Montgomery County sentinel. [volume] (Rockville, Md.) 1855-1974, 1875-05-28
Selected s}liseellanp,
A FIGHT FOR LIFE.

IL WAS III tHc IdtueT puIb VI ANofCuibSi
in the year 1874, that | found myself at
sunset, on one of the dreariest days
ever saw, waiting my chances at little
Arkansas station for seat iG coach,
which the telegraph operator assured me
would start in couple of hours for the
town of C, my next destination.
! sat in the operators little cage, beat
ing tattoo with my foot, and for the
first time in a week, feeling utterly jaded
and worn out.
The door facing the dense and gloomy
forest outside, looked like some yawning
aperture to cavern, the oil lamp inside
seeming naturally to intensity the inky
blackness outside
The operator, a weary, pale-faced
man, seemed glad of my company, as he
no doubt was poor old chap, and de-
layed me with questions about the busy
world to which he was attached only
through his instrument and an OCCASION
al newspaper.
ascertained that the coach general
ly made its trip in an hour and a half
or two hours.
l suggested the probability that as the
night promised so bad, perhaps the
coach would lay over, in fact, | rather
hoped that this might be the case, as |
began to hate the idea Of being whirled
through that dark woods with a fierce
wind twisting the branches together over
head and smashing the dry limbs and
twigs with great noise. The operator
declared that, as it was the mail coach to
c., it would undoubtedly go, what
ever the prospect; as to company,
though, he fancied would have it pref
ty much my own way, as there did not
seem to be any passengers beside myself
He walked down the platform to the
station room, and came back with the
intelligence that it was empty.
Just at that moment a man pushed the
door open and looked in; the glimpse /
had of him was not enlivening. He was
heavily wrapped, and his face very near
ly covered by thick, black beard.
The operator. busy at his table, had
not observed the intruder, and | made
no comment except yawn of general
dissatisfaction.
There's house down the road a
quarter of mile where you might stay
all night, ventured the operator listlcss-
ly turning the pages Of the last years
almanac, not raising his eyes at all
Mine was not suspicious nature, and
yet took no heart in his suggestion,
and began to think all manner of things
about the man with the almanac.
A house down the road
/ went to the door and looked out.
The man who had lookedin on us had
been sitting on the step formed by the
threshold. | was sure it was the same.
He got up hastily and walked down
the platform, not glancing back. | OBJ
served then that he Wore u heavy carote
cloak and low hat.
The wind blew hurricane and there
was not star visible as to road | could
see none, nor in fact anything, but about
twelve inches Of the frosty rails on which
the operators lamplight fell.
closed the door suddenly as if | had
retired within. cannot say that it
was my purpose to watch the man in
the cloak, but closed the door.
1t was very dark on the platform, cx-
cept under the grimy window.
The man came back softly, and
scraped wax taper to light segar =
The black beard and pair Of glittering
eyes were within two feet of me. Was
he disconnected :?
He walked on to the other side Of the
| platform leisurely.
The rain began to fall in big splash
ing drops, chilling me thoroughly 10
three minutes. | went back into the
operators room he still idled over the
almanac, scarcely looking up as | en-
tered. Soon after there was the distant
rumbling of wheels, the trample of horses
and few bugle.tones came down mourn
fully in the wind.
. There's the coach" said the opera
tor, land Bill Woodford's horn, There
must be something wrong; this Is not
his run"
Lights cleaned at the outer end of the
platform. The clumsy old coach rum
bled up, the driver in a gray overcoai
and woolly cap helped to get the mail
bag in the boot, shouting out, . This
way if you please, gentleman, and not
an inch o tune to spare.
:. What's up, Woodford,' said deer
bass voice, .'and where's Sam Tonight z
:. FTr's cone and rave his ankle a bad