specific against most ha'nts, though by no means able to scare away
all of them. Those at Dead Man's Crossin' are peculiarly malignant and
hard to scare. Maum Jinkey Delette saw one there once, coming down the
track faster than an express train, bigger than a cow, and waving
both his legs in his hands. Poor old Maum Jinkey was so scared that
she chattered her new false teeth out of her mouth, and she never
found those teeth to the day of her death, but had to mumble along as
best she could without them.

Hurrying by Dead Man's Crossin', the workmen stumbled over a man lying
beside the tracks; his clothing was torn to shreds, he was wet with
the heavy night dew and covered with dirt, cinders, and partly
congealed blood, for his right leg had been ground to pulp. Peering at
this horrible object in the wan dusk of the early morning, they
thought he was dead like most of the others found there.

For a moment the men hesitated, wondering whether it wouldn't be
better to leave him there to be found and removed by folks with more
time at their disposal. One doesn't like to lose time and be
consequently fined, on account of stopping to pick up a dead tramp;
particularly when Christmas is drawing near and money so much needed
that every penny counts.

The thing on the ground, regaining for a fraction of a second a glint
of half-consciousness, quivered, moaned feebly, and lay still again.
Humanity prevailing, the Poles looked about for help, but as yet the
place was quite deserted. Grumbling, they wrenched a shutter off the
Agent's window, lifted the mangled tramp upon it, and made straight
for the Parish House; when accidents such as this happened to men such
as this, weren't the victims incontinently turned over to the Parish