in my chair about eleven-thirty, when I was awakened by the
sharp crack of a rifle, followed in quick succession by others, until it
was a regular fusillade. Then I heard the short shrill Apache war-whoop,
and mentally I thought my time had come. I tried to breathe a prayer,
but the high and unusual position of my heart effectually prevented any
articulation. The window had been closed on account of a high wind
blowing, or I fancy I should have gone out that way. However, I grabbed
up a rifle, and then opening a trap door, dropped down into a little
cubbyhole under the floor, where we used to keep our batteries. What I
brought the rifle along for I can't say, unless it was to blow the top
of my own head off. The place was like a bake-oven and all the air I
received came through a small crack in the floor, and it was not long
until I was soaked with perspiration.

[Illustration: "One of them picked up the lantern, and swaggering over
to where I sat all trembling...."]

Overhead I could hear the crack of the rifles and the whoop of the
Indians as the battle raged, back and forth. During a temporary lull I
heard the despatcher calling me for dear life, but he could call for all
I cared; I had other business just then--I was truly "25." All at once I
heard a bigger commotion than ever, there was a sound as if caused by
the scurrying of many feet, and then all was quiet. I sat there
wondering what was coming next, and how much longer I had to live, when
I smelled smoke, and in a second I knew the depot was on fire. I tried
to raise the trap-door, but it had a snap lock and had been dropped so
hard in my mad efforts to get away, that it was securely locked. Good
God! was I to be burned like a rat in a trap? All was quiet save the
crackling of the flames as they licked up the depot. Something must be
done and quickly at that, or there would be one operator who would
receive his conge in a manner that was anything but pleasant.
Feverishly, I groped around, and all at once my hand came in contact
with the Winchester rifle. I grasped it by the barrel, and using it as a
battering ram I started to smash that door. The smoke by this time was
stifling, suffocating, and already my senses were leaving
me,--everything was swimming around before my eyes, but it was a case of
life and death, and I hammered away with all my might. Finally, Crash!
Ah! I had succeeded, the lock broke and in a moment I had pulled myself
up in the office.