Litchfield enquirer., 1880-04-22
A MYSTERIOUS TELEGRAM.
A MESSAGE THAT NO MAN SENT.

en knows. For twelve hours the storm had
 ragged, and now instead of showing any signs I of breaking, the rain came down in torrents l from the inky sky, and the thunder rolled
 ominously overhead. A bad storm to drive | an engine through, as any body would have
 known, and the wonder is that No. 39 was
 not three hours late instead of one. Old Luke | Granger, the trustiest, nerviest engineer on
 the road, rounded the curve just below Red 1 Ravine Station at twenty six minutes past
 seven. breathed sigh of relief when I saw 1 the headlight cut hole in the darkness. 1 The station bridge might have given away in
 a storm like that and was beginning to get
 nervous over this thought.
 Somehow everything made me nervous that night. It was just the kind of weather 1 when things look all out of gear any way
 Then, suppose the knowledge of that mon 1 ey package being due and its failing to come
 on the 11:30, as it should have done, had it's l effect on me. I didn't relish the idea of keep | ing SIS 900 in cash until the next day. Eld- l ridge and Ricketson had been down them
 selves to meet the morning train, and if the
 the package had come 1 could have turned it l over to them at once, and that would have
 been the end of the matter. But it didn't
 come. That's way things have in this world l when you most want 'em.
 l There wasn't soul at the station that night | sengers who got off the train. I speaK of em
 that way, not meaning to be disrespectful or
 make light of solemn things only it's habit,
 l suppose for most people would say there
 was only one passenger that got off at Red Ravine seeing that the second of 'em was carried out of the express car in a wooden box. Usually, when body was coming on
 l got word of it beforehand, but this one took
 me quite by surprise, and added not little to
 the nervousness already felt.
 'Who was it? asked, as the box was car. | ried intot the station.
 The passenger who had got off the train,
 and who was a stranger to me- answered my | inquiry.
 | 1.-The body is that of my sster-in-law, !" | sald he. ''She was the niece of Thomas Eld- ridge-doubtless you know him. Her death
 was very sudden. She is to be buried in MT. l Eldridge's lot here."
 ''Then I suppose the body is to be left in | my charge until tomorrow" said l. "Yes, answered the stranger 'Do you
 suppose can get to Mir. ETdridge's myself to- l night"
 Well" replied, tits a. good four miles, | and in such storm as this-''
 "pll wait until tomorrow, interrupted the l stranger. "There is some sort of hotel here l isn't there ?'
 "Yes, good one You'll have to foot it, l though; but it's only matter of quarter of l mile, and you can't miss your way, for the
 road up the hill leads straight to the house. Here made my way out on to the platform again and made my way to the express car, where the money package, which all along l had secretly hoped wouldn't come, was de- | livered to me by the messenger As he gave ] it to me he said: "Youll want to keep | sharp eye on that, Billy. There's enough in it | to make one of your Red Raviners put .bul-
 let through your head, and never give you the | chance to object"
 ''Fll look out for the Red Ravners, and the ] package, too," said I, confidently enough l But if the truth had been told,I didn't like l the suggestion which the messenger had made.
 The train moved off quickly, and swung my lantern, as was my habit, by way of bid 1 ding good night to Luke Granger Then I went into the station house with the little | package clutched tightly under my rubber
 coat, expecting to find the man there who had come on with the body. But he had gone, being anxious, no doubt, to get to he hotel as | quickly as possible. No. 39 was the last train
 which stopped at Red Ravine until 6:1O the
 next morning. So my work for the night was | done and had only to lock up the doors, see l that things were all right about the place, and | sit down to my newspaper in the little room
 which served as my sleeping quarters. Twenty years had passed since first found | myself installed at Red Ravinc as telegraph operator in the railway station Being con tent with the hundrum sort of life, and faith | full to my duties, had come by degrees to | attend to all the work which the place re- | quired. That is, was the ticket agent, bag gage master, and keeper of the station, be- | sides acting for the express company and con-
 tinuing my charge of the telegraph key. These combined labors made it pretty close
 work for me, but they all yielded very con- 1 fortabe income; and as 1 was troubled with l no unsatis6ed ambitions, I cou2ted myself | we'll fixed. As 1 have stated, I slept in | the station, partly to keep guard on the con-
 being bachelor and without kin, had noth- ing to attract me elsewhere. My duties had l grown part of second nature, and had lived | in the little town so long that the younger l generation had come to speak of me as 'OId Billy" That was, l suppose, because my | halr was getting gray and my joints little stiff.
 The Red Ravine station was a wooden
 building, about forty feet long and twenty l wide. It was divided into two compartments, | the larger one being for freight and baggage, and the smaller one for passengers. My own little room was only piece partitioEed of from the freight quarter. and ten feet square, and connected by a door with box of an office in the passengers room, which served 1 both for selling tickets and holding the tele- graph key. In this latter apartment, also, 1 was placed the old-fashloned iron safe, in l which locked up my valuable express pack | ages when any happened to come to Red Ra- 1 vaine. The village, l ought to explain, had grown up entirely through the influence of the great iron works of Eldridge 6 Rlckeston. W rich ho6o If foxr y,,;la l north, and these as we'll as the foundry, which l employed 400 or 800 hands, were controlled l by the firm l have mentioned. There had been some trouble at the works recently-a | stnke or something growing out of delay in paying the men their wages. This is how it
 happened that the $13,000 money package
 cane into my keeping fer night.
 We'll, when had made all snug about the
 station, and got off my wet clothing, sat
 to enjoy my customary reading. The storm
 outside continued to rage more and more l fiereely, but within things were cozy as could
 be- had blazing fire in the stove, cheer
 full light, an easy chair, plenty of good tobac- 1 co-the only luxury in which I was really ex- travagant-a fresh newspaper and a bottle of good Holland gin, wherewith to make my
 regular nocturnal toddy Certainly these
 were pleasant surroundings for an old fellow
 like me, and as rule they yielded as much
 solid comfort as man has right to expect in
 this world. Bot that night things seemed all out of gear. as have said. My pipe didn't sootte me as was it's wont; try as might 1 couldn't get interested in the newspaper an
 uncomfortable feeling of dread-a feeling that
 some shadowy but horrible thing was about to
 happen nxxpossessed my mind and even when had mixed up toddy considerably stronger
 than usual it failed to bring the relief I had I hoped for.
 ''It all comes of that pesky money pack
 age, muttered to myself. ''Why couldn't
 it have got here on the 11:3O and saved me
 the job of keeping it here over night,!!"
 Just at this moment came terrific clap
 of thunder, and flash of lightning vivid
 enough to make the lamp dim. had locked
 up the package in the safe, and put the key
 there was no. combination to the lock-in my l nocket Rut had nnt tho larrast faith in ha