Clarksville weekly chronicle. (Clarksville, Tenn.) 1873-1890, 1875-06-12
A FIGHT FOR LIFE.

III was IN the latter part OF N0Vem-
Der. in the year 1874, that found my
self at sunset, Oh one of the dreariest
days | ever saw, waiting my chances at
little Arkansas station for seat in a
coach, which the telegraph operator as
sured me would start In u couple of
hours for the town Of c., my next
destination s....-..
| sat in the operators little cage,
beating tattoo with my feet, and for
the first time in week feeling utterly
jaded and worn out.
The door. facing the dense and
gloomy forest outside, looked like
some yawning aperture to a cavern, the
oil lamp inside seeming naturally 10
intensity the inky blackness outside.
The operator, a weary, pale-faced
man, seemed glad ofmy company, as he
no doubt WAS, poor old chap, aud de-
layed me with questions about the busy
world to which he was attached only
through his instrument and an occa-
si0nal newspaper. .F
| ascertained that the coach gener-
all made its trip in an hour and half
or two hours
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 fierce
wind twisting the branches together
overhead, and smashing the dry limbs
and twigs with great noise The Oper-
atOr declared that, as it was the mail
coach to c., it would undoubtedly
go, whatever the prospect; as to COM
pany, though, he fancicd | would have
IT pretty much my own way. as there
did not seem TO be any passengers be-
side 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 Nun pushed
the door open and looked in the
glimpse | had of him was not enllven-
ing. He was heavily wrapped, and his
face very nearly covered by thick,
black heard. ..
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
listestly turning the pages of the last
years almanac, not raising his eyes at
all.
Mine was not suspicious nature.
and yet | took no heart 10 his sugges-
ton, and began to think of all manner
of things about the man with the al
manac. m
A house down the road i.
| went to the door and looked out.
The man who had looked in on us
had been sitting on the step formed by
the threshold. was sure il was the
same.
He got up hastily and walked down
the platform not glancing back |
observed then that he wore heavy ca
pote cloak and low hat
The wind blew herrIcane 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 lamp
light fell.
closed the door suddenly as if |
had retired within. | caEnOt say that
it was my purpose to watch the man in
the cloak. but closed the door.
1t was very dark on the platform,
except under the grimy window.
The man came bach softly, and L
nd O.. . 1s..l,k
The black beard and pair of glitter
ingeyes were within two feet of me.
Was he Disconnected ?
He walked on the other side of the
platform leiSurely
The rain began to fall in big splash
ing drops, chilling me thoroughly in
ten minutes. | went back in the ol,er-
atOr' : room: he still ialed over the
almanac, scarcely looking up as |
entered. Soon after there was the dis
tant rumbling of wheels, the trdmple
of horses and few bugle toRes came
down mournfully in the wind.
There the coach. said the Oper-
ator, and Bill Woodlord'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
rumbled up, the driver, in a gray over
coat and woolly cap, helped to get the
mailbag in the boot. shouting out,
This way, if you please, gentlemen,
and not an inch o time TO spare
What's up. Woodford, said deep
bass voice. and where's Sam to-
night?'
Hes gone and gave his ankle A
baddish twist that's all Come, look
alive there !" | buttoned up my coat.
felt that my pistol was all right; | had
taken il from the black bag Just before
the arrival of the coach. ] clambered
in, took a forward seat, and as some
body swung lantern backward aud
forward, discerned that save very old
gentleman, who seemed to be doing in
the back, that was the only plsseu-
ger.
The driver cracked his whip and
with a terrific jolting we started at a iu-
rious rate Of speed We had, perhaps.
accomplished five or six miles in this
way. when the rickety old affair gave
sudden lurch before coming to full
stop; aud the driver appeared at the
window dripping with rain.
We'll have 10 tumble here for the