The Washburn times. [volume] (Washburn, Wis.) 1896-1976, 1908-12-17
In a Signal Tower.

levers controlling the SemaphoreS which
direct the engineers OF passing trains.
They are raised high above the tracks,
and those located out in a sparsely set
tied country are lonely places. At that
time some Of the towers were worked
by women, and l was one of these
women. Indeed, l was a girl of twenty.
NV duties were not onerous. l had
time for sewing or fancy work or mu-
sic. the latter of which l was very
fond. I had the night watch, and /
and my colleague of the day watch
kept our quarters in spick and span
condition. with plants in the windows
indeed, everything to make the place
hOmelike.
Our tower was some distance from
any house, but 1 was never lonely or
afraid, for at the approach of danger
1 could lock myself in, and with arms
and ammunition the place had great
advantages for defense But / never
thought of defending myself, for 1
could see no reason why 1 should be
attacked.
One evening shortly before dark I
was singing, accompanying myself on
nv guitar. I did not hear a footstep
ascending, and suddenly, looking back
Of me, I saw a man standing in the
room. He was quite respectfully dress
ed. but there was something in his
face I did not like. Bowling to me
deferentially, he said:
pardon me for this intrusion.
heard the music and was surprised
that it should come from a railroad
watch tower. l am very fond of
music, and your voice is delicious
Would you mind my sitting here" TAX
ing a seat, "while you sing?'
/ was not deceived by his smooth
tongue, but what could I do? I must
meet deception by deception. 1 ap-
peared flattered by his approval! and
continued my singing, though with a
trembling voice. The song was "In
the Cleaning" It was very appro-
pirate, but l was not thinking of the
cleaning. l was thinking how might
outwit some nefariOus scheme l was
sure the man had in view. It occurred
to me to play Miss Simplicity. AS soon
as I had finished the song l began to
talk about music, how l dotted on it
and how I felt an immediate liking for
any one who loved it. But the man
soon turned the subject to my work,
asking me all manner of questions
with regard to 1.-THE levers, the sema-
phores and how 1 threw the trains
on to the right track.
I judged from this that he was there
rather with some object in view con-
nected with the railroad than myself
personally. 1 made it appear that l
was pleased to tell him what he wished
to know and talked necessarily in or
der that l might keep him on that sub
ject, hoping to stave off any intentions
he might have with regard to me.
"Now, suppose" he said, "a train
should come along. What's the next
trainT
"The Bentford express"
"Well, you wish to put it on the
right track. What do you dO?'
81 pull this lever"
"And If you wished it to take the
right hand track of the Y, q short dis
lance up the track, what would you
do?"
"T would pull this lever" putting my
hand on another.
Him. It's very interesting. What a
simple system when you once know
it."
Every"
He looked at the clock, rather nerv-
ously, 1 thought, and listened. There
was a distant rattle Of train.
'Is that the expressY" he asked.
ct have no doubt it is"
The expression on his face began to
change. The interested look he had
thus far worn gave place to one Of res
olution. He walked back and forth,
and saw him put his hand to his hip.
I was satisfied that this was to make
sure his weapon was in its proper
place, though I did not see why he
needed it for a girl like me. Perhaps
he was going to shoot the engineer.
When the train came within a short
distance Of the tower stepped to the
levers and put my hand on one Of them.
NV visitor stopped, evidently so as not
to be seen from below.
mot that" he said from behind; mot
that one; the other. Throw the train
on the right hand track of the Y"
I heard a click and, looking back,
saw the muzzle Of revolver pointing
at me. 1 pulled the lever he ordered
me to pull, and the train went thunder
ing by.
Taking a pair Of nippers from his
pocket. the man cut the wires connect
ing my telegraph instrument with the
main line and, taking a piece Of the
wire with him, ran out. and hurried
down the stairs. locked the door and,
staggering to the window, looked out.
He was running after the train. He
turned and said:
"Goodby, sweetheart. You sing like
a nightingale"
AS soon as he was out of sight / fell
on the floor in a dead faint. Then,
coming to myself, I got up and, weak
as I was, danced. When he had asked
me how to throw the train on to the
wrong course had told him the way
to put it on the right one.
was called on the wire from an
other station and, not replying, a mes
senger was soon sent to learn the
cause of my silence. Since there was
no damage done, the missing wire was
the only confirmation Of my story. 1t
was enough, and I received a liberal