far and near copied the articles about the "Hero
of the Throttle," and the item about the road's interest in heroes
attracted the attention of our general passenger agent--he liked the
free advertising and wanted more of it--so he called me in one day, and
asked if I knew of a choice run they could give Miles as a reward of
merit.

I told him, if he wanted to make a show of gratitude from the road, and
get a big free advertisement in the papers, to have Miles appointed
superintendent of the Spring Creek branch, where a practical man was
needed, and then give it out "cold" that Miles had been rewarded by
being made superintendent of the road. This was afterwards done, with a
great hurrah (in the papers).

The second Sunday after Miles was hurt, Marie was down, and I thought
I'd have a little fun with her, and see how she regarded Miles.

"There's quite a romance connected with Diston's affair," said I at the
dinner table, rather carelessly. "There is a young lady visiting here in
town--I hear she is very wealthy--who saw Miles when we took him off
his engine. She sends flowers every day, calls him her hero, and is just
crazy for him to get well so she can see him."

"Who is she, did you say?" asked my wife.

"I forgot her name," said I, "but I am here to tell you that she will
get Miles if there is any chance in the world. Her father is an army
officer, but she says that Miles Diston is a greater hero than the army
ever produced."

"She's a hussy," said Marie.

I don't know whether you would call that a bull or a bear movement on
the Diston stock, but it went up--I could see that.

A week later Miles was able to come down to our house for dinner, and my
wife asked Marie to come also. I met her at the depot, and after she was
safe in the buggy, I told her that Miles was up at the house. She nearly
jumped out; but I quieted her, and told her she mustn't notice or say a
word about Miles's game leg, as he was extremely sensitive about it.

My wife was in the kitchen, and I went to the barn to put out the horse.
Marie went to the sitting-room to avoid the parlor and Miles, but he was
there, I guess, and Marie found her hero, for when they came out to
dinner he had his arm around her. They were married a month later, and
went to Washington, stopping to see us on the way back.

As I came home that night with my patent dinner pail, and with two rows
of wrinkles and a load of responsibility on my brow, Marie shook her