The Washington times., 1902-02-02

over into the tender. His fingers dug
more viciously into the bundle of waste
that was fast becoming but fist full
She did not repeat the question, but
came down from the seat and touched
him on the arm. 1t was a tender, wo-
manly touch; to him it was the touch
of an angel.
oh" he said, as he looked into her
face, ''it was the same old trouble-got
| to boozin' drinkin'. you know Amt
many places a fellow can go after lie gets
through work at in the morning 'cept
saloons, an you know that won't do no
good" g.
I'm so ~" she said. 'I'n never
forget this ir-s
Then there was a, hoarse all aboard
shout from the rear of the train and he
reached over her Shoulder and giving
the bell rope jerk. sounded the tines
up warning. The engineer was climbing
up the other side. and fireman, whisper
ing good-by to her, took her by the arms
! and swung her gently to the platform.
She turned and pulling carnation from
the bunch at her waist threw it TO him
in the cab and he. eagerly picking it up.
placed 1t in the lantern globe near the
steam gauge.
Then Miss Hodson made a run for her
coach getting aboard just as the long
line began to swing around the curve in
front of the station. The rural loungers
left In the distance told each other what
they had seen and the roundhouse oiler
remarked between bites of a piece of to-
bacco that belonged TO the track walker
that Jim Marshall must be stuck on that
gal"
Miss Hodson threw herself down in the
seat and thought. Travelling about the
country with big theatrical company
had brought her many experiences, but
this was a new one
Then she called the girl with the short
black hair and told her all about it, and
that young lady, who prided herself on
being quite observing. said she remem-
bered that the engineer was always lean
ing far out of his cab window whenever
he pulled up TO the Thirtv-eighth Street
station, but Miss Hodson did not remem-
Der it.
To her It was all very strange, more
like story, and naturally so to one who
devoured novels from one journeys end
to another.
With few stops. on they dashed up the
steep incline OF the Blue Ridge, through
deep cuts of red clay, almost grazing
great black rocks, now in and out a
tunnel; then picturesque view of val
ley below; past scores of yellow painted
depots, where the only evidences of an
outer world TO the few that hung about
the stations were the laundering train
with its big iron arm outstrctched for
the hanging mail bag and the sack that
was hurled out of the postal ear door
as the putting, snOrtinR monster plunged
deeper into the darkening pines.
And so the Sunday afternoon dragged
along, a tiresome. wearing day on the
players who slept, read, chatted, sazed
out of the windows and otherwise en-
ployed themselves. Miss Hodson belong
ed to the class that was staring out of
the windows. She enjoyed the scenery,
and then she had thoughts that made
reading difficult and conversation unbear-
able.
Once the train rounded long horse
shoe curve and she leaned out and saw
the two engines grinding ahead as if
they we're finding their burden too heavy
for the mountain heights. As she watch
ed the powerful locomotives working
with beautiful PRECISION she saw the
fireman-her ireman-put his head out
of the cab window and looking back,
wave his cap at her
She waved her handkerchief and then
II, gave the whistle a long blast and the
mines took it up and hurled it against the
r,goed walls as the train left the curve
for the straight track ahead
Great blue clouds banked hesvily in
the west. as the evening shadows came, |