“It will save me a long pull through the snow.”
The operator led Ralph into his little office. As he did so Ralph noticed that a piece of bagging was tacked over one of the upper sashes and the floor covered with splintered glass. He had already observed that the operator wore a bandage over one eye, but he did not just then connect affairs in his urgency to get in communication with Preston.
This he soon did. He found the operator there aware of conditions. The crude message Ralph had sent astride the telegraph pole formed the basis for advising headquarters of what was going on. The Limited was safely on her way, and a special from the Junction was now starting to take No. 93 in tow and investigate the wreck.
Ralph sent a message to Glidden, more explicitly explaining affairs. He announced that he would return to the Junction on the first train he could catch.
He was pretty well satisfied with his work of the night, for he had done his level best and he felt sure there would be some further outcome when Bob Adair’s assistant reported.
“You seem to have had some trouble here,” observed Ralph, with a glance at the shattered window as he left the instrument.
“Yes, and this too,” said the operator, indicating his bandaged eye. “Nearly blinded.”
“How is that?” inquired Ralph.
“The west freight, about an hour ago. She passes on her usual whiz. About the middle of the train some one let fly a board--a box cover. It slashed through the window, took me in the face and keeled me clear over.”
“That is strange,” commented Ralph. “Are you sure it was thrown?”