The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1916-10-13
Was 1t an
Anniversary Ghost?
By WILLARD BRAKEMAN
By WILLARD

One night-it was IL o'clock-a cab
man was jogging along through Wall
street, New York. half asleep on his
box, when he was acc0sted from the
sidewalk by a mar whose apparel
made. coachy blink his eyes to assure
himself that he saw Alright. To begin
at the top Of his head, he wore a
beaver hat with a large bell crown and
a rim curled at the sides. His coat
was very high in the collar, his neck
tie was voluminous lace, the buttons
on his clothes were brass, his breaches
were what we call knickerbockers.
Coachy drove to the sidewalk. and
the gentleman, without asking permits
sion, opened the door and stepped in
side.
ITO Greenwich" he called as he
closed the door behind him.
up Greenwich street, sir?"
YES"
That part Of New York which was
originally Greenwich Village is several
miles from where the stranger entered
the coach, and the cabman would rath-
err have declined to make a fare so
late in the evening. But there was
something about the stranger that was
compelling. When the cab reached
Greenwich and cabby asked for fur
Their instructions the man inside only
said, "Drive on" Cabby seemed awed
by the tone in which the words were
spoken and dared not ask another uties-
ton, so he drove on in the direction
he was going, northward, till he reach
ed the river bank. The man inside
stepped from the cab without calling
on coachy to stop, and when he touch
ed the ground there seemed not to be
the slightest shock. AS he walked
away he fixed his eyes on the cabman
with a look that made him forget all
about the omission to pay the fare.
Indeed, a cold chill ran down the
mans back. Going to the margin Of
the river, his figure seemed to float
along, growing more and more indis-
tinct till 1t was lost, as cabby thought,
in the water. But this could not be.
for there came from where he had dis
appeared a sound of oars. The sound
passed up the river. gradually dying
away in the distance.
Now, although the stranger had CIV
ell no orders to the cabman to await
his return, the latter felt no power to
do otherwise. He did not think that
by going away he would lose the mon
ey he had already earned; he remained
fixed where he was by the look his
fare had given him when he walked
away with that unearthly tread.
1t was the seaso when the days are
long and dawn begins about 3 o'clock.
Coachy sat for perhaps an hour. per-
haps two-he could never recall how
long it was-waiting there On the river
bank. with no human being near, for
he says that he was not conscious of
the surrounding traffic of the present
day. he saw about him only the
green bank of the river, behind him
the village. in which all were wrapped
in slumber. But he is not sure that
he was awake. not sure but that he
was dreaming. At any rate. he was
oblivious to the strangers return, for
the first he knew of it he heard a voice
ordering him to drive home. Rousing
himself and looking down from the
box, he saw his fares face thrust
without the window, looking up at
him. The cabman will never forget
that face. 1t was singularly hand
some, though SO pale as to be rather
Of the dead than of the living. The
expression was that Of one who had
committed some dreadful crime. one
who had killed some one. But in it
there was no remorse. 1t was rather
triumph.
"Home" said the stranger.
The cabman did not know and did
not dare ask where home was. He
knew that he had taken up his fare on
Wall street. and for that location he
headed.
In the twilight the city seemed
changed. All the landmarks of a me.
tropolis were missing.
Turning out of Broadway at Wall
street, he drove down till he reached
the point where Broad joins it. This
was where he had taken up his fare.
Here, too. was not the office Of the
great banking house which is there.
but a small brick dwelling. The
stranger called on him to stop. and he
drove up to the curb.
Coachy says that when this singular
being alighted he cast his eye at a
dwelling on the opposite side Of Wall
street a short distance down toward
the East river and looked for q mo-
ment at 1t with malignant triumph:
then, turning, without mentioning the
money he owed for his ride, he mount
ed the steps of a dwelling before him
and seemed to pass through the door
without opening it.
Coachy was found that morning in 4
stupor on his box and about to fall.
He was removed to a hospital. whence
he did not emerge for several weeks.
When he did so he narrated the adven-
ture Of that memorable night to a
gentleman who happened to be a
scholar. All the information he re-
ceived was this:
The house the strange man entered