oard to the
engine"--Margraf listened with all his remaining strength--"in order to
stop the train before it ran into the Ramsgate express, but apparently
was too late."

"But what was up with the driver, and where was the front guard in the
meanwhile?"

"Well, it appears from what the front guard says--marvellous how he
escaped with hardly a scratch--both these men had been drugged, and as
they were both of them to have run the mail train to the Continent
to-night, things look very fishy."

Margraf nearly fainted in his efforts to listen more intensely.

"They were changed on to this train at the last moment, and hence this
accident. The rear guard, poor fellow, was shockingly mangled. Stone
dead, of course; and leaves, I understand, a wife and child. There will
no doubt be a collection made for him. He was a plucky fellow."

"Does anyone know his name?" asked one.

"Yes; his name was Charlie Osborne."

There was a heartrending groan from the cushions and rugs.

"Here," cried a young medical student among the party to a passing
surgeon, "you'd better come and have a look at this poor chap. He isn't
as dead as you thought he was."

[Illustration: THE SURGEON CAME AND LOOKED AT MARGRAF.]

The surgeon came and looked at Margraf.

"Isn't he?" he said, in his cool, professional way. "He is a good deal
farther gone than I thought. He couldn't be gone much farther."

_From Behind the Speaker's Chair._

IV.

(VIEWED BY HENRY W. LUCY.)

ABOUT INDENTED HEADINGS.

I suppose if anyone has a right to indulge in the convenience of
indented headings when writing a discursive article, I may claim a share
in the privilege. When I retired from the editorship of a morning
newspaper, a not obtrusively friendly commentator wrote that my chief
claim to be remembered in that connection was that I had invented
sign-posts for leading articles. But he was careful to add, lest I
should be puffed up, this was not sufficient to establish editorial
reputation.

It is true; but it is interesting to observe how the way thus adventured
upon has grown crowded. The abstentions indicate a curious and
interesting habitude ingrained in the English Press. Whilst most of the
weekly papers, not only in the provinces but in London, have adopted the
new fashion, no daily paper in London, and in the country only one here
and there, has followed it. That is a nice distinction, illustrating a
peculiarity of our honoured profession. A