Rensselaer Republican, Volume 16, Number 42, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 26 June 1884 — CHRISTIE’S TELEGRAPHING. [ARTICLE]

CHRISTIE’S TELEGRAPHING.

I am very glad that telephones have been invented; and yet I am glad they wore not sooner invented. I should like to tell yon the reason. That will take some time, for it is qnite a story: We live in the oountry, at Oakbrook, and my father is the Trearurer and Superintendent of the Oakbrook mills. Our house—a very pleasant country house it is—is situated on a beautifully wooded slope olose to the river, and is a quarter of a mile from the mills. That is why telegraph wire was placed between the two. I promised father when it was put up that I would learn to send messages over it. There was no one else in the family who could have learned. Both my brothers were at boarding school, and mother would as soon have thought of studying the Chinese language as telegdeclared that I never would learn. Girls had but little patience for such things, he said. Nevertheless, the wire was put up and connected with a battery in the library, and in just four months’ time 1 had mastered the alphabet and technicalities of the instrument so that I couls use it readily and was able to read the message by ear. It was Harry Randall who taught me. He was one of the clerks at the office, and he had learned to use the instrument, because it was necessary to have somebody to send messages by the wire that ran from the mills to the adjacent City of Palmer. Having explained so much, I think I have said all that is necessary to enable you to understand what occurred on a February night, about which I am going to tsll yon. We were through Bupper, and were sitting together, father, mother and I, around the table in the library, when Joseph, our coachman and man-of-all-work about the place, brought in the mail as usual. Father eagerly took a letter that seemed to have been expected, from the other letters. I noticed a disturbed expression upon his face as he read it; and I was more anxious than Surprised when he arose and went to the hall door and called to the girl who was in the dining-room. “Mary," said he, “tell Joseph to harness Prince at once. I must get to the Junction in time for the 8 o’clock express. He’ll have to finish his supper when he gets back.”

Then he turned and said that the letter contained intelligence that made it necessary that he should go to New York that night. Of course, as the wife and daughter of a business man, we knew what it meant, and that there was not a word of remonstrance to be said. So mother went tp make for him what preparation was needful, and I should have followed her a moment later, but father called me back. “Christie," he said, rather soberly, “I am going to tell something that no one knows anything about save Harry Bandall. I hare quite a large sum of money—over s2,ooo—in my pocket.” He touched his breast with his finger. *1 never keep large amounts of money bv me, bnt in this case it was unavoidable, and I thought I should feel less anxious to have it with me than to allow it to remain in the safe at th§ office. I oannot, of course, take it to New York, bo I want vou to take charge of it and keep it till to-morrow morning, and then carry it to Bandall for him to deposit in the bank. Don’t say anything to your mother about it She is so timid and nervons that she would sot sleep a wink all night if she knew so large a sum was in the house. Do you understand ?” With no slight feeling of responsibility I took the leathern pocket-book which he handed me and placed it in the pocket of my dress. Father went on: “Perhaps you had better put it under your „ pillow. Of course it is fire that I am most anxious about There is no danger of the money in any other way. Not a soul knows about it* Then he went into the hall and came very unexpectedly upon Joseph, for I heard him speak somewhat sharply to him because he had not gone to the stable, and declaring that his business was of more importance than his supper. I heard Joseph matter something about taking time to finish his meal. Ten minutes later, as father was going down the steps to get into the carriage, he turned back to me,, and holding his umbrella >o mother should not knit he whisnered: “l*ve been thinking, Christie, that yonng Bandall had better come and 'sleep at the house. 1 shall feel easier about vou. He is to be there at work to night until very late."

Then he stepped into the buggy, and they drove away into the darkness and rain. ; I did not send a message to Harry, however. Indeed I laughed a little as 1 I thought of father’s anxiety. He was almost as timid as mother, after all. I was of A rather easy, careless disposition, and really had not a particle of fear of having the money in my keeping. Afid as we two eat there in the library for a long while after this, mother dozing in the big* chair, and I intent upon some fancy w<ork which I was anxious to finish in time for a friend’s birthday. I forgot altogether of the package of money which lay at the bottom of my dress pocket. Joseph did not get back until after ten o’clock although it was only three miles to the junction, and he should have been home long before that hour. We thought little of that, however. He had been with ns several years, and we learned that he had been recently led into bad company and that father had several times had angry words with him about hiß habits. Joseph slept in the house, and for that reason it seemed to me quite unnecessary that Harryßondall should be there also. When the clock struck 10 mother arose declaring it was time to go to bed. She went into all the lower rooms to see that the windows and doors were’ fastened, and then came back to the library for me.

But I did not feel sleepy, and wanted very much to go on with the work, so I begged her to go upstairs without me, promising to come np in the coarse of an hour. : The clock struck 11 almost before I knew the time had passed. I laid down my work and counted the strokes without looking at the clock itself. I was sitting at a little center-table, near the lamp. At my left, a little way off against the wall, was father’s desk, with books and papers scattered upon it, and the battery at on end. Opposite me were two long windows that opened upon the side piazza. Over these were thick curtains, closely drawn, which did not shut out the sound of the pelting storm outside. Directly behind me was the hall door, standing, as usual, wide open. “Just then I heard, or fancied I heard, a low sigh or breath in the hall. I turned my hea4 instantly, but did not see any person, and listening intently, heard no further sound. I felt a little uneasy, and smiled to myself at my nervousness, then took up my work again. I had not finished what I had set myself to do.

I had not taken three stitches when I laid the work down again. There was no use denying it or laughing at myself. For some reason there suddenly came over me a strong feeling of nervousuess and dread. It seemed as if I realized as I had not before that evening the fact that I was sitting all alone downstairs in the house, at 11 o'clock at night, with a large sum of money in my pocket I glanced at jthe desk. Possibly Harry was still at work in the office. If he was, a single sentence over the wire would call him. I was jnst getting up to go to the desk to signal and see if he was at the mill, when something' occurred to me that seemed to turn me cold and motionless as stone in an instant. Behind me, so clese that I knew it came Irom the threshold of the hall door, a low, hoarse voice, that I knew, without seeing the speaker, must be that of a desperate and wicked man, broke the stillness, and bade me “Good evening 1 ” For a moment, as I say, I felt as though I had been turned to stone. Then the voice, speaking again, seemed at least to restore the life in me, and to set my heart to beating violently. The language that the man used was not even as good English as, in attempting to reproduce, I find myself writing. “Don’t be frightened, Miss. I beg of ye not to be frightened. All ye’ve got ter do is ter keep still, an’ not a hair of yer pretty head shall be harmed." Then I turned my head, half wheeling my chair at the same time, and saw standing in the doorway a. tall, brutallooking man, altogether as ugly and illconditioned and fearful-looking a person as I ever had seen. Naturally enough I opened my lips to utter a little cry, but he stopped me by a single threatening motion of a club he carried in his hand.

“S—h,” he fiercely hissed. “If ye raise a single scream I’ll strike ye as senseless as yer mother is upstairs." The last word changed for the moment the nature of my fear and gave me strength to speak. “What have you done to my mother?” I demanded excitedly. “Do yon mean —have you killed her?” He uttered a sort of low laugh. “No, my dear; she was waking up, so we had ter use chloroform. An’ you must keep still or you’ll be served the same way. You see, it’s just here—” He drew a step nearer and seemed disposed to explain matters. “What we want is some money your father brought down from Palmer yesterday. Maybe yer don’t know about it; but we do, and we know he left it in the bouse when he went off to-night. My friend is up stairs lookin’ for it this minute. All we want is the money. We don't mean harm to nobody. Ye shan’t be touched if ye behave yerself an’ keep quiet” Somewhat assured by this, and having had time while he was speaking to collect myself, I was now able to assume an appearance at least of calmness. I took np my embroidery and went on working, or pretending to work—at the pattern I was embroidering; I think the action helped me, too, for I presently found myself very calm, and with a coolness and resolution that I can hardly believe in now, as I recall it, turning over in my mind what I ought to do. What would these two men do when they found, os they would soon find, that the money was not np stairs ? They would be disappointed and des-perate-capable, perhaps, of deeds that they had not at first intended. ; Perhaps I had better give np the money at ones and so get rid of them. And yet, father had confided it to my care; and it did not belong to him but

to the company. I onght not to give it to these men if I could help it. O , why could I not give an alarm in some way? What if I could open my mouth and cry out at any risk? Gould I make Joseph hear away out in the wing of the house as he was? Alas, I knew that I could pot, even had not this man been sitting there by the door—he had taken a chair now—eyeing me fiercely as though he read my thoughts. Ah, if I had only done as father wished and telegraphed for Harry Randall to come up! And then with this last thought another thought came to me. Why could I not summon Harry even now, if perchance he was still at the office ? I arose from my chair, mechanically grasping my hand. My guard got up also evidently suspicions of my slightest movement. “I’ll have to ask yer to keep quiet, miss, said he, with a hard, determined voice. I turned upon him indignantly. “I suppose I may change my seat if I like'" said L

And without waiting for his permission, I walked deliberately over to the desk and sat down on the revolving chair that stood before it. At the s ime time I threw my work down on the desk in such a way as to cover completely the battery, which instrument my companion had prcj>ably not noticed at all. Perhaps he would not have known what it was if he had, C\ I sat there a moment listlessly twisting the ohair back and forth, and trying to make up my mind what best to do. Just then there was a slight noise on the hall stairs, and the man became uneasy, stood np and looked at the library door as if he was about to go toward it. Then he turned to me again, and with a threatening gesture: said: “You just set there while I step into the hall a bit. And if you stir to make a noise, it will be the worst for ye. Do you mind that?” He weni softly into the hall. Feeling that now was my opportunity, I put my finger on the nob, and as silently as possible sent my signal over the wire into the night, down to the mills and Harry Randall. “Harry, are you there?” In another instant I was leaning back in my chair and moving an inkstand on the table to make a noise. How my heart was beating, and my ear was strained to catoh the sound that—if I might in God’s goodnesshopeit— might possibly come back to me! Almost a minute—it seemed an age— I listened; and my heart sank as no answering signal was heard. Then—click! click! click! came the sounds, sweeter to my ears than the sweetest music, and I knew Harry was there. These sounds were to some extent covered by the drumming of my thimble, but to me were as plain as spoken words. “Yes.” excited words, run all together: “Robbers! Help!” The total silence that followed assured me, after a minute’s anxious waiting, that Harry had comprehended my message, and that doubtless he would come at once to the house. Fortune had favored me, for I had heard the man creeping up the hall stairs, and thus I had escaped the results of any suspicions he might have had had he heard the clicking of the instrnment. I did not look at the clock, and so cannot say how long I sat there in silence. It seemed to me that it was hours.

Then there was a second of whispering in the hall. The next moment there appeared in the doorway a second stranger, rougher and more desperate, if possible, in appearance than the first; and close behind him to my surprise and indignation, was our man Joseph. They both advanced into the room, the one looking angry and disappointed, and the other with a sheepish air as he caught my eye. “We have found the key of the safe,” growled the second stranger. “But all for nothing. The money wasn’t in it, and we have looked high and low, and can’t find it. But Joe here sticks to it that it’s somewhere in the house; and he thinks," looking fiercely at me, “you know where. It’s no use, Mbs ; we haven’t any time to spare and we won’t have no nonsense. I see it in your eye; you know where the money is. And you’ve got to tell." He had advanced while he had been speaking and was now quite near. I arose from my chair, fearing he meant to lay hands on me. And at that instant—my ears painfully alert to any noise—l was certain I caught the sound of a footfall outside of the window, and I gained fresh courage. “And why have I got to tell?” I demanded, purposely raising my voice so it could be heard outside the Jiouse. “What right have you to break into this house this way—”

The man suddenly caught me by the wrist, uttering at the same time a fearful oath. “You make another sound above a whisper,” he cried, iu a voice hoarse with rage, “and I’il—” He did not finish his sentence. There came a loud crash at both windows at once, and the next instant Harry Bandall with two watchmen from the mills burst into the room. The rescue was complete, so far as saving our lives was concerned. The robbers attempted ho resistance. In an instant, before a word could be said or a blow struck, the man raised his hand and dashed the lamp from the table. In the darkness and confosion the burglars, Joseph among them, made their escape. And although every effort Was made, both then and after, to secure their arrest, they never were taken. However, as I said, our lives and the money that bad been confided to my keeping were safe; and we were all thankful for that. And I may say again that I am very glad that, at that time at least, the telegraph had not been superseded by the telephone.— Somerville Journal. Thebe is no virtue that adds so noble a charm to the finest traits of beanty as that which exerts itself in watohing over the tranqmlity of an aged parent There are no Wars that give so rich and sweet a taster to the oneok of innocence as the tears of filial sorrow— SL Julian.