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A Solitary Passenger

A Solitary Passenger image
Parent Issue
Day
9
Month
March
Year
1892
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

The 10.50 train from White Peak was late that snowy Pebruary night. It uever was what one would cali a, painfully prompt train, but to-night ft -vvaö íull fifty minutes behind its usual time, and the telesraph operator had lallen asleep behind the pune of ground glase over wliich the word "ticketó" %vae inseribed in a halt circle, and toward which u most inartistically foreshortened hand was depicted as extending a gilt finger, for the enlightennient of the genera] public. Not that the Big I'ine telegraph office wue ordinarily opea at no late aa liaur as this. Seven o'clock was the usual period of closing. Nor liad Eunice liarlow any oificial right to the toll wooden stool bvJiind the semicircular gilt legend referring to "ïickete," In a manner she had had greatness thrust upon her. üld Mr. Prettydove, who represented the niajesty of the railway company in this particulaii1 íspot, liad {jone home in the early du.sk Avith a raying facial neuralgia, and in common humanity Euïiice could Jiot have reíueed temporarily to asBume lus position wlth its duties. "it will only be auotlior hour of work," .shc told heraelt, cheei-iully, fc elic put au addiüonal log of jrosiJringed wood tato the little air-tigllt stove. "Wlien tlie 10. üü hae paesed I eau fihut up the place and go home. There are only two night reislits, ;uid the conductors on both ol thöm have keys to the frelght houso." But in the course oï thesfe sanguine toeditations üiunice had iieglected to taie into account tlie ctrlvlng suowBtorm aaid the conseqiieut "block" along the rails; and tihe was begintiing to jgkince rather anxiously at fche unaneauiug dial oí the woodeu clock on the iiiie abU above her liead, for whe would have to walk uearly half a mile through the lonely woods tó-e fehe cöuld i-each her home, alter fclieBtation was shut up for the night, tuwl ehe had a plump, timid-natured little xno-tlter Bittiug beside the ïire, who waü nte to imagine all sorts of poesible and impossible horrors if JJunice chanced to be a few minutes 'behiiKl the regulation time oí arrlving at the doorstep. "I wieh," Mitis Bairlow mused, "ihat I had thought to esk Mr. i'rettyelove to eend ïiis boy Zemaa over to teil motlier that I was Jikely to be detained a little. But there ! the train can't be Jiong novv." Outekle the wind howted like ai infuriated demon in the worst possible oí tempere. The tops of tlie plne trees (kept up a constant moauing, like the waves oí .soine black-green Sea. Within, the clock ticked lustily on, tlie logs of wood crackled and sputtered in the utove, and Eunice üarlow yawned over her paper-covered I vanhoe, With a growing indifference to the fate uüke of the fair-haired liowena and liebecca the beautilul. Suddcnly the eilence was broken by the tiniest nound, like the xhrobbing oí èome emaU Bilver Jieart. Eunice íumped up, instinetively obedient to the cali of her autocrat, the teleEraph. "A message !" she thought. "And at this tiinue of the ndght. WeU, wonUers Tvill liever cease." A message it was; to Peter Pretty'im agent ut Big Pine etatbfl multuous throbbings. And not unti tlien did the telegraph operator real ize wliut a vea-y peciiliar position blie -wae 4n. All alone at Big Pin Station, and offically authorized, in l-ight of her substitution, to arres a bank defulcator on the spot ! Even white she pondered on tlii unexpected btate ol things there wa a curious tlirill and tremble of the iloor beams under her feet; a shril titeam whistle arising above the sus tained roar of the tempest. The 10.50 'officially known as No.,21, was swinging around the curve. In au instant üunice was out in the Ueep fcnow of tin; a'ude board platform with the lighteil lautern in her hand The conductor of the train was' not ut all Burpriised to eee her there. He knew that Peter Prettyclove was old tand ïeeble, and a epirlted, young female telegraph operator ís rated at her tull value in the Big Pine section. She tried to signa! to him that Bhe wanted to speak to Jiïm, but the blinding isnow drove lts shrouds likc 'eheete between them. He nilled and inoded at in the, aggravatlng way that men have when they u'e particularly obtuso, shouted some incomprehensible comment on the weather, ïielped to loosen the brakes, and was ooi eighth of a añile up the track before Eunice'e lantern light iell on a black figure, íts hat pulled over its 'pyes, ite ïor-ni closely buttoned up in- fur-trimmed övercoat ! 'Is tjiis the station ?" said a low, well niodulated voice, which gave Miss Baa-low the idea that the unliappy victim of justice was a gentleünan Txrn and brcd. "Where are the the portere ? TTpon iny word" (looking .ao-ound aftvr a bewildered fashian,) "i'm afraid they've lorgotten to put off tmy luggage. Isn't there a fii'e feomewhere hereabouts '?" Eunice Barlow looked solemnly at Jiini na ehe opened the door into the iM-ight, cheeriully lighted little station. Yes, the telegra,ph description had been correct. He was small and tlark, 'and, poor fellow, lie looked as if he was half frozeii to death. But nou enrose the perplexiiig question, hou was eJie to "detain hún ?" "I cam lock fliim in tlie ticket office,' she thought to hereeif. "He will bc eaife eiiough until Mr. Pettyclove comes iu the inorning. But, poor fellow I do teel sorry ior him. Tlie eolitary passenger feil lieadlong into the trap iaid ior hini by the tele grciph operator. He -ft-alke! directly into t.he ticket office juid eat down, Wlth a woary Bigh, od the tall wooden tooi wtUch had lately eerved Mis Barlow as a tlirone of office. "Only about as oíd as our Víctor would hiave been had he lived," thought Eunice. -'Oh, 1 woader what einister liifluence led him into this terrible mistuke ! I vonder- You ure mistaken, Kir," she said, aloud, iu answer to his reiterated questions. "Thei-e are no porters here. There i.s aio (hotel neíurer than Pine Barrena, four milee away. The agent is detaincd at lioine by sickuess, and I am tlie telegraph operator, on duty in his absence." , Tlie stramger iittred a long, low whistle. "I -thinJi," he aid, "Í must have maiitíged to alight at the jumpkig-afl place of all tlie -world. Wliat's to be done, I wonden' 7" He Jooked so cold, bo youthful, so uttc.rly 'desolate, that, that Eunice Iïarlow's lieart bied for htm ia hit eolitude and poril. "Even itf he lias f?one wrong," she IJondered, with all a young girl's optünism, "he may do better 11 he can ouly get a chance. Alter all, I am not the station agent. How eau they expt'ct jut', a woman, to usurp the place of the officers of the law ? 1 could detain him jMjrfeetly well, lut " "Can you teil me," pleaded the solitary paeeemger, "where I can get a üight'e lodg-ing and Éjomething to eat ? It is üix hoiia-s Snee we left the supper fctation, and I am just recovering irom a. siege of malarial fever. .Slirely thei-e must be someone around here who could act as iny guide." "Thére is no one Jiere bat me," Baid Qlis liaj-low, locking the cash drawer und preparing to e.vtinguish the one reflector lamp that glowed above the ïew aTival's head. "But if you choose to go home with me I dure Bay auy motlier wiU give you some öupi)er and a bed. Our house is the lueaxest to this place. And to-morrow" -with a Bomewhat significant pause -"you can begin a new career." "I'in awiully obliged to you," said the gentleman, jumping up with alacrity. "But how many caj-eers per week do these westerners count on ? Tve no objectiou, for iny part, to the oíd one eontinued." Miss Barlow's sace remained inexoa-abdy grave. She considered it no part oí lier duty to countenance fliplancy like this. fche locked the bUition oiiMl hung the key on its Jiooked taail clone Svithin the latticed casenient outside, where winds could not hurí 4t away nor storms disturl it, beíore Bhe Baid, quietly: "This way, ïlease. The lantin will light you' Biilíieient.ly if you aire a little careíul; ötherwise you will find the way Vather iiteep and narrow down the hill. You are perhaps unaware that u. telegi'am deserilwiig your personal uppeaa-auce has just come in trom the White Teak oííice ?" ■A telegram ! By Jove, tlie whole tlilng is out, then !" He fcpoke quickly; there was genM"' digust aud dissatisfaction exscd in every feature of nis face.. ■.'es," a-esponded the telegraph op■r. "the -u-hole thlng is out. Your ■eet ure i.s quite correct." ■es- I foeg your pardon, but reul■ hLs is a of some Jmpor■ce to me- does uiy one know it ■des yourself ?" H ■ may depend on you ?" with imnig emphaeiB. "Yes you may depend on me." "Thankg, awfuUy !" declared the esfcranger, iwtth fervor. "You eee, it toakes it very unpleasant to h'ave these things talked about." "I Bhould tlünk it might"- frigidly. "And I bad counted on remaiuing Btrictly incognite." A brief Bitence eneued. Eunice was sondering lvow her straage compantoa could speíik so coolly of "these tlnngs." -Was he ntterly dead to all Bhame?" she thought. The strange eompanion, in the meantime, was uijr marvclmg at the ease and light ness -with which this extraordinarj fcurl trtepped. ooit through the show tirifts. , . "A perfect Amazon," he said to himself; and a pretty one, too. Why öon't fehe keep talking ? i ]ike the timbre of lier voice; U's a re-ular Contralto." (At length he Ixroke the silence. "Can't I carry that bag you ?' eaid he. "Do you know whatfala this bag ?' fehe counter questioned. "Haven-t the least idea," J,e re Bpoiwled. "The money taken in over the ticket desk to-day, and tlie keya of the cash ida-awers. I ara reeponnible lor U of it." "Indeed ? But couldn't I carry it ust the same? You have enough' to do to manage the lantern." "Yes," asented Eunice, -you may ttarry it, if you please; it will cerainiy pive me a better chance with lic lantern. Yrou feee I trust you." "Miich obliffed, I'm eure. Have we nuch farther to go ?" "No; you could eee the light down n the valley now if your eyes were teen, and if the snow didn't drive fco f ast." "It Beems to me," obserred the oung man, after another interval f Bilence, during which itte crunching f their feet in the bhow and the perstent üiowling of the ivind vr&a all ïat brokc tlie spell, "that they put great deal of o-esponsibility on y oung vom?n in tuis part of the world." "A Lfreat deal is torced upon them, mul a good dea.1 they a-ssume themnel ves," said Eunice Barlow, composedly. "I am willing to admit that I have taken a heavy responsibility m inyeelf to-nig-ht." "Eh '!" "And I think," Bhe added, turning lier calm, gray eyes upon him wlth a light as uteady as that of the lantern, "that you know what it is." The etranger looked surprised. "I wonder," lie sadd to Jiünsclf, "if I am all alooie upon this inádnight road wlth a mad woman. It begiiw to look uupleasantly like it." "Unlerstand," addod Miss Barlow, "that if I take you home tonig-ht anú shelter you, I must have your promiöes " "The duce you must !" cried the young man, -waxiug inore and more uneaay. "Oh, I say, now, this isn't fair !" "Never to repeat the offence !" "1 Avon't if 1 know anyself." "To tua-n over a new Jëal from tliis time forward," B'he pursued vigorous"Tlie new eaveer questiou again ! m blessed if I know -vvhat all tliis W-'-ans," gasped the solitu-y passener, brathing hard, as bi-easted II at once the flying Bhrouds of show. : the keen tooLh oí the west wind. and tile perpLexing proWem put iorth by the air guidu. Por fair Bhe was; hu could ce as much as tliat lor hinieelf. ■'Kquivocation is entirely uaeless," said Eimice, severely. "You know perfeetüy well what I mean. I have Kiveu you a chance íor íreedom; íor AVhat is better, ame and character. Kee to it tliat this chance does not poss ■unimproved." "Mad !" inuttea-ed the ütranger to himseU; "very mad ! Kntirely a liopeless case, I should say. X wonder íf there really was a telegram, or if that Ls mea-ejy a pai-t oí her brain disWPder? I wonder ií I better keep with her, nobotly knows whither, or ciit and ruu it, unow storm and 631. ?" "Thca-e ia no niitigating your ofense," gravely proceeded Mise Barow. '-.rtud, I aesert that at the "ea-y :beinaiiug. But, as X said beore, I am wülhig to give you one onore cliance." , "Very kind oí you, I'm sure," hopelessly mui-mured the young man ■ "But -wouid it be con&idei-ed intrusive íf l were to ask what the offense is ?" ■ïou iuive batieiy abscouded with yow femployer-e money," eaid Eunice, with tlie ireezing eternness oí idealized 1 justacc; -in utner w.onte, you iu-e a lauk dei alca, oor.'! "No, 1 111 uot,' 'stoutly asserted the etranger. i be your pardou ïor comwadictkig you, but ttmfe xU u luisuike ïrom tHiuiuiiug to eul. I'il Btuiiü a gooü Oeai, üud 1 wou t isucn luuuetj uu ijiat." "Tjiis is Wiarcely a iair return for iuy treatuieiit 01 you," said Üunlce, with Hmna coutempv. ■leceit alded to taüue." "Oh, come, now, woa't you give u. ieUow a. oüaace V uttweil iier ooinpaoiloii. "As the school books way, -trike, but hear.' i've ïiobouy s wijuey but my owxi, üiid uot too much oj tiiat. I doii'tkuow anythlng aoout jour iKuiks nor Oeialcatom. i'Ve beeu oiuy two weeks ín yoUr countd-y, and I think it's tue suovvit, cdunate gering. My name te ju,., TüwaUioo, and I was .to liave beeu 'met at the station by Coloned Copely, oï the Hundredth cavalry." Eunice Barlow gave a little shrtók tn uniazument. ■ir Krnetst ïiusal3on !" Khe cried. "The Kuglishmau ■wjio -was coming out here to huut buifulo, and follow up the line oí Pine Rivet ■! But you Jiave aüshted ut the wrong etation; you Bhould have stopped at Pioe Barracks, Beven añiles bey oud here." "I heard the conductor bawl out omethiug about püie oi some sort or auotluir," üaid tlie young Briton. "I wae dead asleep, and didu't stop to discrimínate, and I Bcrambled olí So I've made a mistake, have I? But, all the same, it's awlully Kood of you to oiïer to conduct me to a ÜJLace oí Christian shelter." "And I have made a mistake, too " aid Bunloe wlth a gasp. -Just beïore your train carne in there was a message wired to Big Pine station-a message to detain a bank robber ■ wno iï Baid to be on the train. I ■u-as all alone, but I could have locked bim into the ticket office perfectly well. AVe western girls aj-e perpared for any emergency" (with ome pride). "But I was so sorry for you, you looked teo young and Innocent; and I iletermined to give you one more chamce " "For a new career," interrupted the tranger, with a gust of laughto'. "The key to ,the puzzle ! I Bee it all now. Don't you kuow, I was beguining to thdnk you jnust be a lunatle. And how disagreeably near I eanie to -being locked up, after all ! And the bank fellow, whoever lie m eeems to liave got off ecot free lteal' v, aow, ö ever anan had a guardián wigel. you u-e one," he added, as EuBtee led the way into the pretty litmL$ TOm' hUDS With the last 01 the Chrustmas evergreens, and all alw !, red carpet and curtain, Avhüe the flw of logs burned on thé open hearth and a co.sy meai w Spread on the table. Sir Erneet TinsaHon stept in the pare chamber that night a„d was called by etarlight, and breakfasted U six o'clock the next morning wh the tótegraph operator and her taother, and afterward accompanied to the Big Pine Btation, ins through white masses of Snow arfft, and ehding, echool-boy fashion aci-oss the mirror-like eurface of froz to brooks. jjr. Pettyclove was there telegrama awaitiog the hand of the operator. One was irom the chief of pólice at White Peak, Btatlng- ïather late, perhaps- that the lunk Öeteleetar had at the eleventh hour, mul on the very step, so to speak, of tlie train, surrendered himsell to the local authorities. There was another bom ColoiK-l Copley, of the Four HunÜredth cavalry, inquiring if anything had been heard at Big Pine station, of the missing English baronet who ■wae overdue at the barracks. "Only think," eaid Miss Barlow, -witn tt Jittle slwver, "if I had locked you up in the ticket office all night, wliat %voiild Eolonel Copley have said !" "That, undor the circumstances, yo hid done 110 more than your countr eipected of you," returned Sir Érnes "But, 1 eay, all this thiug was avfully plucky of you. Miss Barlow, I tlon't know of ao Kiiglis-h gia-1 who vould have had the courage to go through with it." Euuice miled a little. "Hei-e is your train, Kir Rrnest," ehe said. "But I tiaven't thanked you hall' cnougli." He Btood lioldiug both her hands, his iresh English face all eagerHess. "It is quite unnecesaary to say any iiioif." observed Jliss Barlow, (uietly. "There is the telegraph. I ain wantod at my post of duty now. (rood-bye, ts-ir Emeet. 1 wish you , evry pleaeant Journey." SLr Brneet Tinsallon went on lii Wy into the blue, glittering uold o that peerless winter norning, wit] the pine trees looking like Druids cla in müne robes, and the plains al sheeted in Icvel pean-1, and Eunice Bar low saw liim no more. No, h.e die not come ib;u;k to woo and wed lier as the too of au othodox love tale should have done. He could not, leing alreafly emgaged to .another young wolnan n EngLand. But lie Kent a Bliperb iiaauper of g-ame to Mrs. Barlow, in caire of the telegraph operator at Big Piiie station; and at inany ui EiiglLsh dinner table he told the story of his ïnidnight adventure in Jie wild west. "The prettlest girl you ever aw, by Jove !" lie reiterated, dn tliat earnest -way of liis, "and the pluckiest ! Joan of Are was jiothing to her. I Öreajaed lof her ft o, week afterwards, with her Bwiiiging lantern and thoso g-reat gray of Uiers, and the pretty tittle speeches about 'tiu-ning over a new k-af' that slie made to me. Yes, I did; aaid I'm not ashamed to owii it, even before Lady .Tinsallon here Eh, Ivate ?" And the Englisli bi-ide laughed good ümnoredly, iuid observed that "to bear táir Ernest talk, the Anierican girls must be iull-fledged heroines." "She %vas; I can vouch lor that," Baid Brnest.- Lucy Randall Comíort iu Harper's Bazar.

Article

Subjects
Old News
Ann Arbor Courier