“Oh yes; I should think it would stand a siege. Look at this bar across these doors,” she said, with a laugh, as she slid the great bar of stout wood into its place, and left the shed shut up for the night.
“That is well, for there is more value in some of that stuff brought here to-night than thousands of dollars could replace,” the man said earnestly.
Nell looked worried. “I wish you had not told me; I shall be having bad dreams to-night,” she said, with a nervous laugh.
“I had to tell some one, and seeing that Joey Trip isn’t here, why, I had to tell you, for how was I to know that you wouldn’t just leave the place with the doors open, so that any one who chose might walk in and help himself? But you’ve got your head screwed on right, so now I’ve warned you, it will be safe.”
“Where are these valuable things consigned to?” asked Nell, as she and the conductor made their way out of the shed by the small side door.
“Some to one place, some to another; the smelter takes most. They’ll be sending down early in the morning, I expect, for the lot.”
“I wish they’d send to-night,” said Nell, with a sigh, knowing very well that it would fall to her lot to bear the responsibility.
The conductor laughed. Then, as time was up, he strolled back to the waiting cars, shouted an order to the engine driver as he went past, then, as the train began to move, swung himself on board. There were only three passengers, a man and two women, but there were some freight-cars laden with logs from the saw-mills at the Settlement, and one or two empty wagons.
A great silence seemed to fall on the lonely little depot after the engine and its train of cars had gone snorting and puffing down the valley, while the dusk of evening began to steal into the tree-shaded hollows of the hills, although higher up the last rays of sunset were lingering still.
Nell watched until the last trail of steam had disappeared round the bend in the valley, then, remembering that Joey Trip was unwell, she went to the house to ask what ailed him.