When the freight from the south whistled that afternoon, I had nerved myself for a few hours of torture. The caboose stopped away down in the yard and as I stood on the platform reflecting on what a martyr I was going to make of myself, I saw the conductor assist my visitor to the ground, and start with her along the side of the train toward the depot.

A call from the instrument drew me inside, and when I came out again they were near the platform. I stood and stared in amazement. A neat, stylish little figure clad in gray, a jaunty hat, from beneath which the prettiest imaginable brown curls fell in clustering beauty above the prettiest face I thought I had ever seen. She was laughing merrily at some remark from her escort and the air seemed filled with rippling music. As he ascended the platform steps to where I stood transfixed and dumb with amazement, she gave me but one glance of her merry blue eyes and was about to pass on into the office whe the conductor said:

"A moment, Miss Rankin. Let me introduce Mr. Saunders, the agent here. Fred, this is Miss Carrie Rankin, late of Edmond."

    S he stared at me with a look of unutterable surprise, and had a mirror been thrust in front of me I would no doubt have seen reflected an expression of equal amazement. For a moment she stood glancing first at myself and then at the conductor, and then a peal of merry laughter ran out from her pouting lips, and extending her hand, she said:

"Oh that monstrous fibber. Tom Armstrong! If I ever get within reach of him again I'll pull every hair out of his head! Why he told me you were an old man, Mr. Saunders,and --and--and--that you were humpbacked and had lost one of your limbs in a railway accident some years ago. He pictured you such a fright that I hesitated long before deciding to come here. I was actually afraid of you!"

"I'll kill him on sight!" I cried, retaining the pretty hand which rested in mine. "He led me to believe you an aged widow with two children and a face that would set my teeth on edge when you should present it before me, and that you had a temper which a buzz saw could not scratch. However in that glad awakening from that hideous dream I almost feel that I can forgive him, and as the frightful old widow no longer confronts me, permit me to bid you a hearty welcome to your old home. I trust you may enjoy the few hours you are to remain here. You have the freedom of the office, and of the great city."

    "Thank you. It is very good of you, and since my humpbacked ogre has limped away on his one leg, I will enter his den with no fear. How drearily natural the old place looks" (taking off her hat and throwing it on the table). "How many lonely days and nights I spent here, fearing each rattle of the window by the wind might be a tramp or prowling Indian, and every sound from the outside at night might come from the dreaded Dalton gang, lying in wait to rob a train. May I look in my old room?"

"Certainly."

"Same cheerless place. Yes, more cheerless, for really, Mr. Saunders, you do not keep it so neat as I did. When did you sweep it last?"

She glanced into my face with an arch look and smilingly awaited my reply.

"I think it was one day last week, or was it the week before? It was the day the superintendent came over the road on a special. The sprucing up of depots by agents--male agents, that is--is always regulated by special visits, you know."

We passed on into the freight room, such only in name, for no goods save section men's supplies had ever been stored therein. From the freight room a ladder led up to the loft between the ceilings of the office and sleeping room and the roof, and, pointing up at the dust-covered rafters, my fair visitor said:

    "I had a dreadful time up there one day. The insulated copper wires from the instruments run up through the office ceiling, you know, and connect with the line out under the eaves of the depot. I cut out my instruments for a heavy thunderstorm and when I cut in again after the storm had passed I found the wire open on both sides of me. Fearing the trouble was in my office I began a close search for it; and finding the wires below all right, I climbed up the ladder to the loft. Up in that dark, black, dusty, sooty place I found both wires burned off by lightning; and what a time I had repairing them! It was very hot and close up there and I had left my handkerchief on the telegraph table, and frequently wiped my perspiring face with my smutty hands. When I climbed down again you should have seen me!

I had that morning put on a white summer dress mama had just sent down to me, and it was ruined and my face was covered with soot. What made it more horrible was that the passenger going south whistled just as I descended from the loft and not knowing my face was in such a horrid condition, I gathered up my train mail and went out on the platform and such a guying as the train men gave me! There was a grinning face at every car window as the train pulled by. Oh dear! what a fright I found myself when I looked in my mirror!"

    As we sat in the office during the evening chatting, she grew more and more vivacious and jolly, and our merry laughter rang out in marked contrast to the usual stillness which prevailed about the dreary station. We went to supper at the section house, and on returning she went at once to the key and asked the dispatcher if the train then nearly due was on time.

"No. 4 delayed by washout below Guthrie," came the reply. "Can't say how soon the track will be repaired."

"Oh dear! My usual luck!" she said. "I seldom find a train on time when I want to go anywhere."

"Are you then so anxious to terminate what has been to me a most delightful visit?" I asked.

"Oh no. I assure you I have enjoyed it fully as much as yourself, but I fear I will become tiresome to you with my senseless chatter."

I felt like assuring her that a lifetime spent in her society would not weary me. The time sped switfly until the gray shades of evening began to gather, and I lighted the office lamp. No. 4 was reported safely over the track and would reach Red Rock about 9 o'clock.

Excusing herself for a moment to go to the cooler in the freight room for a drink of ice water, Miss Rankin passed from the room, and had scarcely disappeared ere I heard heavy footsteps on the platform, and a moment later the front door was thrown open and four masked men entered and covered me with murderous looking revolvers.

    "Git away from that table, young feller, an' don't you make a move t'ords that tellygraph till the train comes, or it'll find a piece o' baggage 'yar it ain't looking fur. How soon is she due?"

I am not naturally a coward, but this harsh transformation from a blissful dream of love to the very precincts of death unnerved me, and confess I was thoroughly frightened. Then came the thought that Miss Rankin would return in a moment and what indignities might not be offered her by these members of the notorious Dalton gang (for such I knew them to be); cruel, reckless men who had less regard for women than for dumb brutes which carried them to places of safety after their lawless raids.

"The train is past due now, but has been delayed by a washout below Guthrie and may not be here for several hours yet," I replied. "I'll ask about her."

I made a move toward the telegraph table, hoping by word to warn the dispatcher, but halted at the ominous clicking of a pistol.

"No, you don't," the leader said. "If you want that pale hide o' your'n tattooed with cold lead, you jest make another break like that! Yer lyin' about that train, an' we're agoin' to camp right 'yar with you till it comes, fur we have business with it. Sit down on that bench."

    I could but obey. The mental torture I endured was terrible, not only through fear of Miss Rankin's return to the office, but through the knowledge that an attempt was to be made to rob the train, and the lives of good men might be sacrificed defending the property entrusted to their care. How could the robbers be frustrated? If I could be reach the key and flash the words "train robbers" and sign my office call, the dispatcher would hear and understand; for in those troublous days, the keen-eared night guardians of the company's interests were ever on the alert for such intelligence.

For half an hour I weighed the matter of a desperate attempt in my mind. I had lost fear of my charming visitor's safety, feeling satisfied by her absence that she had heard the robbers and was concealed in the freight room or had escaped by the back door and gone to the section house for aid. But what assistance could come from there? I knew there was not a firearm in the section house and the section men would seek safety in flight at the first intimation that I was in the hands of the Daltons.

I at last determined to make one desperate attempt to warn the train dispatcher and thus save the train from robbery. I did not believe the villains would shoot, and felt that although they might use me roughly for my attempt, my duty to the company demanded that I should make it and meet the consequences.

    Waiting until I heard the dispatcher respond to a report of the belated train from Mulhall, but two stations below, and knowing that he was at his table, I rose and bounded to my instrument.

"Trai--"

I got no further. There was a loud report, I felt a heavy blow accompanied by a stinging sensation on my right thigh and sank to the floor.

"You cussed fool, that's yer game, is it? Lucky fur you my gun went off afore I got it raised, or that shod'd a tuk you whar' it'd a done more good!"

They picked me up and threw me roughly on the bench, cursing me in a fearful manner for my attempt to thwart them in their plans. I knew I had been shot through the thigh but from the absence of severe pain felt sure the bone had not been broken.

The train must be nearing Wharton, the next station south, and after passing there no earthly power could prevent it from falling into the hands of the scowling villains who sat near me. The instrument had been quiet for a long time and I laid trembling with anxiety expecting every moment to hear Wharton report the passing of No. 4.

    "Click! Click! Br-r-r-r-r click!"

What caused the instrument to act so queerly? Then in clear clickings I heard the dispatcher's call. Wharton was about to report the train--but no! My own office signal was signed to the call. What did it mean? The dispatcher responded and my heart gave a great throb of delight as I heard these words flashed over the wire:

"This is Cr at Red Rock. Sd held by train robbers in office. I have wire tapped in loft. Stop No. 4, Wharton, quick!"

"I heard that, will hold 4 here all right," Wharton broke in and said.

An order was sent to him to hold the train for further orders, and an explanatory message sent to the conductor.

Thank God the train was safe! I understood it all now. The brave little girl had heard the robbers when they entered, had listened to our conversation, and recalling her former experience in the dirty loft, had climbed up there in the darkness, broken one of the wires and, striking the ends together, had been able to communicate with the dispatcher. In the stillness of the night I knew she could hear every click of the instrument below, and work as effectively as if sitting at the telegraph table.

    "God bless you, little girl, you have done great work this night. Special train with sheriff's posse will leave in five minutes and make run to Red Rock in 45 minutes. Remain where you will be safe in case of a fight with robbers."

"Oh! I am so fearful Sd has been killed," I heard her say. "I heard them threaten to kill him and heard a shot followed by a shuffling of feet."

In a tone of voice so loud I knew she could hear it, I said:

"Men, I have been shot in the thigh and am in pain. This bench is a hard bed for a wounded man. Won't you carry me in and lay me in the next room?"

"Wa't do we keer how you suffer after that bad break o' yours? Lay still, or you'll get more of it!"

I heard the little heroine report the words to the dispatcher, and felt that my object had been accomplished and her anxiety relieved. In a moment came a message intended for my ears:

"Brace up, Fred, for help is coming. We've got the best of this game, but I am distressed at your condition, old fellow. Grin and bear it. I will be with you the minute the train gets here--Cr."