The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1901-04-18

A YOUNG man sat in tiny coop of
~ a telegraph office, just under a
lowering hill, which every moment
threatened to fall down over the
dreary stretch of shining track, and
into the tumbling noisy river below.
He looked at his watch, frowned i'm
patiently, then put his head upon his
arm. In moment the tireless tick
of the receiver had put him asleep.
Every day at four o'clock he had a
call from Dallas, small flag station
about two miles up the mountain. 1t
was five minutes to four, and, conf
dent that the call would waken him,
he dozed on.
Ann Martin and Ben Joyce had
been schoolmates, and later had been
operators on the same road. The
railroad company for whom they
worked had issued an order prohibit
ing women operating, and now Ann
was teaching school at Dallas. There
was an instrument at Dallas, as the
railroad people sometimes used the
Office, but it was usually vacant, and
Ann would come down after school
and talk to Ben over the wires. They
had a secret sign, and she had never
failed to get an answer from him
when she called.
Ann began to call at exactly four
O'Clock. She could not raise Ben.
She called steadily for some time, in
desperation, at last, telling him who
she was. She got no answer. Just
as she began to call again, she heard
Ben call lockwood, the station be-
low his office. He was answered and
Ann heard him give an order which
took away her breath:
Runaway freight cars. Hold No.
At on Bigler's Siding"
She tried to break. But the only
thing she heard was Ben's message
repeated with insistence. Ben's
E'Morse" was awful. He must be i'll,
or crazy. There was no runaway
train, for she would have seen it, and
No. AZ was the fast mail. 1t never
stopped for anything. The girl gave
a sudden gasp and went white. She
and her twitching fingers mechanic
ally grasped something hard. She
looked down. She held Ben's rifle in
her hands. How it had come there
she did not know. She ran out of
the dingy office. There was no one
in sight except an aged track-walker
On a side-track stood a hand-car,
abandoned by the section gang.
''Help me get this thing started
down the track" she screamed to
the old man.
''You'll be kilt! You'll be kilt, girl!
The Mails duel" he said, but he
pushed her off, and, aided by the
grade, she was soon speeding down
the track, her skirts wierdly stream
ing back to the old mans startled
eyes.
''The lass be goin' to shoot some
one sure" he muttered to himself.
Her tired arms stopped working
the lever when she was about 100
yards from Ben's office, and the ma
chine stopped. She got off and
scrambled down over the river bank.
She crept up till only few feet
below the office. A window opened
on the lower side. Nothing could
be heard above the roaring and
tumbling of the rivers swollen wa
tiers. She cooked the trigger on the
rifle and raised it to the window. All
in marvelously quick glance, she
saw a man, one filthy hand on Ben's
shoulder, the other gripping re-
volver about foot from Ben's fair
bent head. just as she thrust the
muzzle of the gun through the win
dow he turned his head, and their
eyes met as her bullet struck him.
Then his eyes shut forever in dizzy
whirl and he Topped lifeless to the
floor,
With blanched cheeks and bloody
hand, Ben tumbled out
81 was in the Office and heard your
order. I just knew. 1 don't know
why. Ben," she said, with a note on
anxiety, "have you forgotten that
message? Is the Mail due?"
He reached for his watch with his
wounded hand, but she had it out,
looked at it and left it dangling from
the chain. She stepped into the door
way of the Office but drew back.
''Ben, you'll have to take him out
of there. There must be more of
them, and don't you see they'll rob
the train while we're waiting. /
must get lockwood"
Ben caught the feet of the dead
highwayman with his one hand, and
pulled it out and around the corner