(slapping his chest,) we've all got to go; and if I can save them, I'll have some little capital to start the next world on. The next world? perhaps I shan't be the maimed beggar there that I am in this. (Takes out pistol, examines cap; goes off L., Byke gliding after him.)
SCENE III.—Railroad Station at Shrewsbury Bend. Up R. the Station shed R. H. Platform around it, and door at side, window in front. At L. L. E. clump of shrubs and tree. The Railroad track runs from L. 4 E. to R. 4. E. View of Shrewsbury River in perspective. Night. Moonlight. The switch, with, a red lantern and Signal man's coat hanging on it L. C. The Signal lamp and post beside it.
As the scene opens, several packages are lying about the Stage, among them a bundle of axes. The Signal man is wheeling in a small barrel from L. whistling at his work. Enter Laura in walking dress, coming feebly from L. U. E.
Laura. It is impossible for me to go further. A second time I've fled from home and friends, but now they will never find me. The trains must all have passed, and there are no conveyances till to-morrow. (She situ at clump L. U. E.)
Signal. Beg pardon, ma'am, looking for anybody?
Laura. Thank you, no. Are you the man in charge of this station?
Signal. Yes, ma'am.
Laura. When is there another train for New York?
Signal. New York? Not till morning. We've only one more train to-night; that's the down one; it'll be here in about twenty minutes—"Express Train."
Laura. What place is that?
Signal. That? That's the signal station shed. It serves for store-room, depot, baggage-room, and everything.
Laura. Can I stay there to-night?
Signal. There? Well it's an odd place, and I should think you would hardly like it. Why don't you go to the hotel?
Laura. 1 have my reasons—urgent ones. It is not because I want money. You shall have this (producing portmonnaie) if you let me remain here.
Signal. Well, I've locked up a good many things in there over night, but I never had a young lady for freight before. Besides, ma'm, I don't know anything about you. You know it's odd that you won't go to a decent hotel, and plenty of money in your pocket.
Laura. You refuse me—well—I shall only have to sit here all night.
Signal. Here, in the open air? Why, it would kill you.
Laura. So much the better.
Signal. Excuse me for questions, Miss, but you re a running away from some one, ain't you?
Laura. Yes.
Signal. Well, I'd like to help you. I'm a plain man you know, and I'd like to help you, but there's one thing would go agin' me to assist in. (Laura interested.) I'm on to fifty years of ago, and I've
