“I dare say Mr. Tinker will not delay in climbing the Horeb Heights and he is most likely to arrive on the Thunderbolt Express, which is due tomorrow,” ejaculated Moxon, “and I believe that I will immediately bulletin the event, knowing that there will be many who will want to be among the first to welcome him to our Elysian home. President Lincoln and Secretary Edwin M. Stanton will want to meet their old friend and comrade; besides, there is a long list of members of the old United States Military Corps who will be on hand when the express train arrives.”
A bulletin was accordingly indited chronicling the passing of Mr. Tinker and announcing his expected arrival on the morrow, which attracted much attention.
A regiment, bearing banners with the legends, “Spirit of 1865,” “The United States Military Telegraph Corps,” etc., accompanied by several bands of music playing stirring airs, came down the line under the leadership of Col. Marquis D. Crain. The regiment was composed of admirers of Mr. Tinker and were mostly members of the United States Military Telegraph Corps, and all were eager to greet their former colleague.
Among those who were formed in line were the following: James E. Pettit, C. Fred Loomis, Hamilton Young, Ed P. Whitford, Thomas T. Eckert, Samuel Bruch, Jesse H. Bunnell, W. K. Applebaugh, C. D. Hammond, J. C. Van Duzer, Dennis Doren, Anson Stager, G. M. Brush, Eli Cole, H. W. Cowan, J. E. Gamble, Patrick Mullarkey, Douglass Kent, G. D. Sheldon and many others.
“I would like to be among those to escort my young friend to our Tabernacle,” remarked President Lincoln, who could not think of Mr. Tinker in any other light than being “young,” forgetting for the time being that he had not seen the gentleman for more than a half century. But time does not count in eternity. “I remember him so well, and I used to be greatly pleased to call him and his immediate colleagues ‘The Sacred Three.’”
“See, what is that in the sky that looks like a comet?” was asked on all sides. “If this is the Thunderbolt Express it is twelve hours ahead of its record,” and everybody hastened down to the spacious plaza where the big air machine from Earth made her landing.
There was no screeching of whistles or ringing of bells, or cries from the omnipresent hack and cabmen. Instead of such distracting noises came the sound of many voices in patriotic melody, and in the midst of tuneful airs of “Hail Columbia” Charles A. Tinker was welcomed to a temporary abiding place on the planet Mars.