"Why did she stop?" I asked.
"Oh, some idea. Prob'ly forgot where she was. Nice lady. Makes a man sick."
"Tell ye what I think," said Lewis. "I think there's women start across a track to take a chance. If they get hit it's all right, and if they don't it's all right. Same as girls pull leaves off a flower to see if some fellow loves 'em. There was—"
"She didn't do that," put in Bronson.
"I don't say she did, but some might. There was a woman up at Larchmont walked across in front of me the other day. Had a baby, too, in her arms. Now, why should a woman start over four tracks just as I was coming, and walk slow, if she didn't want to take a chance? Mind you, I was on the far side, and she had to cross three tracks before she got to mine. And all the time I had the whistle wide open. Why, a dog would have heard that whistle and got out o' the way."
"Did you—" I began.
"Hit her? I didn't know at the time, it was such a close call. Thought I had, but I found out afterward she got past—by the skin of her teeth. Bet you she'd had some trouble. Thought she might as well quit the game and take the baby along. Then, mebbe, she was glad when she got across safe."
"Can't tell," reflected Bronson.
"I b'lieve there's such a thing as people getting drawn to a train. I don't mean by the suction, but drawn by the idea of its going so blamed fast and being so strong, especially people sick or down on their luck. Now, last year I was coming through Rye one morning, and as I struck the bridge after that reverse curve I saw two young fellows running along the No. 3 track away from me. I was on No. 1 track, so they were all right, but as I came up they both swung over to No. 1, and I cut 'em all to bits. Turned out they were a couple of lads that had tramped it down from Boston, goin' to enlist. They were weak and hungry, and I think they just gave up to the train because they couldn't help it."
"Might be," said Bronson.