It was a fact.There was no child there --not even moisture on the seat where she had been sitting.
"Bill," said he, going to the front door and addressing the driver, "what became of that little kid in the old cloak?""I didn't see no kid," said Bill, crossly.
"For Gawd's sake, close the door, John, and git that draught off my back.""Draught!" said John, indignantly, "where's the draught?""You've left the hind door open," growled Bill, and John saw him shivering as a blast struck him and ruffled the fur on his bear-skin coat.But the door was not open, and yet John had to admit to himself that the car seemed filled with wind and a strange coldness.
However, it didn't matter.Nothing mat-
tered! Still, it was as well no doubt to look under the seats just to make sure no little crouching figure was there, and so he did.
But there was nothing.In fact, John said to himself, he seemed to be getting expert in finding nothing where there ought to be some-thing.
He might have stayed in the car, for there was no likelihood of more passengers that evening, but somehow he preferred going out where the rain could drench him and the wind pommel him.How horribly tired he was! If there were only some still place away from the blare of the city where a man could lie down and listen to the sound of the sea or the storm -- or if one could grow suddenly old and get through with the bother of living -- or if --The car gave a sudden lurch as it rounded a curve, and for a moment it seemed to be a mere chance whether Conductor Billings would stay on his platform or go off under those fire-spitting wheels.He caught in-stinctively at his brake, saved himself, and stood still for a moment, panting.
"I must have dozed," he said to himself.
Just then, dimly, through the blurred win-dow, he saw again the little figure of the child, its head on its breast as before, its blue hands lying in its lap and the curious box beside it.John Billings felt a coldness beyond the coldness of the night run through his blood.Then, with a half-stifled cry, he threw back the door, and made a desperate spring at the corner where the eerie thing sat.
And he touched the green carpeting on the seat, which was quite dry and warm, as if no dripping, miserable little wretch had ever crouched there.
He rushed to the front door.
"Bill," he roared, "I want to know about that kid.""What kid?"
"The same kid! The wet one with the old coat and the box with iron hasps! The one that's been sitting here in the car!"Bill turned his surly face to confront the young conductor.
"You've been drinking, you fool," said he.
"Fust thing you know you'll be reported."The conductor said not a word.He went slowly and weakly back to his post and stood there the rest of the way leaning against the end of the car for support.Once or twice he muttered:
"The poor little brat!" And again he said, "So you didn't love me after all!"He never knew how he reached home, but he sank to sleep as dying men sink to death.
All the same, being a hearty young man, he was on duty again next day but one, and again the night was rainy and cold.
It was the last run, and the car was spin-ning along at its limit, when there came a sudden soft shock.John Billings knew what that meant.He had felt something of the kind once before.He turned sick for a moment, and held on to the brake.Then he summoned his courage and went around to the side of the car, which had stopped.
Bill, the driver, was before him, and had a limp little figure in his arms, and was carry-ing it to the gaslight.John gave one look and cried:
"It's the same kid, Bill! The one I told you of!"True as truth were the ragged coat dangling from the pitiful body, the little blue hands, the thin shoulders, the stringy hair, the big arctics on the feet.And in the road not far off was the curious chest of dark wood with iron hasps.
"She ran under the car deliberate!" cried Bill."I yelled to her, but she looked at me and ran straight on!"He was white in spite of his weather-beaten skin.
"I guess you wasn't drunk last night after all, John," said he.
"You -- you are sure the kid is -- is there?"gasped John.
"Not so damned sure!" said Bill.
But a few minutes later it was taken away in a patrol wagon, and with it the little box with iron hasps.
