much...wasit
again? Lady?” a rough chortle “What a nice name for such a
delicate thing.”
The tan furred spaniel was too
frightened for words. Her eyes darted around as she looked for a way
out. Suddenly, a shrill whistle pierced her ears. The thugs looked
over their shoulders as a young railroad mutt called to their
attention. He stood with a scowl across his maw in the bright light
at the entrance behind them, a brakeman's club clutched in one hand.
No doubt he had seen her being pursued across the trainyard before
she ran into this alley. The three thugs turned around, eyes narrowed
and canine ears flat against their heads. Their hands balling into
fists, threatening.
The fight was quick and surprisingly
one sided. The cocker watched, mouth agog and eyes the size of dinner
plates as the three ratted mongrels charged the railroad dog. With
one good swing and a sickening crack, he took out his first assailant
with the brake-club. There was a tangle of limbs, the grunt of a
punch finding a stomach, and a hiss as the railroader received a
knock to the shoulder. A barrel was knocked over and rolled across
the alleyway. Another swing of the brake-club, and the other two
thugs decided that whatever Lady was worth, it wasn't enough to end
up with a cracked skull.
The mutt chased all three of them, two
holding busted shoulders and one with a hand over his head, to the
entrance of the ally. Then stopped as they vanished into the dust,
with only a cocked muzzle and a satisfied snort given to them.
Turning back to her, she realized that she recognized him as the same
railroader who she had seen giving a smile and wave when she watched
trains at the depot. She kept her back pressed against the wooden
boards, unable to stop shaking. Her heart continued to hammer in her
chest as her adrenaline slowly began to come down. He began to slowly
approach her. Stopping only to retrieve a flatcap that had been
knocked off his head in the struggle. His stocky tail fluttering.
“Hey, Pidge what are you doing on
this side of the tracks?”
The spaniel looked up at her savor,
unable to hold back the moisture gathering in the corner of her eyes.
He stopped a few feet ahead of her, leaning the brake-club against
the brick wall. His light gray fur was disheveled from the fight, and
she could see now that he had gained a bruised eye in her defense. He
cocked his head, looking her over, and placed his hands on his hips
before a crooked smile split his handsome muzzle. She could see his
eyes landing on the shackles that hung from one delicate wrist.
“Please, stay back!” She barked,
holding a hand out in front of her, the one which didn't have a set
of handcuffs dangling from them.
“No worries. No worries” He
repeated, holding up both of his hands for her to see, before padding
down his railroad overalls. Showing her that he carried no weapons
other then the hickory stick that was now laying against the brick
wall.
“No, don't come any closer!” Her
voice went up in pitch, and his smile faded as he stopped walking. He
raised his hands to show her he meant no harm. However, the fear and
adrenaline from her recent encounter meant she was not taking any
chances. “Stay away from me!”
“It's alright, they're gone. You're
perfectly safe.” His voice was kind, soothing. “What are you
doing here?”
Lady's eyes darted around the
alleyway, looking for a quick escape. However, her vision began to
blur as tears started to flow.
“I...I don't know,” she stammered,
her will not to cry slowly disintegrating. One of her hands numbly
rose to clutch and pull at an ear nervously. “It all went so wrong
so quickly. I just had to run.”
A genuine look of concern crossed the
mutt's face. He brushed a little bit of dust off his shoulder before
reaching into his coverall pocket. Lady pressed herself even closer
to the fence, recoiling as he reached into the pocket. Just because
she had met him briefly once before, and seen him on his trains, did
not mean she could trust him anymore then those bums who just tried
to harm her. Her flinch did not go unnoticed, and as he produced a
white handkerchief and handed it to her she started openly sobbing.
She wanted to be at her home, wanted her parents to be there. How had
things gone so wrong so quickly after they had left? One second she
was looking over their newborn, her step brother, the next...
“Easy there Pidgin. That's some
waterworks,” Though his words may have been playful, his eyes were
deadly serous. “What happened?”
The spaniel slid down the fence,
crumbling to her knees. The rough cobblestone that made up the floor
of the alley was damp from a recent rainstorm. She kept crying and
replied numbly; “I ran into them, and they grabbed me and when I
got away they started chasing-”
“No, I mean...that.” He
interrupted before pointing to the handcuffs. She looked up, suddenly
feeling the urge the hide the shackles behind her back. He repeated;
“What happened?”
She reached with her free hand and
grabbed the handcuff, feeling a shudder roll through her. It was as
if they were a tattoo that tainted her pristine female body. A mark
of delinquency proclaiming her to be as Aunt Sara had proclaimed upon
their initial placement, a criminal. Lady let out a hard shudder as
she imagined the old battleship's angry stare, and the smug smiles of
her two children, and it made her feel ill. Burying her face into her
knees, hiding among the long red fur of her ears, she sobbed anew.
She had worked so hard, going from a foster child to an adopted
daughter. It just wasn't fair. She knew that no matter what, Aunt
Sara's voice would be heard before her's. She couldn't bare the
thought of Jim and Darling being told what a bad girl she was, and
how they had made such a mistake in adopting her. Regardless if they
believed Aunt Sara's twisted and altered version of the events or
not, it was going to be a challenge to explain.
On top of that, having to run from the
police! Sara had called the constable and she had been arrested! No
doubt there was a warrant for her now. Having to run from then, she
had nearly been hit by multiple carriages and a streetcar. Then, to
run into those thugs! She had only gotten away from them unscathed
because she had run into, by sheer coincidence no less, into the one
railroad mutt who not only would recognize her, but had the courage
to help. It was just too much to handle. Shuddering as she worked to
swallow the last of her weeping, Lady looked up through her own
cocker ears at the mutt. Oh, what he must be thinking of her! Sobbing
like a child after having lifted not one finger to protect herself.
So pathetic.
“Ah, you poor kid,” he said
gently. “Take your time. There is no hurry.”
Surprised, Lady swallowed another sob
that threatened to escape her. Sniffing, she pushed her ears away
from her face. For the first time, she looked at him thoroughly. He
stood frozen in his position after her delirious request, hands at
his hips with the thumbs in his pockets. The look he wore was of
complete concern, as if Lady was made of glass and could shatter at
any moment. Taking a deep breath, she started to pull herself
together. She was a proper young woman, who was trained to have
manors, despite the less then desirable situation.
“I'm sorry I yelled at you.” She
began, wiping away her tears with her sleeve before running her hands
down her muzzle in an attempt to smooth out the ruined fur. Slowly,
she began to rise to her feet. “I was just scared, I've never
been...in a situation like that.”
She closed her eyes and shook
unsteadily, still recovering from her collapse. Opening them again,
she looked over and saw a gray hand held out to assist. Gingerly, she
placed her own into it, and allowed him to help her stand. Her
fingers seemed so delicate against his palm.
“Don't worry about it. Those morons
like to hang around the railroad yard. Always trying to steal things
from railcars sitting in the sidings. They talk the big talk, but as
soon as a bunch of us railroad men show up they turn tail. Dumb too,”
He chuckled, the corners of his mouth turning up in a charming smile.
“As soon as I showed them the one-two, they faded like the cops
were after them. If anything, I expect the yardlets to be pleased to
hear one of us finally got to hit them with a club.”
Lady ran her hands through her ears,
attempting to smooth out the fur. “But I don't understand. Is that
why you came to help?”
The mongrel shrugged, Lady noting how
his shoulders drop significantly. “Well, who knows what others out
there would do to such a beautiful and classy girl such as yourself.
Besides, I'm on switching duty. Saving some damsels just helps to
lighten the mood.” His eyebrows arched in good humor, triangular
ears perking.
The spaniel felt some of her tears and
misery departing. Her chest grew lighter and a soft smile, light
enough that it was almost invisible, grew across her muzzle.
“Really?”
“Oh yeah!” he gave her an
encouraging wink. Smiling through his towseld fur. There was a
roguish charm that Lady couldn't help but find fascinating. “Cheer
up little Pidgin. You mustn't be down-harden, you're with me! We'll
see what we can do about ditching that hardware. Then you'll be right
as rain.”
“You can help me get rid of these?”
She asked, holding her hand out to present the handcuffs.
“You better believe it! You got
yourself a true blue doer of all things mechanical!” He gave her an
overly dramatic deep bow. “We'll go to the railroad's machine shop
and get those off you. Then you can tell me what on earth happened.”
She looked into his brown eyes, full
of warmth and energy with the slight twinkle of mischief. Then hoped
beyond hope that she was making a good decision. Taking a deep
annihilation to steady herself, she spoke. “Thank you, but what is
your name, sir?”
His triumphant smile deepened. He was
handsome, no question about that! She wasn't quite used to being
around canine men her own age, much less attractive ones. She
couldn't help but notice his fur. He was young, no older then a year
or so then herself. However, his fur was unkempt and tousled, and his
features sharp and strong. His muzzle full of whiskers. Suddenly, she
found herself blushing.
“You can call me The Tramp little
Pidgen.”
“Oh, well. Thank you Mr. Tramp. And
my name isn't Pidgen, it's Lady.”
He gave her a crooked smile that made
her blush hotter then she was comfortable with. “Really? That's a
pretty name, however I kinda like Pidge better.”
The motor and flywheel are enclosed in
a metal housing that fills a cavity in the boiler casting. A cogged
belt drives a worm shaft that runs horizontally below the motor, and
the worm drives a worm gear on the main (second) driver. All moving
parts where cleaned and greased. The old paint was stripped, and the
old detailing removed. A new wood MDC cab was fitted to a newly
detailed and painted backhead. Finally, a new coat of paint and new
paper decals were applied to the cab and tender. The box headlamp was scratch built over the end of the LED post.
