came
tramping up to the office, telling Miss Marsh, in an idiotic way, that
Peach Creek bridge had washed out. Just then she heard me "OS" the flyer
and her office was the next one to mine. As the flyer did not stop at
Dunraven, the baggageman and helper went home at six o'clock and she was
absolutely alone save for this half witted boy. The section house was a
mile and a half away to the east. A mile away, to the south were the
twinkling lights of the village, while but one short mile to the west
was Peach Creek, with the bridge gone out, and the flyer thundering
along towards it with its precious load of human freight. How could it
be warned. The boy hadn't sense enough to pound sand. She must do it.
So, quick as a flash she picked up the red-light standing near, and
started down the track. The rain was coming down in a perfect deluge,
and the wind was sweeping across the Nebraska prairies like a hurricane.
Lightning was flashing, casting a lurid glare over the soaked earth, and
the thunder rolled peal after peal, resembling the artillery of great
guns in a big battle. Truly, it was like the setting for a grand drama.
Undaunted by it all, this brave little woman, bare headed, hair flying
in the wind, and soaked to the skin, battled with the elements as she
fought her way down the track. A mile, ordinarily, is a short distance,
but now, to her, it seemed almost interminable; and all the time the
flyer was coming nearer and nearer to the creek with the broken bridge.
My God! would she make it! Presently, above the howling of the wind she
heard the mad waters as they went boiling and tumbling down the
channel.

[Illustration: "After many efforts I finally reached the lowest
cross-arm."]

At last she was there, standing on the brink. But the train was not yet
saved. Just across the creek the road made an abrupt curve around a
small hill, and if she could not reach that curve her labors would be to
no avail, and a frightful wreck would follow. All the bridge was gone
save the rails, stringers and a few shaky ties. Only forty feet
intervened between her and the opposite bank, and get across she must.
There was only one way, so grasping the lantern between her teeth, she
started across on her hands and knees. The stringers swayed back and
forth in the wind, and her frail body, it seemed, would surely be caught
up and blown into the mad maelstrom of waters below. No! No! she could
not fail now. Away up the road, borne to he