The New Bloomfield, Pa. times. (New Bloomfield, Pa.) 1877-188?, 1880-06-08
Beating the Detectives.
That Deaf Old Woman.

A BITTER December midnight and
n the up express painting through it's
ten minutes rest at Rugby. What with
passengers just arriving and passengers
just departing; what with the friends
who came to see the last of the depart
ing passengers or to meet the arriving
ones, the platform was full enough, i
assure you; and had some difficulty in
making my way from carriage to car
riage, even though 1 find people almost
unconscious perhaps) move aside for the
guard when they see him walking up or
down close to the carriage doors. The
difficulty was increased too, by the
maneuvres of my companion, a London
detective, who had joined me to give
himself better opportunity to examine
the passengers.
Keenly he did it, too; in that seem.
appeared to be only an idle, lounging
acquaintance of my own. l knew that
under his unsuspected scrutiny 1t was
next to impossible for the thieves he
was seeking to escape-even in hampers.
1 didn't trouble myself to help him, for
knew it wasn't necessary; yet 1 was
as anxious as hundreds of others that
those practiced thieves whom the police
had been hunting for the last two days
should be caught as they deserved.
Sometime we came upon group
which my companion could not take in
at glance, and then he always found
himself unusually cold and stopped to
stamp little life into his petrified feet.
OF course for me this enforced persistent
questioning with which railway guards
are familiar; and in attending to polite
questioners who deserved answering
and impolite ones who insisted on it, 1
had not much time for looking about
me, but presently 1 did catch myself
watching girl who stood alone at some
distance. A girl very pretty and pleas
ing to look upon, / thought, though her
face and her dress and her attitude were
all sad. She stood just at the door of
the booking office-a tall, slight girl in
deep mourning, with quantity of bright
hair plated high upon her head, as well
as hanging loosely upon her shoulders;
with childish, innocent face and pretty
bewildered eyes. wished 1 could have
gone straight to her and put her into
one-the most comfortable-of the line
of carriages at which she gazed so tim
idly. Just as hesitated very remark
able figure elbowed its way to me-a
stout, grandly-dressed old lady, painting
painfully and almost piercing me with
pair of restless, halfopened eyes, that
looked out through the gold-rimmed
spectacles perched on her sharp nose..
Two porters followed her laden with
bags, cloaks, umbrellas and flowers, the
only flowers in the station, l expect,
that winter; and one of the men winked
at me over her head, while the other
guarded the treasures with a face of
concentrated anxiety and thought, en-
crossed by possible fees.
"This is the London train, is it,
ga'adY" she asked, peeping sharply into
my face with her half closed eyes, as if
she found it difficult to distinguish me
even through her spectacles.
From her whole attitude guessed her
to be deaf, but never guessed how deaf
until, after yelling my answer SO loud
that the engine driver must have heard
eighteen carriages off, she still remained
stonilly waiting for 1t.
Deaf as dozen posts" said the
detective aloud, giving the old lady an
expressive little nod In the direction of
the train.
Slow train 2" she interrogated in