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Idle Hour Stories by Eugenia Dunlap Potts
page 5 of 204 (02%)
"You could not miss it if you tried. Keep straight ahead."

Soon large drops of rain came down, then faster and more furiously, till
the air was one vast sheet of water, and little rivers leaped madly
along the gullies and culverts. Forked lightning kept pace with the
pealing thunder, and heaven's own artillery seemed let loose.

Anything more dismal or dreary could not well be imagined, and gradually
the loneliness grew very oppressive. Every straggler had fled to
shelter, and the usual idlers had deserted the platform.

But I resolutely set to work at the dry statistics of the station-books,
with an occasional call to the wires, which were ticking like mad, so
fierce was the electric current.

It was near five o'clock when a long freight train came lumbering by,
switched off a car or two, then dragged its slow length onward. This
created a brief diversion, then once more I was deserted.

The next passenger train was not due till ten o'clock. I lit the lamps
and resigned myself with questionable patience to the intervening hours.
An agreeable interruption came in the form of my supper, which was
brought in a water-proof basket by a sort of jack-at-all-trades whom we
called Jake. Shaking himself like a great dog, he "lowed there wa'n't
much more water up yonder nohow."

"I hope not, indeed," I said, glad of the sound of a human voice.
"Jake!" I called, as he left the office, "come back as soon as you
can--I may need you."

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