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.
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