The Cheyenne daily leader. [volume] (Cheyenne, Wyo.) 1870-1884, 1882-07-11
THE OPERATORS STORY.

a DAD storm TO uflVe an ell
CINE through, as anybody would have
known, and the wonder is that No. 80
was not three hours late instead of one.
Old Luke Granger, the trustiest, nerviest
engineer on the road, rounded the curve
just below Red Ravine station at twenty
six minutes past seven. l breathed a
sigh of relief when l saw the headlight
cut a hole in the darkness. The second
s~tation-bridge might have given way
in q storm like that, and l was begin
ming 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, anyway. Then, / suppose, the
knowledge Of that money-package being
due and Its failing to come on the 11:30,
rs 1t should have done, had its effect on
me. l didn't relish the idea of keeping
$4,000 in cash until he next day. Ed
ridge q Ricketson had been down them
selves to meet the morning train, and, if
the package had come, l could have
turned it over to them at once, and that
would have been the end of the matter.
But it didn't come. That's a way things
have in this world when you most want
'em.
night except myself, and there were only
two passengers who got off the train. /
speak of 'em that way, not meaning to
be disrespectful or make light of solemn
things only it's habit / suppose; for
most people would say there was only
n one passenger got off Mt Red Ravine,
seeing that the second of 'em was car
ried out OF the express car in a wooden
box. Usually, when a body WAS coming
on, l got word of 1t beforehand, but this
n took me quite by surprise, and
added not a little to the vousn /
already felt.
"Who was it?' l asked, as the box was
carried into the station.
The passenger who got Off the train,
and who was Il stranger TO Inc. answered
nv inquiry
THE body is that of my sister-in. Law I"
said he. "She was the niece of Thomas
Eldridge-doubtless you know him. Her
death was very sudden. She is to be
buried in Mr.. Eldridge's lot, here"
Then 1 suppose the body is to be left
in my charge until tomorrow said L.
Yes" answered the stranger. do
you suppose can get to Mr.. Eldridge's
myself t%o-nightT"
well" / replied, "its n good four
miles, and IN such a storm as ills"
"Pll wait until tomorrow" interrupted
the stranger. There is some sort of y
hotel here, isn't there ?"
Yes, a good one. "You'll have to
foot it, though but it's only a matter of
q quarter of a mile, and you can't miss
your way, for the road up the hill leads
straight to the house,.
Here 1 made my way ont onto 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 delivered to me by
| tho mnqqnnUar Az ha IN II IN Yna lao
said:
You'll want to keep n sharp eye on
that, Billy. There's enough in it to
make II of your Red-Rayiners Put Il
bullet through your head and never give
You the chance to object"
"I1l look out for the Red Raviners,
and the package, too" said l confidently
enough. But, if the truth had been told,
l didn't like the suggestion which the
messenger had made.
The train moved off quickly, and I
swung my lantern, rs wat my habit, by
way of bidding good night to old Luke
Granger. Then l went into the little
station house with the 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 the hotel as
quickly rs possible. No. 80 was the last
train that stopped Mt Red Ravine until
Clio the next morning. So my work for
tho night was done, and l had only to
lock up the doors. see hat 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 l first
found myself installed at Red Ravine rs
telegraph operator in the railway station.
Being content with the humdrum sort
of life, / had come TO attend to all the
work which the place required. That is,
l was the ticket agent, the baggage-mas-
ter and the keeper of the station, besides
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 u
very comfortable income; and, as l was
troubled with no unsatisfied ambitions,
| counted myself well fixed. As / have
ntimated, l slept in the station, partly
from choice, for, being Il bachelor, and
without kin, / bad nothing TO attract me
elsewhere. My duties had grown n sec
md nature, and l had lived in the little
town so long that the younger generation
had come to speak of me rs sold Billy"
That. was, l suppose, because my hair
was getting gray and my joints a trihe
stiff.
The Red Ravine station was a wooden
building, about forty feet long by twenty
wide. II was divided into two compart-
ments, the larger one being for freight
and baggage, and the smaller one for
passengers. My own little room was
only a piece partitioned off from the
freight quarter, about ten feet square,
and connected by n door with the box
Of an office in the passenger room, which
served both for selling tickets and hold
ing the telegraph kew. In this latter
apartment, also, vas placed the old-fash-
Toned iron safe, in which / locked up
valuable express packages when any
happened to come TO Red Ravine. The
village. l ought to explain. had grown
up entirely through the influence of the
great iron-works of Eldridge & Ricket-
son. There were rich beds of ore a few
miles to the north, and these, as well as
the big foundry, which employed four
or five hundred hands, were controlled
by the firm l have mentioned. There
had been some trouble at the works-a
strike or something growing out of delay
In paying the men their wages. That Il
hol 1t happened that the $4,000 money
package came into my keeping for II
Wen, when I had made all snug about
the station, and got of my wet clothing,
l sat down comfortably With pipe and
newspaper, to enjoy my customary read
ing. The storm outside continued TO
rage more and more fiercely, but wlshin
things were coy rs could be. / hal a
blazing fire in the stove, a cheerful light,
an easy chair, plenty of good tobncco-
the one luxury in which l was really ex-
t~ravagant-and a fresh newspaper. Ger