top short of Anerley station on the way down, consequently the
signalman had no choice but to act as he did.

"Wire fused, I reckon, or filament burnt out. That's the worst of
electric light," commented the station-master when he received the
communication. "Get a light of some sort from the lamp-room, Webb.
They'll have to put up with that as far as Croydon. Move sharp. She'll
be along presently." Then he took up a lantern (for, in addition to fog,
a slight, sifting snow had come on about an hour previously, rendering
the evening one of darkness and extreme discomfort) and crossed by way
of the tunnel over to the down platform to be ready for the train's
arrival, having some little difficulty in progressing easily, for it so
happened that a local celebrity had been entertaining the newly elected
Lord Mayor that day, and in consequence both the up and the down
platforms were unusually crowded for the season and the hour.

Promptly at 5.42, the scheduled time for its arrival, the train came
pelting up the snow-covered metals from Penge, and made its first stop
since starting. It was packed to the point of suffocation, as it always
is, and in an instant the station was in a state of congestion. Far down
the uncovered portion of the platform Webb, the porter, who had now
joined the station-master, spied a gap in the long line of brightly
lighted windows, and the pair bore down upon it forthwith, each with a
glowing lantern in his hand.

"Here she is. Now, then, let's see what's the difficulty," said the
station-master, as they came abreast of the lightless compartment,
where, much to his surprise, he found nobody leaning out and making a
"to-do" over the matter. "Looks as if the blessed thing was empty,
though that's by no means likely in a packed train like the 5.28. Hallo!
Door's locked. And here's an 'Engaged' label on the window. What the
dickens did I do with my key? Oh, here it is. Now, then, let's see
what's amiss."

A great deal was amiss, as he saw the instant he unlocked the door and
pulled it open, for the first lifting of the lantern made the cause of
the darkness startlingly plain. The shallow glass globe which should
have been in the centre of the ceiling had been smashed, ragged
fragments of it still clinging to their fastenings, and the three
electric bulbs had been removed bodily. A downward glance showed him
that both these and the fragments of the broken globe lay on one seat,
partly wrapped in a wet