The Red Cloud chief., 1880-02-05

clarion tones. There bad conc no cal
for Red Ravine, and the mes-aye ended
withost signature or mark, butsbrupt-
ly, n Il hsd begun bfsse than shat. q
was not this writing 1t any opers'or on
any section Of the line / would have
swown to tina, with Is much posaiveness
as you would to the tones 81 n voice
with which you were familiar. In the
dot-and-dash alphabet we leara 10 dis
iinguish who l. handling the keys almost
with a. much accuracy 81 oihsrs drIs-
gui.h hand. writing And M all my e$s
perience ! had never heard the sounder
click off a message Ike ilat.
While I stood daxsd snd almost par
alyzed-for YOU must remember that
Old Billy. nerves wers strung 10 n ter
ribIs pifch that night -he rsiad and I'M
! Ineligible click-click vas resumed a. IL
n demon again had got bold Of the key
II was fully five minutes before ! mus
tered courage 70 pass into the ticket
Office and sit down At the table myself.
Not once in that time Bad ] turned back
10 look a, the box. Almost on the in
slant Of my sitting down at the table
the clicking stopped short. as il had
done before, and then those words were
repeated:
WATCH THE Box
Every dot, every dash, every letter,
every word, came with such horrible
distinctness that it seemed To send q
sharp pain tingling through my ears.
IL was ike the loud whispering of some
ghostly voice. Then. again broke out
the jargoa Of sound that turned the
clicking into meaningless confusion
Isprang up frpm the table, and, with
the now. strengthened conviction that it
was no dclusion, no fancy. but that the,
sound had come plainly over the. wires,
| felt my courage returning, and re-
solved To heed the mysterious warning.
The rolling OF the thunder and the mad
roar Of the storm no longer depressed
me. l stepped boldly back into my own
room, and rested my eyes uniinchingly
on the wooden box. What was its mys-
terioas freight? Why hadthc phantom
of the storm sent those startling word,
over the wires? What unknown hand
had reached out from the very lightning
itself Ia warn me Of some impending
danger? These questions rushed through
nv mind As | felt the dread fear disap-
pearing, and found myself Of a sudden
grown strangely calm.
The clock struck 10. turned 10 the
shelf, and, with a hand that no longer
trembled, inserted the KEY, and wound
it c~omposedly. Would it be the last
time that l should perform that simple
ask? No matter. Happier than most
men, because content with my humble
lot, it should never be said that Old
Billy hinched in the face of duty. For
that night it was my duty-my one sa-
cred, all-important duty-to guard the
treasure left to my safc-keeping. And
guard it [ would while life remained.
When i had finished winding the
clock, | took down from the shelf an
old rusty pistol, which had lain for
years undisturbed. 1t was not loaded,
nor had | either powder or bullet any
where in the station. But the weapon
was ugly looking, and carried a sort of
silent force i'm case of too aggressive ar
gument. After examining the rusty
lock, ] put the pistol on the table, made
a fresh glass Of toddy, drank 1t, lighted
my pipe, and-closed the door that
opened into the freight-reOm. Now
that I was thoroughly myself again,
| found it easy enough To shut out the
sight of that ominous oblong box.
1t was not until the clock struck again,
that is, eleven-that | made up my mind
to 60 TO bed. All this time the storm
held on, although the thunder had be-
gun to rumble more distantly. ] threw
off my coat and slippers, put out the
light in the ticket-ofiice, and turned
that in my s~leeping-roOm down
to a low flame. Then | drew
the money-package from under the
mattress and pinned it securely TO my
wooden shirt under myvest. This done,
and with the table so placed that l could
reach both the lamp and the pistol, l
opened the door into the freight-room
some three or four inches, and then
threw myself upon the bed. just as
my head touched the pillow the instru-
ment, which had grown quiet now.
clicked off for the third time, loudly,
distinctly, slowly, its words of warning:
WATCH THE BON!
lHlS Iulc tuc WdiHihS was Hct
needed. 1 had not gone to bed to sleep,
but for the very purpose of watching
the box. Standing as it did, with the
head close to the door. and therefore
close to the box itself, the bed afforded
the very best point from which to keep
an eye on the suspicious freight. Had
my faith in the telegraphic clicking been
less, or had ms own sense of . great re-
sponsibility deserted me for . single
moment, l should certainly have
given up the job of watch
ing as foolish; and, in that case, it is
not likely that this narrative would ever
have been written. But l believed in the
thrice-repeated message, and I did not
let drowsiness overcome patience.
Twelve, one, twO-how very slowly the
hours seemed to drag themselves! The
low flame of the lamp went out, as the
oil had run dry. : What . relief it was
to hear the clock strike? Atlast, some
where about midnight, the storm had
broken. l could see the stars as they
came out, through the window in the
freight-roOm, which was on a line of
vision with the box. How strangely
still it seemed after the mighty roar of
the storm and the sharp cfaps of thun-
der! Not q click from the instrument
now. Not a sound save the steady tick
ing of the clock. Still I lay listening,
watching, with faculties all alert and
my eyes always on the oblong box.
A little past two-perhaps ten min
utes. The silence almost painful in its
profoundness. Nothing but the tick-tick
of the clock, which TO my eager ear had
taken on this sound, which II kept re-
peating oeer and over = So ttsss nsa
"Watch-the-box! Watch-the-
boxi" ,.uNNN
What was that?
Not the clock, notfhe fekefaphic IN
strument. No, it wa the sound as of
the grating of iron. Faint, very faint,
yet ihapdibleEto my ear. Breathing
regularly and deeply, as one breathes in
sleep, l lay and listened. Another in
terval of silence, and then the grssigg
sound came again, this time atfAeb@&
er than before. J. The light of the stars
shining thrpugh the window made The
OBJECTS M ne f~reight-reVsn IL as1o1.
Almost simultaneously, with the second