St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1902-01-01

and sudden leap caused Mrs. Stackpole
| to drop a lot of plates she was carrying
| to the sink, but not even the terrific
crash of broken crockery elected the
slightest attention from Cyrus. The
| letter had futtered from the old mans
hand to the floor as he ran, and Mrs.
| Stackpole stopped and picked it up with
shaking fingers. Something in that let
ter, she knew, had caused her hus-
bands sudden dismay
She turned first to the signature. 1t
was from Frank, their own dear boy,
from whom they had not heard for two
years and whom they had about given
up for dead, since he disappeared in the
Alaskan goldfelds. He wrote:
Dear Father and Mother am coming home at
last-a rich mani Have been out of the world,
practically, since l wrote you Iast-liying in
hut 200 miles beyond civilization. viii tell you
all when l see you. Look for me next Tuesday
evening l learn that you lave a new railroad
now, and l can reach you by train the same even
ing ! get to Wilmington God bless you both
Lovingly, FRANK.
What was there in that blessed letter
that could have caused her husband
such distress? Mrs Stackpole wiped
the tears of joy from her eyes and sped
out to the barn.
Cyrus" she cried, what on airth
air We doing"
Cyrus was hurriedly replacing the
yoke on the necks Of the weary oxen.
Iiet bo 1e 10 foOa
spread with an ashen gray pallor.
"Git out O the way" he shouted as
he dashed the oxen from the barn, the
long chain that dangled from the yoke
Gathering behind. He caught lantern
from a nail and hurried after the star
tied and bewildered beasts.
where air We going, Cyrus?" de-
manded his wife, following the dis
tracted old man as he led the oxen over
the crest Of the hill to the orchard bars.
Cyrus made no reply and his wife fol-
lowed him. Then she saw the bristling
stump fence across the railroad, and
the whole dreadful truth flashed upon
her. Cyrus had built fence to stop or
wreck the next train, and that was the
very train that Frank had written he
should take from Wilmington!
The village station was a mile be-
yond the Stackpole farm. The train
would not have even begun to slow
down when it passed through the or
chard. 1t was already getting dusk. 1t
would be pitch dark by the time the
train came along in just an hour.
Cyrus Stackpole never looked at his
wife, but worked with feverish haste,
and she did not interrupt him, for she
knew that every moment was precious.
The oxen strained nightly at the great
stumps, but they We're so crowded to-
gether and interlocked that it was hard
to get them off the track. Cyrus had
performed his defiant task unfortu-
nately well.
Light the lantern" cried the pant
ing old man at last. His wife took the
match he flung her and kindled the
slight flame in the dusty globe. Cyrus
bent and adjusted the chain anew by
the candles feeble light. Then the
oxen strained together once more, but
the biggest stump of all would not
move. The long, tough roots were
wedged between and under the rails.
"Godw groaned the old man. 1t was
the shortest Of prayers, but it was a
prayer and not an imprecation.
'Hark" cried the trembling old wife.
From far off through the darkness
came a faint rumbling sound. 1t was
the evening train from Wilmington!
"Cyrus," exclaimed the woman, red
light II stop 'em. I've heard so. Hain't
we got anything to make red light
with? Quickw
Cyrus disgorged the contents Of all
his pockets at one sweep. Among them
was an old fashioned red bandanna
handkerchief. His wife seized it, with
a cry of joy, and catching up the lam
tern, FASTENED down the track toward
the approaching train. She turned up
the wick of the lantern until it smoked
furiously. Then she wrapped the red
handkerchief around the globe, held
the lantern up in both hands and slow
ly swayed it to and fro.
The train was almost upon her be-
fore the engineer saw the faint red
signal. But the airbrakes did their
magic work, and the engine stopped
within 20 feet Of the last huge, bris-
Ting stump of Cyrus StackpoIes fence
tho i1pnn6 EpoDly StonlynOlo
was one Of the first passengers to leap
from the intercepted train.
"What in thunder-why, fathers old
orchard" he exclaimed. "And here's
mother| He caught a tottering, gray
haired figure in his strong arms. Mrs.
Stackpole, like all heroines, had first
accomplished her deed and then faint
ed away.
The railroad company did not enter
a complaint against Cyrus Stackpole.
His big, black bearded, healthy son
may have had something to do with
that and he may not. Very likely the
unrestricted and undisputed right of
way through the old mans orchard
was an inducement. At any rate, the
matter was dropped, and Cyrus Stack
pole proved to be so subdued in spirit
that only two days after his stump
fence disappeared from the track he
rode through his own orchard on one
of the detested trains on his way to
Wilmington with his son to buy a
brand new sniff Qf plot hos md Hcnn tho