read, but the unshed tears prevented her seeing the print. Looking at the clock she noticed that it was 2:51.
"Forty-nine is due in thirteen minutes," she said slowly. "But I never knew it to be on time. Wonder if it has left 'WB' yet? Believe I'll ask."
Reaching across the table she placed her hand upon the telegraph key and called "WB" half a dozen times. This was a junction point eight miles south of Lewistown. Receiving no reply, she closed the key, glanced instinctively at the semaphore levers, to further assure herself they were set to show a red signal.
"I'm not sleeply tonight, but I have the strangest feeling of languor. I wish Forty-nine had gone. If it gets much behind schedule time it may make lots of work for me, and I don't feel like taking train orders now. I wish Joe had waved to me when his train went by; it seems strange that the very first night after—after I learned of the awfully lonesome life I shall have to live, he should neglect to be out when his train passed here. I cannot understand it. Yet there must be a reason, for he is the best boy in the world—the very best boy in this world." This soliloquy was whispered as her head slowly dropped upon her arms folded on the table, and in a few seconds she was sound asleep.
********
Engineer George Whiteley had charge of Engine
