The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1877-04-11

hang it there when he was off the train,
so that he could make no mistake in the
time.
ue glanced at the clock, and from it to
his watch. Both indicated the same
hour-7:15.
"7:15," said Kirkc, meditatively, "and
we leave at 1850, and the pay train meets
MS at Deerings Cut at 1915. Scant time
to make the run in this thick weather,
but it must be managed. :"
And he turned away to give some
brief orders to the fireman.
Jack Halliday was there-he had been
strolling in and ont of the room for the
past half hour, smoking cigar, and
swearing at the bad weather. His train
did not leave until near midnight, SO he
had plenty of time to swear.
We all went to the door and took a
look at the weather, and unanimously
voted it deuced bad, and then we walked
up and down the platform, and smoked
onr after-supper cigars, and by the time
we were through it was time for the train
hands to be getting into their places.
Both the clock in the engine room and
Kirke's watch indicated TAO.
Kirke was putting his watch in his
pocket as he said:
"Garth, are you going with me on
the Flyaway?'
"No, thank We, said 1, "I get enough
of that sort Of thing in my everyday
life. I am going to do little swell busi-
ness tonight, and take passage in the
palace car. Want to rest my back.
Good night to We, and hold her i'll we'll
round Rocky Bottom curve. The road
beds little shaky."
"Aye, aye, sir - responded Kirke,
and swung himself to his position on the
Flyaway.
The bell rang-I scrambled to my
compartment i'll the Pullman and felt
horribly out of place among the silks and
broadcloths and smells of musk. But l
was in for tirst-class," and made the
best of it so effectually that five minutes
after Gibson, who fancies he owns all
creation because he has got silver coffin
plate on his breast with conductor" on
it, had shouted Cali aboard - I was
sound asleep.
What occurred in other quarters to
affect the fate of Kmke's train, 1 learned
afterward.
Old Whately, the superintendent of
the road, as 1 guess 1 have already said,
had country residence in Leeds, on
mountain spur, which commanded view
of the surrounding country for more than
a score of miles. The line of the rail-
way could be distinctly seen in each d.
rection fifteen miles, and Whately was
wont to say his lookout was worth more
to the safety Of trains than all the tele-
graph wires on the line.
Whately was rich old buffer, kind
enough in his way, but sharp as ferret
in looking after the road hands, and de-
termined that every man should do his
duty.
He had but one child, q daughter !;
and Floss Whately was the belle of the
country. She was brave, beautiful and
spirited, and more than once, when her
father had been away, had she assumed
the responsibility of directing the trains,
and she had always acquitted herself
with credit.
Old Whately was very proud OF her,
as he had q right to be, and he kept all
the young fellows at distance, until it
was said that he intended keeping his
daughter single till the czar of all the
Russias came on to marry her.
This night in November, old Whatcly
and Floss were out on the piazza of their
country home, peering through the
gloom and fog for the Golosha train,
which was nearly due.
cts very strange it doesn't come in
sight !" said Whately, laying down his
night glass in disgust cit is hard on
to ten now! They ought to show their
light round Spruce pond by this time !"
"You telegraphed them, father? You
let them know the pay train was on the
road q asked Floss.
"To be sure. And, good heavens! !
there is the headlight of the pay train
now! See! not ten miles away, and
running like the deuce, as it always
does!'
He pointed with trembling finger
down to the valley gorge, where, far
away, mere speck in the gloom, could
be seen a light, scarcely moving it SEEM
ed, but those anxious watchers knew it
was approaching at lightning speed.
Father and daughter looked at each
other
The truth was evident. For some
reason the train from Golosha was ten
minutes behind time, and it would not
reach the siding at Deering's Cut until
the pay train had passed beyond on to
the single track And then? Why, to
read under the head of "Appalling
Railway Disaster! and a few more
homes would be rendered desolate, and
few more hearts would be made to
mourn.
Father and daughter looked at each
other in dismay.
els there time?" asked the old man,
tremblingly.
"Selim can do it" said Floss, quickly.
eff I can reach Leeds five minutes be-
fore the train-yes, two mlnutes-all
will be well. Do not stop me, father -
as he laid hand on her arm.
"But you must not go! It is dark
and dismally lonely No, Floss!"
snail CO. lltler = OellW KNOWS
only me, and you could not ride him. I
have ridden darker nights. And he is
the only horse in the stable Don't you
, remember? The others were sent to
town yesterday"
Before old Whately could stop her,
she had ordered the hostler to saddle
Selim, and she was already buttoning
ON her riding habit with rapid, nervous
fingers.
The horse came paving to the
+ door. Floss sprang into. the saddle,
leaned down and kissed her fathers fore
head.
"Pray Heaven to speed mel" she
criel, hoarscly, and touching the horse
with her whip, he bounded down the
sharp declivity.
It was raining steadily now, and the
gloom was intense; but Selim was used
II L. E. i