Johnstown weekly Democrat. (Johnstown, Cambria County, Pa.) 1889-1916, 1889-12-27

The train was still We had pulled up
at wayside station to water the engine,
and was shivering with the chill air.
The dawn was at hand, andI slipped out
of the train and walked briskly up and
down to warm myself, and by the time
the wants of the engine were satisfied the
sun was rising, and began to recover
my spirits.
AT last Short bluff whistle from the
engine, like the bark of some giant dog,
movement among the passengers, and
jarring sensation beneath my feet.
The goal of my desire was not far off.
Now the door of the car was opened
wide, and the conductor, who had kept
away from me all the journey, came in
from the baggage van to take tickets.
Mine was the last. He examined it with
unnecessary deliberation, and then de.
hvered himself Of the following ominous
remark:
"Now, say, why didn't ye write the
colonel that yew were cominY'
The familiarity of this address would
have disgusted me at any ordinary time,
but now | began to feel miserably
anxious.
81 did write" replied breathlessly.
"He will be at the station to meet me"
"He aintr'
The rejoinder came as sharply as the
ping of an arrow. jumped up with
lump in my throat, and looked out of
the window.
The train had stopped and most of
the passengers were leaving it. There
was no station or depot here, only
rough platform on one side of the line,
with Santana" painted in tipsy black
letters on the rail, and solitary log
house a few yards away with "Post-
office" in white letters on the door. Yet
this was undoubtedly my destination,
and the conductor was right-Addison
had not come, There were several rough,
red faced creatures lounging on the plat
form, wearing broad brimmed hats,
great riding boots and prominent spurs;
there were our passengers disappearing
one by one into the log house in search
Of breakfast but there was no Col.
Wynne. What could have happened? l
turned from the window with a gasp,
and met the eyes of the conductor look
ing down upon me with the grimmest
expression had ever seen.
"Well?' he said, with an exasperating
interrogatory infection on that express
sive word.
"Ie cannot have received my letter"
| observed, hurriedly, trying to keep my
voice clear and steady, while the lump
in my throat grew and grew, and /
wanted to cry very badly indeed. To
avert this catastrophe, l suggested that
my belongings should be removed from
the train. The conductor instantly be-
came brisk and helpful, and we were
soon passing by the red faced men, who
drew back to give us room, and stared
with great round, stupid eyes, as if they
had never seen a girl in a gray ulster be-
fore. We went straight to the postofiice,
and were met by the postmaster before
we reached the door. He was a tall,
dark man. with only one eye; a dread
fully ugly man, with very dirty face
and still dirtier hands-a wicked looking
man, thought. The conductor greeted
him as if they were old acquaintances
"Seen Col Wynne lately, Hankg'
"a week ago-came for his mail.
This is his sister"
Mr.. Hank nodded as if he were aware
of the fact, and stared very hard at me
with his one eye.
"Is-is my brother here?" ventured
to ask, just for something to say.
"Hes at the fort, miss"
"And how far off is that?"
Thirty mile-bee line."
My heart began to beat at very un-
comfortable rate. A horrible state of
things
"Would you kindly advise me what
to do?' ........
Breakfast" struck in the conductor
decidedly. you've eat nothing for ten
hours.
"Thank you" l answered politely. 81
am hungry; but l want to know how
am to get to Fort Lincoln"
This question was not to be answered
at once. Neither of the men seemed to
hear it, and without further ceremony
ushered me into the house, through one
long room full of men with stove in
the middle of it, liquor bar, and sew
eral small tables, to small room behind,
where there were heaps of blankets scat.
tered about rough bedstead, one chair
and table.
"Sit down." said the postmaster, point.
ing to the chair. l obeyed, feeling very
forlorn and helpless 1t was dreadful
position to be in. There did not seem to
be woman anywhere. I was thirty
miles from my brother, with no visible
means of reaching him; and this dread
full one eyed man was master of the sit
uation. A whispered colloquy, lasting
several minutes, now took place between
the postmaster and the conductor, after
which the former, whose name subse.
quently discovered to be Mr.. Hank Wy.
brow, turned to me and cleared his throat
as though he were about to address a
camp meeting.
''There's but two things to be done,
miss, as far as we kin see, and you must
fix on which road suits ye best Kunnel
Wynne don't expect you, 1 reckon, Sc
you'll have to hunt him, or send and git
him to come for yew. can't poke up
much accommodation here, and there