The Dead Chinaman
“MANY happy returns of the day, dear; may it be the most delightful
birthday you have ever spent.”
Nell smiled broadly to herself, as the clicking insistent little machine
ticked out Gertrude’s message of birthday wishes, and she thought of
last year, when Doss Umpey had even forgotten it was her birthday.
The smile changed to a sigh as her thoughts went backward. The old life
had been very lonely and narrow; it was delightful to think how things
had changed for her since then. It all seemed so far away now, but she
remembered every minute of the day; how Pip had been so badly mauled,
how her disappointment at not being able to have the key of her mother’s
box had made her miserable, then how the stranger had come to collapse
on the doorstep.
But she did not wish to remember anything about the stranger, so she
dismissed the subject with a shrug, and tried to think of something
else.
The day passed much as other days had done, except that there seemed
more work than usual to do, and Joey Trip was weaker and less able to
move the big packages.
“The old fellow ought to be superannuated, that is certain,” said the
conductor of the evening train, when he and the fireman had to unload
the freight which the old man should have handled.
But Joey was nowhere to be seen, and application to Mrs. Trip had
produced the information that Joey was not well, and could not leave his
bed. Then the men, who really needed instruction as to where to place
the different sorts of merchandise which were being taken out of the
freight cars, had to appeal to Nell for advice.
She was sewing in her office, and came at once when asked for
assistance, but she looked genuinely surprised at being told that Joey
was ill and unable to leave his bed, for she had seen him take the road
to the Settlement about an hour before the cars came in.
However, concerning this she said nothing, for of course he might have
returned and been taken poorly since that time.
Reaching down her big apron, she went out with the men, listened to what
they had to say about the freight, then gave her own opinion as to where
it should be placed.
The floor of the big shed had been raised to the level of a freight
wagon, which was most useful for purposes of loading and unloading.
“I suppose this place is safe enough; locks up properly at night, and
all that?” the conductor asked rather uneasily, when the fireman had
gone back to his engine, and Nell was preparing to shut the great double
doors.
“Oh yes; I should think it would stand a siege. Look at this bar across
these doors,” she said, with a laugh, as she slid the great bar of stout
wood into its place, and left the shed shut up for the night.
“That is well, for there is more value in some of that stuff brought
here to-night than thousands of dollars could replace,” the man said
earnestly.
Nell looked worried. “I wish you had not told me; I shall be having bad
dreams to-night,” she said, with a nervous laugh.
“I had to tell some one, and seeing that Joey Trip isn’t here, why, I
had to tell you, for how was I to know that you wouldn’t just leave the
place with the doors open, so that any one who chose might walk in and
help himself? But you’ve got your head screwed on right, so now I’ve
warned you, it will be safe.”
“Where are these valuable things consigned to?” asked Nell, as she and
the conductor made their way out of the shed by the small side door.
“Some to one place, some to another; the smelter takes most. They’ll be
sending down early in the morning, I expect, for the lot.”
“I wish they’d send to-night,” said Nell, with a sigh, knowing very well
that it would fall to her lot to bear the responsibility.
The conductor laughed. Then, as time was up, he strolled back to the
waiting cars, shouted an order to the engine driver as he went past,
then, as the train began to move, swung himself on board. There were
only three passengers, a man and two women, but there were some
freight-cars laden with logs from the saw-mills at the Settlement, and
one or two empty wagons.
A great silence seemed to fall on the lonely little depot after the
engine and its train of cars had gone snorting and puffing down the
valley, while the dusk of evening began to steal into the tree-shaded
hollows of the hills, although higher up the last rays of sunset were
lingering still.
Nell watched until the last trail of steam had disappeared round the
bend in the valley, then, remembering that Joey Trip was unwell, she
went to the house to ask what ailed him.
“In bed, is he? I am so sorry. Would you like me to wire down to Bratley
for the doctor to come up on the morning cars?” whispered Nell to the
deaf woman.
Mrs. Trip, who was looking very miserable, began to cry, faltering out
between her sobs—
“It don’t come natural to me to fib, Miss Hamblyn, ’deed it don’t; but
what was I to do? The truth would most likely have lost him his place.”
“What do you mean?” asked Nell, with a bewildered look.
“Joey ain’t sick at all,” gasped the old woman in great distress, “not
that I knows on, at least, though I’ll grant you he’s silly.”
“Where is he, then?” demanded Nell, blankly.
“He ain’t at home; he went off nearly two hours ago, I should say it
was,” sobbed the old woman.
“But where?” asked Nell.
“How should I know? I only saw him go. Then when the train man came to
ask for him, I guessed he’d gone off somewhere; and because I was afraid
I told the falsehood, and now I’ll have it on my conscience to my dying
day,” Mrs. Trip said, moaning piteously.
Nell tried to comfort her, but did not succeed very well. Remembering
that her office was not locked up, she went slowly back to make things
secure for the night, turning over in her own mind as she went the
probable reasons why Joey had chosen to absent himself from duty on that
particular evening, and resolving to tell him pretty plainly when he
returned that for the future he would have to do his own work, as she
was quite tired of being pointsman, porter, and everything else, in
addition to her own proper duties.
She was in her office, putting away things for the night, when she heard
wheels rumbling along the road, and, looking out, saw a rough
two-wheeled cart drawing up by the big shed.
“Oh, they have come for the valuables! How lucky!” she exclaimed to
herself. Not stopping to shut the office door, she ran along to the big
shed to open the double doors, and, if necessary, help the man to load
the cases on the cart.
To her surprise, however, he had not come for goods, but had brought a
dead Chinaman along in a coffin, to be put on the cars for Vancouver,
whence the remains would be shipped to the land of his nativity.
“But the train ain’t gone yet for sure, is it?” asked the man in charge
of this gruesome freight.
“Yes, ten minutes or a quarter of an hour ago. Why didn’t you hurry up?”
said Nell, sharply.
“I thought I’d time, plenty of it, but it’s that wretched watch of mine;
stops the thing does, then goes on again after half an hour or so as
comfortable as you please, and me none the wiser,” the fellow said,
drawing out his watch and showing it to Nell, who saw that it was, as he
had said, half an hour slow.
“What are you going to do?” she asked curtly.
“Leave him here, of course, to go by first train in the morning; it
won’t make much difference to him I guess, whether it’s now or next
week. But I was told to get him here for the night cars, and I guess Li
Hung will be pretty mad when he knows I missed. Still, accidents will
happen sometimes.”
“Where does he—I mean where does it come from?” asked Nell, with a
shiver.
“Goat’s Gulch; it’s a place pretty high up, about six miles beyond the
Settlement, and it’s a silver claim what they’ve got, this lot of
Chinkies, I mean. There’s six or seven of them. Li Hung he’s the boss,
and this one here in the box was Li Hang, his brother. Is old Joey Trip
about to help me to unload, miss? I’m in a hurry to get back, for my
wife ain’t very well, and ours is rather a lonely location.”
“No, he is not about. Wait a minute while I go and get the double doors
open, then I will help you myself,” she said brusquely, feeling more
angry than ever with Joey Trip, for having gone off in such a careless
fashion, leaving her in charge.
The coffin must be taken into the big shed, she knew, so she entered,
groped her way to the double doors, slid out the bar, and pushed them
open. It was not dark yet, but the moon was already coming up, and there
was a luminous brightness in the sky left from a glorious sunset, which
made things stand out in a particularly vivid manner.
Nell was helping with her vigorous young strength to drag the coffin
from the cart to the raised floor of the shed, when she noticed to her
surprise that there were round holes here and there along the side,
under the raised beading which ornamented the lid.
Instantly it flashed into her mind that these were air-holes, and as
instantly it occurred to her that dead men did not require air-holes,
although live ones might do.
By a great effort she kept the sudden terror which leaped into her heart
from showing in her face, while she pushed and pulled with great fuss
and much apparent effort, as if the work were beyond her strength.
“Are there a couple of blocks anywhere that we could lift the coffin on,
miss?” the man asked a little anxiously, as he peered about the dusky
interior of the big shed.
Nell seized upon two square blocks of wood, upsetting as she did so a
long length of light but very strong steel chain, which had come up on
the cars that evening, consigned to the company running the smelter. The
chain put an idea in her head, that came like an inspiration of hope.
“Will these do?” she asked, dragging the blocks forward for his
inspection.
“Just the right sort of thing, thank you. Would you mind shoving the
blocks under while I tilt the concern up? You see, it’s polished
underneath, and Li Hung would never get over it if he thought I’d left
it so that the bottom would get scratched or spoiled. Terrible
particular about their coffins these Chinkies are. It is the first thing
they buy when they are able to save money a bit, and they’ll spend no
end of time in polishing and rubbing to keep them bright and shining.”
“Ugh! How horrible! I’m so afraid of things of that sort,” cried Nell,
glad to relieve her feelings by a violent shudder.
She was honestly very much afraid just then, only it was not a dead man,
but a possible live one inside the coffin, whom she feared so greatly.
“Bless you, miss, you’ve no call to be frightened; dead men won’t hurt
nobody. Shall I stay and help you to lock up?” he asked, with a
sympathetic kindness which Nell would have greatly appreciated, if she
had not believed him to be a hypocrite, which he actually was.
“No, thank you; I would rather do it myself,” she answered brusquely,
beginning to draw the first of the doors into its place.
“Good evening, miss,” he said cheerily, as he got into his cart and
started the horse on its homeward journey up the hilly road between the
trees.
“Good evening,” she answered, giving the half of the double doors a
shake and a bang, as if it would not settle into its place properly.
The door was all right, but she wanted a moment or two in which to let
the man with the cart get farther away before she acted on the
inspiration which had come to her.
The horse was going slowly, and the man kept looking back, but at last
he had passed the place where a derelict railway wagon blocked the view.
Then she turned, and, quick as thought, seized upon the length of steel
chain and passed it round the coffin four or five times. After this, as
a final precaution, she dumped two heavy cases upon the polished lid,
and, shutting the other half of the door, slid the great bar into its
place.
It was awkward work groping her way to the side door, and she knocked
herself more than once upon the way against barrels and cases, some of
the latter having sharp corners.
But she was outside at last, and, locking the door behind her, had a
moment in which to sort out her thoughts and decide what next had to be
done.
She was quite positive in her own mind that the inmate of the coffin was
a living man, that the person who had brought it had arrived purposely
late for the evening train, and that a scheme was afoot to rob the big
shed.
Could she by any means prevent the robbery? The man in the coffin was
certainly a prisoner until some one released him, for the steel chain
was much too strong for one man’s strength to break. But he would have
confederates, several perhaps, and how could she, a girl, hope to outwit
them?
If she ran all the way to the Settlement, the robbery might take place
before she could get back. She might even be intercepted, and prevented
from giving an alarm.
Then she remembered the telegraph, and darting into her office, the door
of which was open, she struck a light, and prepared to wire to Bratley,
or if necessary to Lytton for help.
To her dismay, however, she could not get into communication anywhere;
the wires had been cut.
Strangely enough, this new phase of disaster, instead of overwhelming
her, braced her nerves, and made her determined to succeed in summoning
help to save the railway company from robbery.
She thought of the inspection trip which she had made with the
inspector, and of his explanation of how a message could be sent if the
wire were cut. But when she had found where the wire had been cut, how
was she, a girl, to climb a twenty-foot telegraph-pole in the dark and
carry with her the long end of the wire? Then suddenly she remembered
that there was a testing pole about a mile away; that is, a pole with
iron spikes sticking out at intervals, up which an active person might
climb. The inspector had explained to her that at each station the wire
was carried down into the ground, and that the current, after passing
along it, made its way through the earth to the point from which it
started. It occurred to her therefore that if she could climb the
testing pole she might be able to complete the circuit by cutting the
wire there and then tapping one of the ends against the lightning
conductor, with which most of the poles in that ironstone region had
been fitted, a long metal rod running down into the earth. If she could
do this, she felt sure she would be able to send a message. At any rate
she could try.
A mile away, and the ground so rough it would take her at least twenty
minutes to get there, and even then she would have to cut the wire. But
there was a wire-cutter in the drawer of the instrument table, and
seizing it she dashed out to the warm darkness of the September gloom,
and, taking a path leading away from the railway track, ran at top speed
until she was pretty well exhausted.
Then she dropped on the ground for a twofold purpose—first to get a
complete rest, and secondly to hear if she were being followed.
But there was no sound that reached her ears, saving her own panting
breath, and after a brief rest she was up and away again, heading
straight for the railway now, and getting over the ground faster than at
first, because the going was smoother.
Having arrived at the testing pole, she had to drop on the ground again
and have another rest, for she was much too tremulous and exhausted to
attempt the climb until she had recovered her breath a little.
Step by step she pulled herself up the tall pole until she reached the
top; then she gave a low cry of surprise, for it was there that the wire
had been cut!
Fortunately for her purpose, it had been cut on the side nearer to
Camp’s Gulch, and about two feet from the pole. She therefore dragged
the cut end of the wire round until it reached the lightning conductor,
thus making the circuit complete. Then, tapping it on the rod, she sent
her imploring appeal to Bratley.
But it was nearly eight o’clock, perhaps even past that hour, and
Gertrude’s office might be shut up, so, after having twice repeated her
message of distress to Bratley, she sent an appeal all the way to
Lytton, being determined that some one should know of the desperate
strait she was in.
It was harder work coming down the pole than it had been going up, and
when at length the bottom was reached in safety, she was trembling so
much with the fearful strain of her achievement that again she had to
lie down to recover a little.
Full well she realized that the greatest danger was yet to come, and
that the time of waiting for help to arrive was the most anxious and
hazardous of all.
If Joey Trip had only been at home it would not have been so bad. But,
since a stone-deaf woman was practically as useless as no one, she was
to all intents and purposes alone.
Back she went as fast as she could travel, only now there was a
clutching fear at her heart, and she started at every sound, real or
imaginary.
Mrs. Trip was standing at the door, peering out, when Nell came in
sight, walking leisurely now because she did not want to frighten the
old woman too soon.
“Come in, child. What do you want to go wandering round at night for,
just as if you were an owl? I’ve made you a real nice pancake for your
supper, and there’s honey as well, because of its being your birthday,”
said the old woman, laying her hand affectionately on Nell’s shoulder.
Then, because something in the girl’s strained white face and troubled
eyes arrested her attention, she asked sharply, “What is it? What’s the
matter, child? Has aught of harm come to Joey?”
“No; it isn’t Mr. Trip. But I’m afraid there is mischief afoot,”
whispered Nell.
Then, dragging the old woman farther into the lighted room, she stood
with her face turned to the lamp, and told in whispers the story of what
they had to fear.
“Heaven send that Joey has not gone off on purpose to be out of this!”
cried the old woman, lifting up her shaking hands with an imploring
gesture.
“No, no, I am sure he has not,” whispered Nell; “for in that case he
would have waited until the cars had gone as usual. But I must go now,
for I have to watch the big shed, even though I may not be able to save
the stuff. Give me a bit of bread that I can carry with me, and the
pancake must wait until I have more time to eat it.”
“It is such a beautiful pancake, and I made it for your birthday,” said
the old woman, regretfully, as she cut a generous chunk from the loaf.
Nell started. She had forgotten about it being her birthday; and then,
remembering her last birthday, she wondered if always the date was to
mark change and upheaval in her life.
But she had no time for speculation now, and, eating a mouthful of
bread, she gulped down a cup of hot tea without sugar or milk; after
which she noiselessly emerged from the house door, and, making a wide
detour by way of Joey’s garden, gained the other side of the railway
track.
She meant to creep as far as the derelict freight-car if she could, but
to reach it there was an open moon-lit space to cross. Once hidden in
the freight-car, she believed that she would be able to see without
being seen, so that if a raid were really made on the big shed she might
be able to know in which direction the things were taken away.
But, as she crouched waiting in the shadow of the trees until the
passing of the moon left the open space in shadow once more, a slouching
step sounded, coming nearer and nearer, and, to her amazement, Doss
Umpey came into view.
“Granfer!” she cried, startled into forgetfulness of the need there was
for keeping herself out of sight.
Just then, from far away down the valley came the faint whistle of a
train.