Jennie Bartlett's father and mother had been suddenly called away for the night to Parnassus Centre, where Mrs. Bartlett's sister had been taken very ill, and Jennie was left to keep the toll-gate alone. It was not a difficult task, for scarcely any one travelled over the Barrington Road after nine o'clock, and those who did passed through the open gate without paying toll.
But even if it had been harder, Jennie would have been equal to it. She had lived at the toll-gate ever since she was a baby, and knew perfectly well what to charge, and how to make the proper change. Indeed, she often kept the gate for her father when he was at home, and people passing through would be apt to wonder how so bright and pretty a girl could grow up in so lonesome a place. Jennie, however, did not mind the lonesomeness. Her dearest wish was to go off to boarding-school; but so long as she was at home it mattered little to her that Barrington was three miles off on the one hand, and Leicester ten miles on the other, and that there was scarcely a house between. She even liked the solitude, and was almost sorry when the telephone connecting Barrington with Leicester made a connection by the way with the toll-gate. Before, they seemed to be out of the world, and the people coming through the gate were like visitors from another sphere; now, the frequent ringing of the call-bell reminded her that civilization was not so far distant, after all.
On this particular night there were not likely to be even the usual number of passers-by. It was dark and threatening. Looking out of the door about nine o'clock, Jennie could hardly see more than a hundred feet either up or down the road. It would be a bad night, she thought, for the gate to get accidentally shut; anybody coming along might run into it without warning; for that matter, people might run into the posts on either side. She hung a lantern on one post to prevent this accident, and going in the house, locked the doors and went to bed. The fact that she was alone in the house did not disturb her in the least, and in ten minutes she was fast asleep.
Some time in the night she was suddenly awakened by the ringing of the telephone bell. She listened confusedly to hear if it rang three times, which was the toll-gate signal, or oftener, to call up some of the other people on the same wire. Two of the connections she knew were in Leicester, the third was their own, the fourth was in the Barrington Bank, the fifth in the tannery, and the sixth in the central office at Barrington. In her bewilderment Jennie could not at first determine how many times it did ring; but at last she decided it was six—for the Barrington central office. That did not mean the toll-gate, and Jennie prepared to turn over for another nap, when a sudden thought aroused her. It was certainly after midnight, and the central office did not keep open later than twelve o'clock. The bank, too, was shut up, and so was the tannery; on the whole line she was probably the only person who could hear the bell. What if it should be something important! Indeed, it would hardly ring at that time of night unless it were important. Quickly jumping out of bed, she ran to the instrument, put the receiver to her ear, and called through the transmitter, "Hello! hello!"
A voice came back to her, so distinct that it seemed almost in the same room, saying, "Hello! is that the central office?" The tone was quick and sharp, and Jennie felt sure that something must have happened.
"No, sir," she called; "it's the toll-gate. I'm Jennie Bartlett."
"Tell your father to come here right away," the voice said; "it's very important."
Jennie felt a little sinking at her heart. "Father's away," she said, "and I'm here alone."
She heard the voice exclaim something in an impatient tone, and then the sound of two or three other people talking as though there was some doubt as to what could be done.
"Can I do anything?" she inquired, almost hoping that she could not.