and water-cooler for furniture, and a
little ticket office at one end. The ticket office was occupied by the
station-agent, who was near the keyboard of the telegraph wire; otherwise
the interior of the building was empty.

"Heard anything from the passenger yet?" asked George, as he walked
unconcernedly into the ticket office.

"Just wait a second," said the man, his right hand playing on the board;
"I'm telegraphing up the line to Calhoun to find out where she is. The
wires aren't working to the south, somehow, but they're all right to the
north."

Click, click, went the instrument. George returned leisurely to the
doorway of the waiting-room. He was just in time to hear the young soldier
say to his friend: "If these fellows try to get away from here, just let
'em go. I'll send a telegram up the road giving warning that they are
coming, and should be stopped as a suspicious party. If they don't find
themselves in hot water by the time they get to Dalton I'm a bigger fool
than I think I am."

George stood stock still. Here was danger indeed! He knew that to send a
telegram up the road would be but the work of a minute; it could go over
the wires to the north before the "special" had pulled away from
Adairsville.

At this moment the station-agent came out of his office. "The passenger is
behind time," he said, and he ran quickly across the tracks to speak to
Andrews, who was looking anxiously out from the cab of "The General."

"It's now or never," thought George. He turned back into the deserted
waiting-room, entered the ticket-office, and pulled from the belt under
his inner coat a large revolver--the weapon which he carried in case
self-defense became necessary. Taking the barrel of the revolver, he tried
to pry up the telegraphic keyboard from the table to which it was
attached. But he found this impossible to accomplish; he could secure no
leverage on the instrument. He was not to be thwarted, however; so
changing his tactics, he took the barrel in his hand and began to rain
heavy blows upon the keys, with the butt end. In less time than it takes
to describe the episode, the instrument had been rendered totally
useless.

"There," he said to himself, with the air of a conqueror, "it will take
time to repair that damage, or to send a telegram." He was about to leave
the office when he discovered a portable battery under the table. It was
an instrument that could be attached to a wire, in case of emergency.
G