Staunton vindicator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1860-1896, 1896-07-03
A GHOST IN THE CAB.

were deserted, and it was time to go
home. So thought cabby No. IL, SILVER
ing in his rusty overcoat. He had watch
ed the electric light On the corner until
its ring of rainbow needles seemed to
stab his eyes and the big shadows Oh the
street below it to shake with the cold.
"Not fare this whole blasted night!'
he muttered, reaching down and pulling
the blanket from his horse.
As he did SO he felt the carriage give
a great jar on its springs. He turned
quickly; some one had flung himself i'll
to the seat behind him.
"What do you want?'' said the cabby
roughly,
There was pause, then a voice came
through the darkness, thick and nasty
as a gurgle of black Oil:
''Drive me to Judas Withers, and, in
the name Of heaven, drive fast!''
''Judas Withers has been dead and his
soul with the devil this many year, %
answered the cabman, staring behind
him
1.-THE house still stands, but I have
lost my way. Go on, you fool!''
The figure reached over, and catching
the whip from it's place gave the horse
a lash. The old beast plunged forward,
banging and rafting down the street,
while the cursing cabman tried to clutch
at the reins, but a hand, chilly and
clinging as the belly of snake, fasten-
ed on his wrist, and the thick voice
came close to his ear:
"Now will you show me my way?'
The driver sank into his place again,
while the old cab rocked like ship.
On they rushed, past closed stores and
lampless blocks of houses. now ripping
and wrenching across the car tracks and
now swinging along the deserted road,
on and On, until the pavements had been
left behind and the frost looked back
from the ruts like million little green
eyes.
At last came the command, 'Stop, I
see it now'' and the next instant the
cab was empty.
"My farer' yelled the cabman. leap
ing down.
There was no answer. lie looked
about him. 1t was very dark where he
stood, but the waning moon, with its
gnawed and crumbled edges, hung On a
line with the fir tops Before him rose
vague blackness, the house Of Judas
Withers, tenantless but for the old wife,
who still chung like some pale lichen to
its moldering stones. Perhaps she, too,
was dead. The cabby did not know. He
did know, though, that Judas Withers
had been a misery carcass, grudging
the very skin that hung his bones to-
gether.
The house stood back from the road
and was surrounded by garden, now
lying gray and lonesome under the
moon. AS the cabby peered toward it he
saw the figure of man come into the
moonshine. It sprang across the open
space i'll soft leaps like a great black
bubble, its every movement full Of
dreadful vitality. Then it was gone AS
the driver himself turned to &c, ne saw
tiny rcd spark flash out from the
house before him, and one after the 9th
er the windows Oh the lower floor
glowed red, as crawling blotch of
sparkles will eat across SCOT.
The man was there-the man who
owed him money-and all fear fled but
the fear OF loss. The cabby tied his
horse and went creeping up the path
under cover of the hedges. When he
reached the house, he raised himself
gently and looked i'll at enc Of the Will
dows Before him lay an empty room.
On the floor, thrown from window
opposite, was great checl.ered flag ct
moonlig ht-nothing more, nothing but
those blue squares i'll the darkness.
Suddenly the cablnan ducked his
head, for he saw that e man had glided
into the room. He carried a candle high
above his head. and his great pale face
was bloated and loose as a curd.
The cabman crouched low. A gust Of
wind set the fir trees whispering, and
shutter slammed far away in the house.
''Guess I'll get out Of this" he NUT
tered, rising. But he did not go, for the
figure that stood in the candielight had
turned it's back to the window and was
digging among the bricks. ripping and
scratching like leopard, while his lol.y
shadow clawed on the ceiling above
him.
"Thief!" said the cabman, between
his teeth, pressing bis ear to the broken
panes. ''Ttere 8 treasure hidden there
perhaps gold, perhaps" Just then
the man inside gave joyful gruni.
He lifted an iron box from the hose
he had been digging. There was no key
in the lock. but at his touch the cover
few open, and out poured the contents
.--blue, green and gold, like a glittering
rush OF water broken beneath the sun.
The cabby's heart stopped beating
"Diamonds!'' he cried softly. Then he
grasped at the window ledge, for the
creature gave howl of anguish.
Good God, they give no light"
And the echoes chartered back, "No
light! No light"
There was long silence, The huddle
on the floor rocked to and fro, his face
buried ia his thin hands.
The moon had sunk and the sky was
clear as dark glass. A cock crowed
somewhere i'll the east At that sound
eA1S "AStSAANo IfsioS4 w
posite him was a door with fan shaped
fransom over it, and as he looked il
grew gray and then rosy. Some one was
coming; now even the cabman could
hear the light creak of steps. Nearer
they came, nearer. The door opened,
and little figure peeped into the room
the little figure ct awoman, shriveled
and very old
The man by the fireplace sprang up.
AS the Woman's eyes met that ghastly
face she gave a cry. "Judasl" she
screamed, "JudasI'' Then she tottered
and slid i'll a heap at his feet He kicked
at her. but she only lay there, gibber-
ing: "What do you want? What do you
Want?"
At last he answered her.
f'It was black; it choked met was
so dark-oh, SO dark! I have come back
for the light they promised me. They
said 1 should find it here; that without
it my soul will be blind-blindl Do you
bear me? Help me find it! As yot We're