The Canton advocate. [volume] (Canton, D.T. [S.D.]) 1877-1897, 1881-01-06
WATCH THE Bon.

enough. Heaven knows. For twelve
hours the storm had ragged, and now,
instead of showing any signs Of break
ing, the rain came down in torrents
from the inky sky and the thunder
rolled ominously overhead. A bad
storm to drive an engine through, as
anybody would have known, and the
wonder is that No. SO was not three
hours late instead Of one. Old Duke
Granger, the trustiest, nerviest engineer
on the road, rounded the curve Just
below Red Ravine station at twenty-six
minutes past seven. l breathed sigh
of relief when I saw the headlight cut a
hole in the darkness. The station
bridge might have given away in a
storm like that and l was beginning to
get nervous over this thought.
Somehow everything made me ner-
vous that night 1t was just the kind
Of weather when things look all out of
gear, any way.
Then, I suppose, the knowledge of
that money being due and failing to
come on the 11:30, as it should have
done, had its effect on me. l didn't
relish the idea of keeping $4,000 in
cash until the next day. Eldridge &
RlcketsOn had been down themselves
to meet the morning train and if the
! packet had come | could have turned
| 1t over to them at once and that would
have been the end Of t" matter. But
it didn't come. That's a way ings
have in this world, when you most
want 'em.
There wasn't Il soul at the station
that night except myself, and there
| were onl Y two passengers who got off
the train. speak of 'em that way not
meaning to be disrespectful or make
light of solemn things; only its habit I
suppose; for most people would say
there was only one. passenger that got
| off at Red Ravinc, Seeing that the sec
ond Of 'em was carried out Of the ex-
press car in wooden box. Usually.
when a body was coming on. [ got
| word beforehand, but this one took me
quite by surprise, and added not Il little
to the nervousness already felt
''Who is it?'' l asked as the box was
carried into the station.
The passenger who had got Oft the
train and who was stranger to me,
answered my inquiry
THE body is that of my sister-in-
law" said he. She was the neice of
Thomas Eldridge-doubtless you know
him. Her death was very sudden.
She is to be buried in Mr.. Eldrige's lot
here
Then l suppose the body is to be
left in my charge until tomorrow"
said I.
Yes" answered the stranger. "Do
you suppose that l can get to Mr.. FL
bridges myself tonight"
"Well," l replied, cts good four
miles, and in such a storm as this
"I'll wait until Tomorrow" inter
rupted the stranger There is some
sort of a hotel here, isn't there??'
"Yes, a good one. You'll have to
| foot it, though; but it's only matter of
a quarter of a mile, and you can't miss
your way, for the road up the hill leads
straight to the house"
Here | made nv way out to the
platform again and made my way on
the express car where the money pack.
age, which all along I had secretly
hoped wouldn't come, was delivered to
~
to me he said: you'll want to keep
a sharp eye on that, Billy. There's
enough in it to make one of your Red
Rayiners put bullet through your
head and never give you the chance to
object"
"Tll look out for the Red Rayiners
and the package, too" said I, confident
ly enough. But if the truth had been
told didn't like the suggestion which
the messenger had made.
The train moved off quickly and |
swung my lantern, as was my habit, by
way of bidding good night to Luke
Granger. Then went into the station
house with the little package clutched
tightly under my rubber coat, expect
ing to find the man there Who had
come on with the body. But he had
gone, being anxious, no doubt, to get to
the hotel as quickly as possible. No.
80 was the last train which stopped at
Red Ravine until 6:10 the next morn
ing. SO my work for the night was
done and l had only to lock up the
doors, see that things were all right
about the place and sit down to my
newspaper in the little room which
served az my sleeping quarters.
Twenty years had passed since l
first found myself installed at Red
Ravine as telegraph operator in the
railway station. Being content with
the hum-drum sort of life and faithful
to my duties, I had come by degrees to
attend to all the work which the place
required. That is, I was the ticket
agent, baggage-master and keeper of
the station, besides acting for the ex-
press company and continuing my
| charge of the telegraph key. These
combined labors made it pretty close
work for me, but they all yielded a
very comfortable income; ana l was
troubled with no unsatisfied ambitions.
counted myself well fixed. As l
have intimated, l slept in the station,
partly to keep guard on the company's
property and partly from choice; being
bachelor and without kin, IL had moth
ing to attract me elsewhere My
duties had grown part of second
nature and have lived in the little
town so long that the younger genera
ton had come to speak of me as "Old
Billy" That was, | suppose, because
my hair was getting gray and my joints
a little stiff.
The Red Ravine station was wood
en- building about forty feet long and
twenty feet wide. 1t was divided into
two compartments, the larger one be-
ing for freight and baggage and the
smaller one for passengers. My own
little room was only piece parti-
toned Oft from the freight quarter, and
ten feet square and connected by a
door with a box Of an office in the
passengers room. which served both
for seillng tickets and holding the tele-
graph key. In this latter department,
also, was placed the old-fashoned iron
safe, in which l locked up my valu-
able express packages when any hap
pened to come to Red Ravine. The
village, ought to explain, had grown
up entirely through the influence of
the great iron works of Eliridge l.
Ricketson. There were rich beds of
| ore a few miles to the north, and