urried back as fast as a full head of steam
could bring him, and thus averted a dreadful accident.

We found that our station signal light had been blown out.

Five minutes later both trains had departed, and we went to bed with
happy hearts, thankful for the almost miraculous prevention of a dire
calamity.

Christmas day, an incident occurred at the station which went a
considerable way toward settling our somewhat shattered nerves. The
station had not been scrubbed for quite a long time, and was beginning
to have anything but an inviting appearance.

After no end of inquiries as to where a washerwoman could be got, we
located one at the far end of the village. She was a full-blooded
squaw, and one of the most ill-favored specimens of the female sex I
had ever set eyes upon.

Two dollars a day was the price agreed upon. She must have made five
dollars every day she was at the station. She was a most industrious
thief; we could keep nothing in the place from her. Not only would she
unblushingly steal our groceries, but under the big loose blanket that
hung in folds around her tall, gaunt figure, she actually spirited
away our pots, kettles and pans.

She worked just as she pleased. Every half-hour or so she would squat
on the floor, pull out an intensely black clay pipe, and indulge in a
smoke. I love smoking, but I never failed to put as much distance as
possible between myself and the rank black fumes which poured with so
much gusto from her mouth. The last place she had to clean was the
telegraph office. She entered the office very reluctantly, and
furtively glanced at the telegraph instruments. "Me no like great
spirit," she said fearfully, pointing to the mass of wires under the
table. We talked to her for a long time and finally got her started
working. The instruments were cut out so as to make no noise.

Slowly the squaw drew nearer the table where the instruments were. As
she did so her coal-black eyes were actually glittering with nervous
dread. Just as she was stretching her long arm under the table, a
train steamed into the station. The conductor wanted orders. My
companion, forgetting the poor squaw, pulled out the switch and turned
on the current. Her arm must have been just touching the wires under
the table at that instant.

The next moment a terrific yell was uttered by our frantic
washerwoman, as she sprang to her feet and rushed for the door,
upsetting the bucket of dirty water in her meteor