Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1916-02-27
NV 7HEN the train pulled out of
W. Franklin at eight-forty-five, the
w first snow-storm of the winter
w was settling down to business,

w was settling down to business.
The conductor, craning his neck out from
the steps of the smoker as the car slid
past the telegrapher's bow-window, re-
ceived a wet portion of the storm beneath
his collar, and growed under his breath.
He was beginning to dread winter
station platforms six inches deep in slush,
trampled snow on the car-steps, aisle mat
tings wet from tracked-in snow, in every
coach reek of damp wooden garments,
of rubber and leather scorching against
the steam-pipes, of unaired humanity. 1t
was no fit job for an old man subject to
lumbago and rheumatism, he thought.
Opening the door of the smoking-car,
he went in. He thrust his right arm
through the ring of his lantern, cuddling
it against his side, and took out his ticket
punch. The inadequate lamps showed
his ace-close-mouthed, scanned and rug
ged; in every wrinkle tolerant with the
humorous, grim tolerance of a man that
every day comes close to the weaknesses
ofhumannatur and every day knows them
redeemed by courage or loyalty or pity.
On the grinding platforms between the
smoker and the next car behind, he
met the trainman.
"Charley," lie said in his terse voice of
authority, "wake up the young fellow
light overcoat-middle of the car back
there. See he gets off at Mead. Old
Griffin's boy. Been up to Buffalo. Soused.
Young fool. Help him off.
He went on into the ladies' coach.
The car was badly lighted, and the air
was heavy. The car swayed drearily, and
the occupants of its gritty red velvet seats
swayed with it, benumbed, in state of
soggy WEAKNESS. On the right-hand side
of the car, few seats from the rear, he
came to the only woman passenger that
had got on at Franklin. Rather absent
mindedly,-for he was thinking how the
snow always drifted on the Fishbasket
grade,-he held out his hand for the
ticket.
IL haven't ticket" her voice came
up to him.
He brought his mind and his gaze back
to his passenger. She had peeled off her
glove, and he saw her slim white hand
fumbling in her wrist-bag. Il didn't have
time to get ticket at Franklin. How
much will it be?"
"Where to-"
"Oh!" She gave little nervous laugh,
and then he noticed that the hand that
held the purse was trembling. "To Cen
terville Junction, please. How much?"
"A dollar eighty-ive, returned the con-
ductor.
He shifted the lantern slightly, and it
flashed from his passengers hands to her
face. The conductors eyes grew keen
with surprise.
"Evening, Lois!' he exclaimed. "Didn't
know you. Don't often see you going
this way"
His passenger gave start and looked
up at him, jerking her head back as if he
had startled her beyond control. The
stark light of the clean, bright lantern fell
upon her young girls face. The lips were
parted little and the eyes wide with
confusion.
"Oh!" she gasped; and added, STAN
mering: "How do you do, Mr.. Jackson?
I-didnt-know you were on this train!"
"Have the night run just now, said the
conductor pleasantly. And through his
brain flashed Scared! Up to some
thing. What's she going to the Junction
forp" Then aloud he asked nOisinp his