The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1912-05-07
CHAPTER |.
March Com

warren ZONES In Like the Lion
The train, which had roared through
whitening gale of sleet all the way
up from New York. came to a stand
still. with many an ear-splitting sigh
alongside the little station, and re.
iuctant porter opened his yestibule
door to descendsto the snow-swept plat.
FORM solitary passenger had
reached the journeys end. The swirl
OF snow and sleet screaming out of the
blackness at the end of the station
building enveloped the porter in an
inetant. and cut his ears and neck with
singing force as he turned his back
against the gale. A pair Of lonely,
half-obscured platform lights cleaned
fatuously at the top OF their Icy posts
at each end OF the station; two or
three frostincrusted windows glowed
DULY In the side of the building, while
one shone brightly where the operator
sat waiting for the passing of No. 33
An order had been issued for the
stopping Of the fast express at B.,
noteworthy concession in these days
OF premeditated haste. Not in the pre-
vious career of flying 33 had It even so
much as slowed down for the ineig-
nifcant little station. through which
It swooped at midnight the whole year
round. Just before pulling out of New
York on this eventful night the con.
ductor received command to stop
80 at B. and let down a single pas
senger, a circumstance which meant
trouble for every dispatcher along the
line.
The woman who got down at B
In the wake of the shivering but defer
entail porter, and who passed by the
conductors without lifting her face,
was without hand luggage of any de-
scription. She was heavily yelled, and
warmly clad in furs. At eleven o'clock
that night she had entered the com
partment in New York. Throughout
the thirty miles or more she had sat
alone and inert beside the snow
clogged window, peering through veil
and frost into the night that whizzed |
past the pane, seeing nothing yet ap-
parently intent on all that stretched |
beyond. AS still, as immobie as |
death Itself she had held herself from |
the moment OF departure to the instant |
that brought the porter with the word |
that they we're whistling for B.
Without word she arose and fol- |
lowed him to the vestibule, where she
watched him as he unfastened the
outer door and lifted the trap. A
single word escaped her lips and he
held out his hand to receive the crum-
pied bill she clutched in her gloved
fingers. He did not look at It, He
knew that It would amply reward him
for the brief exposure he endured on
the lonely, windswept platform of
station, the name of which he did not
know.
She took several uncertain steps In
the direction OF the station windows
and stopped, as II bewildered. Already
the engine was pounding the air with
quick, vicious snorts in the effort to
get under way; the vestibule trap and
door closed with bang; the wheels
were creaking. A bitter wind smote
her in the face; the wet. hurtling sleet
crashed against the thin veil, binding
her.
The door of the waiting room across
the platform opened and man rushed
toward her
Mrs. Wrandall?" he called above
the roar of the wind.
She advanced quickly.
yes" I
What night" he said, as much to
himself as to her. Pm sorry you
would insist on coming tonight. To
morrow morning would have satisfied
tho"
is this Mr. Drake?"
They were being blown through the
door into the waiting room as she put
the question. Her voice was muffied. l
The man in the great fur coat put his
weight against the door to close It.
Yes, Mrs. Wrandall have done
all that could be done under the cir |
| am sorry to tell you !