"'If you try to get rides that way,' I slung at her in Spiggoty
Spanish (which they tell me is some different from regular
Spanish), 'you'll be taking one smeared all over our cowcatcher and
headlight, and it'll be up to my fireman to scrape you off.'

"My Spiggoty Spanish wasn't much to brag on, but I could see she
understood, though she only shook her head and wouldn't speak. But
great Moses, she was some looker--"

I glanced apprehensively at Mrs. Jones, who must have caught me out
of the tail of her eye, for she muttered: "If she hadn't been do
you think he'd a-taken her into his house to live?"

"Now hold on, Sarah," he protested. "That ain't fair. Besides,
I'm telling this.--Next thing, Seth yells at me, 'Goin' to stay
here all night?'

"'Come on,' I said to the girl, 'and climb on board. But next time
you want a ride don't flag a locomotive between stations.' She
followed along; but when I got to the step and turned to give her a
lift-up, she wasn't there. I went forward again. Not a sign of
her. Above and below was sheer cliff, and the track stretched
ahead a hundred yards clear and empty. And then I spotted her,
crouched down right against the cowcatcher, that close I'd almost
stepped on her. If we'd started up, we'd have run over her in a
second. It was all so nonsensical, I never could make out her
actions. Maybe she was trying to suicide. I grabbed her by the
wrist and jerked her none too gentle to her feet. And she came
along all right. Women do know when a man means business."