The Portland daily press. [volume] (Portland, Me.) 1862-1921, 1880-11-08
TIE PRESS.
Watch the Box. y

signs OF breaking, the ram came down III
torrents from the inky sky, and the thunder
rolled omin usly overhead. bad storm tC
drive an engine through, as anybody would
have known, and the wonder is that No. Sc
was not three hours late instead of one
Luke Granger, the trastiest, nerviest engi-
neer on the road. rounded the curve lust be-
low Red Raviae station at 26 minutes past
O'clock. | breathed sigh of reiet when
saw the headlight cut hole in the dark
ness. The station bridge might have given
away in storm like that, and was begin
ming to get nervous thinking of it.
mehow everything made me nervous
that night IL was just the kind of weather
when things look out of gear, anyway
Then | suppose the knowledge of that
money package being due and falling to
come on the II 80 o clock train, as it should
have done. had its effect on me. | didn't
relish the idea of keeping $4,000 in cash
until the next day. Elridge & Ricketson
had been down themselves to meet the
morni G train, and if the package had come
could have turned it oy + TO them at once,
and that would have been the end of the
matter But it didn't come. That's the
way things have in this world when you
most want EN-
There wasn't a soul at the station that
night except myself, and there were only
speak of them that way not meaning to be
dsrespectful or make light of solemn things
only ii is habit, SUI pose; for most people
would say there was only one passenger thai
got off at Red Ravine, seeing hat the second
of 'em was carried out of the express car in
wooden box. Usually when a body was
coming OH got ord of it beforehand, but
this one took me quite by surprise, and
added not a lit to the nervousness [ al
ready felt.
''Who is it?" | asked, as the box was car
ried to the station.
The passenger who had got off the train,
and who was stranger to me, answered
my Inquiry:
THE body is that of my sister-in-aw,''
said he, ''She was the niece of Thomas Ed
ridge-doub1 less you know him. Her death
was very sudden. She is to be buried on
Mr. Eldridge's lot here"
Then | suppose the body is to be left in
my charge until to morrow" said /.
Yes" answered the stranger. 600 you
suppose | could get 10 Mr. Eldridge's my
self to-night?'
SWELL" replied, ''it's good four miles,
and in such storm as this
"Ill wait until tomorrow" interrupted
the stranger. There is some sort of a ho-
tel here, isn't THEREOF
Eyes; good on. "You'll have to foot
it, though; but it's only matter of a quar-
ter OF mile, and you can't miss your way,
for the road up the hill leads to the house"
Here M de my way out to the platform
again and made my way to the express car
where the money package, which all along
had secretly hoped wouldn't come, was de-
livered 10 me by the messenger. AS he gave
it to me he said, You'll want to keep a
sharp eye on that, Billy. There's enough in
1t to make one of your Red Raviners put a
bullet through your head, and never even
give you chance to object"
''rll look out for the Red Raviners, and
the pacfage, too," said l, confidently
enough. But, if the truth had been told |
didn't like the suggestion that the messen-
ger had made.
The train ooved off quickly, and I swung
my lantern as was my habit, by way of bid
ding good night to Luke Granger. Then [
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 was
gone, being anxious, no doubt, to get to the
hotel as quickly as possible. No. 80 was the
last train which sto ped at Red Ravine until
6:l0 O'Clock the next morning. So nv work
for the night was done, and / had only to
lock up the doors, see that things were all
right about the place, and sit down to my
newspaper i'll the little room which served
as my sleeping quarters.
Twenty years have passed since l first
found myself installed at RI d Ravne as tel
egraph operator at the railroad station. Be-
ing content with the humdrum sort of life.
and faithful to my duties, had come by de-
grees to attend to all the work which he
place required. That is, was the ticket
agent. baggage master and keeper of the
Station, besides acting for the express COM
pany and continuing my charge of the tee-s
graph key. These combined labo,s made it
pretty close work for me, bu they all yield
ed a pretty comfortable income; and as |
was troubled with no unsatisiied ambitions
l counted myself as well fixed. As l have
intimated | slept in the station, partly to
keep guard of the company's property, and
partly for choice, being bachelor and with
OUT kin. l had nothing to attract me else
where. MY duties had grown a sort of sec
ond nature and | had lived in the little town
SO long That the young generation had come
to speak of me as ''Old Billy" That was,
suppose, because my hair was getting gray
and my joints little stiff.
The Red Ravine station was a wooden
building, about 400 feet long, and 10 4 ide.
1t was divided into two compartments, the
larger one being for freight and baggage,
and the smaller one for passengers. NV lit
from tue freight quarter about 10 feet
square, and connected by door with box
OF an Office IN the passenger room, which
served both for selling tickets and holding
the telegraph key. In this latter apartment
also was placed an old-fashioned iron safe.
in which | locked up my valuable express
packages when any happened to come to
Red Ravine. The village, L ought to ex-
plain, had grown up entirely through the
.,f -t,.,sr
ridge Il Ricketson. There were rich beds of
ore few miles to the north, and these as
well as the foundry, which employed 400 or
800 hands, were controlled by the firm | |
have mentioned. There had been some |
trouble at the works recently-a strike or |
something growing out of DELAY in paving |
the men their wages. This is how it hap |
pened that the S13, 1000 money package came |
into my keeping for the night
Well, when had made all snug about |
the premises and got off my wet clothing / |
sat down comfortably with pipe and news
paper TO enjoy my customary reading. The
storm outside continued to rage fiercely, but |
within things were as cosy as could be. | |
had blazing fire in the stove, a cheerful
light, an easy chair, plenty of good tobacco
the only luxury in which was really ex-
travagans-a fresh newspaper and bottle
Of good old Holland gin, wherewith to
make my regular nocturnal loddy Certain
y these were pleasant surroundi gs for an
old fellow like me, and, as a rule they
yielded as much solid comfort as man has
a right to expect in this world. But this
night things seemed all out of gear, as l |
have said. My pipe didn't soothe me as |
was Its wont; try as | might l couldn't get |
in the newspaper. and all uncom-
Portable feeling OF dread-a feeling that
some shadowy but dreadful thing was about
to happen-possessed my mind; and even
when | had mixed uD toddy considerably |
stronger than usual, it failed to bring the
'elief l had hoped for.
st all comes of that pesky money pack
age," muttered to myself. ''Why couldn't
I have gotten here on the II 80 and saved |
ne the job of keeping it here over night?'
just at this moment came terrific clap of
thunder fash of lightning vivid
enough to make the lamp dim. I had
locked the package H. the safe, and put the
was no combination lock-in my
pocket. But l had OF the largest faith in
,he security of the old safe. II had occurred
% me often that person could oDen it even
he wasn't a skiltful craftsman. 1t was
ny custom to leave my door open between
ny little room and the ticket office, so that
Red Ravine was called by the telegraph
Key could hear it, The Instrument had
)een clicking away at a great rate for the