Daily globe., 1881-03-20

cleared the spot with scarcely depres-
sion told that the speed of the train and
Ben Miles rashness had saved the lives
in his keeping.
"Hurrah We're safe p shouted the
! fireman.
| But not SO Ben Miles. Just as he had
raised the iron bar to cast it at the twist.
ed rail, half dozen puffs of smoke arosl
from as many clumps Of grass not fan
from the track, and q shower of bullets
whizzed through the air. Ben fell back
on the cowcatcher. Was he struck? The
fireman strained his eyes to get a glimpse
Of his return. Presently Ben's head ap-
| peared to view; then an arm !; and then
he worked himself up, turning his back
to the cab, the better to hold back
! against the rushing air, which now
strove to hurl him to his retreat with as
| much force as before it had fought his
advance. All this time Ben used but
one arm, and Jake could see that the
other was bloody and hung by his side.
With fearful struggle he finally reached
| the cab and clambered inside.
"Ha, ha, ha p rang out the same di-
abolical laugh the devils thought to
throw us, but their scheme slipped up,
eh, Jake %
"But your arm, Ben?'
event back on me; failed me at q
pinch-as it never did before"
"Why, here's bullet hole through
the muscle above the elbow !"
"Eh, hit? Well, wrap it with hand
kerchief. Jake. I know a physician for
wounds like that. You'll have to coal
up now. See how the dear old snorter
scurries along. We're only twenty miles
from home. She shall see how ma
chine can run !' And Ben thought no
more Of his useless arm.
A few miles on the hither side of the
station they were now approaching,
which formed the terminus of the divis.
ion on which Ben Miles had been rum
ming for some time there lived q most
charming woman. Five years before
her husband had been wealthy and
prosperous man in Boston but reverses
in fortune came to him, and he saw with
deep pain the hollow side of that society
which had always till then courted his
favor. The sight shook his faith in the
depth of human goodness /; he longed to
be Timon and turn his back upon this
Athens. He yearned for a wild life in
the West, but he could not ask his wife
which she had always lived. She, how
ever, observed this inclination Of his
mind, and, by insidious degrees, made it
her own proposition. ''Come." said
she, "Iet us live on farm, far away
from the world; we will make a paradise
for ourselves. They went, and her
words were in truth fulfilled. While he
planted wheat she planted flowers, and
in two years the house and grounds were
bower of loveliness.
It was sad day to this young wife
when death took away the husband she
delighted to make contented. She would
not show his corpse TO her 3-year-old
girl but when the little one asked for
papa, she could only tell her that some
time she would see her papa again. So
the child was happy, and the widows
heart-during the three years that had
now passed-was insensibly ightened
byits gleeful laugh.
Ben Miles saw this child in one of his
rambles, when it had strayed from the
house a little farther than usual, and
thought he had found an angel, till she
told him she lived in the cottage up by
the road. While he was talking to her,
her mothers voice, in musical but pierc-
ing tones, called from over rising in the
ground, and, taking her in his arms, Ben
strobe rapidly toward the sound, saying,
"There's anguish in that cry, my little
one you must hasten to drive it away"
Never had Ben forgotten the look in that
young mothers eyes when he put her
child in her arms; and when she thanked
him, with her sweet, tremulous voice, she
robbed him, without knowing it, Of one
Of the kindest hearts that ever beat in
mans breast.
Ben could only speak to her Of the
child. "May I come and see her again
and bring some-some-"
"Candy?" queried the little one at
the pause; "of course you may; [ like
candy dy-and I like you, too"
"Ah, I shall bear charmed life here
after, [ know I shall !" and Ben raised
his broad -brimmed hat and strobe away
with genial laugh. He went often to
the cottage afterward. It stood within
twenty rods of the track, and his COM
panions on the road had seen him there
as they passed by. They had noted
another fact-strange to them, but
which will not be to you, reader-Ben
Miles never drank at this end of his
route.
"Stokel stoke up, Jake! Well soon
see the cottage in the shrubbery! She
says there's poetry in the grandeur of a
swiftly moving train! Ha, la, ha; I'll
show her the grandest poem she ever
saw"
"He's worse than ever; strange how
the liquor hangs on to him." said Jake.
81 never knew him to speak Of her IN
til to-day"
In fact, it seemed as if Ben Miles was
mad. He had run two hundred miles
in four hours-the track being cleared
for this train-including the few short
stops for water-andinstead Of sobering,
the motion had seemed to keep the
liquor in his head. Jake made up his
mind to rebel, so fearful was he of an
accident in the short distance yet to
run.
''You do not stoke, Jakep'
s'She's got more than enough fire