Democratic Sentinel, Volume 17, Number 23, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 23 June 1893 — A FIGHT IN THE DARK. [ARTICLE]

A FIGHT IN THE DARK.

The Last Night of an Old Telegrapher’s Career. “That scar bn my check,” said an oldtime telegrapher, “is a reminder of the last night of telegraphic career.” “Some fifteen years ago I was night operator at a station on one of the Western roads. I found it very and often resorted to various schemes to catch a uap. One plan was to stretch a string from the office across the track and tic tho coal scuttle to it. Passing trains cut the string, letting the scuttlefall with a bang. It always woke me,, but like most night men I was lazy, and’ tried to devise something to save going out at all after once fixing it, which was accomplished by making an apparatus similar to a whirligig out of wire. It swung on a pivot which was fastened near the edge of the platform. The wire projected out near enough to the rail to be struck by passing trains and knocked around parallel to the track. To one end i tied a stout string which, when lying down, I fastened to my hand or wrist. It never failed to wake me at the first jerk, when I would raise my arm until the train passed; then all I had to do was stretch the string again, and it was in position for the next “One night, after reporting a train, I lay down, fixing the string to my wrist, as usual. I had not slept long when li was awakened by a tug on the string. It surprised me, as there was no sound of a train outside. I listened, and thought 1’ heard the sound of footsteps on the platform. “Slipping tho string from my wrist, I arose and. taking my revolver from the drawer, slipped it into my pocket, just as the waiting-room door almost noiselessly opened. Had the person walked; boldly in, it is doubtful would I have taken that precaution. His stealthiness, however, aroused my suspicions, and as there was a large amount of money in the safe, that came in on an evening, train, I feared that my late visitor might bo a desperado. There was no light in the waiting room, except that thrown by tho office lamp through between the wicket wires, which separated the rooms. I moved over towards the lamp, when tho footsteps approached the window, presumably to fix the lamp wick. My back was toward tho window. Om tho wall in front of mo hung a small mirror in which I could see tho window reflected. Presently I saw a revolver pointed at me and hoard a voice say: ‘ Hands up,’ or something similar. Turning the lamp out quickly I dropped to tho floor, and none too soon, for a bullet whizzed over my head and shattered the lamp to pieces. By that I knew that I had a desperate man to deal with,, and one who would not hesitate to takemy life, in order to accomplish his end; namely, secure the money that was in tho safe.

“To mo tho darkness was impenetrable, but knowing tho location by the window I instinctively fired in that direction. His weapon rung out almost simultaneously from the other end of tho wicket partition. He had fired through thesmall opening between the wires. V quickly iqpved over to and partly behind the safe. For a few moments all was silent save the thumping of my heart. It was not for long, when, together, the click, click of our weapons was heardHo was first to begin hostilities again. That shot left the mark on my cheek. It was an unfortunate one for him, for, by it I located him, and, having a rest on tho safe, my return fire found its mark, in his breast. He fell to the floor, groaning and swearing by turns. From his position on the floor he fired two shot* through the partition, doing but little damage. “It is needless to say that I did not strike a light ; neither did I come from behind tho safe until day-light, when I found iny unwelcome visitor unconscious. He never regained consciousness. Ho died in a few hours. His identity was unknown for some weeks, when I learned that he was a noted burglar whowas wanted by the authorities in a nearby city. The next day I resigned my • position and came east where I opened and have run this store ever since. No • more railroading or telegraphing forma. Good day."—[W. A. F., in Callicoon , (N. Y.) Echo.