The Golden Leg Read Free

eventually out of earshot as well.
    The clergyman decided he would stop in at the railway station and ask about the
     train that had just gone through. The station was empty except for the ticket
     agent, and the clergyman addressed his questions to that man.
    “No train has passed through here,” said the agent, looking at the Reverend
     with a look of some puzzlement.
    “But it did,” said the clergyman. “I saw it myself, felt the vibrations of the
     engines, and saw several people on board.”
    The agent was mystified, and stated again with great assuredness that no train
     had passed. He checked the timetables, and found that a train had not been
     scheduled, nor was one expected, but the clergyman persisted in saying he had
     seen one.

    News of the phantom train was telegraphed up along the line, but
     no train arrived at the next stop.
    Soon after, the story was made known in the community, and much to the
     clergyman’s relief, others corroborated hisstory. They too had
     seen the strange train at the time mentioned by the clergyman. However, no
     explanation was ever found. The railway hands who worked that section of the
     line were somewhat spooked by the story, and from that point on were always
     nervous about meeting the ghostly engine somewhere on the tracks.
    Today that section of the line is silent. The tracks have been removed, and
     only the small yellow and green station house remains. If you are very lucky,
     however, on rare fine evenings in the second week of the second month of the
     year, you may just hear the faint rumble of phantom wheels on the long abandoned
     track, as that ghostly train continues its journey, conveying its mysterious
     passengers to destinations from which no living traveller has ever
     returned.

M
r. and Mrs. Murphy were on vacation,
     and arrived in a city they had never visited before. Not knowing where to spend
     the night, they consulted the local paper. From a long list of hotels, inns and
     boarding houses, they chose one which they thought would best suit their
     needs.
    When they arrived, they were not disappointed. It was a charming old hotel with
     a huge antique lantern hung over the entrance. The interior was just as
     delightful, with walls, floors, and staircases all of oak.
    The hotel was completely full, except for one room which Mr. Murphy quickly
     booked. The room itself was at the end of a very long passage at the back of the
     building. It was a surprisingly large room, with a gigantic four-poster bed
     carved out of black wood, and a matching wardrobe set against one wall. Mrs.
     Murphy unpacked their belongings while Mr. Murphy relaxed, nibbling on
     gingerbread and reading the newspaper.
    As the wife unpacked, her eyes were drawn for some reason to the old black
     wardrobe. She opened it up, and found that it was dark, deep, and completely
     empty. As shelooked into it, she felt a curious sensation which
     was not entirely pleasant but which she could not exactly explain.
    Putting the strange sensation out of her mind, she firmly closed the door to
     the wardrobe and finished unpacking. The couple then both relaxed, and chatted
     about their day. It was only when a clock from a nearby church boomed twelve
     that the couple realized how late it had grown. They both got ready for bed,
     slipped between the clean white linen sheets on the four-poster bed, and turned
     out the lights.
    Mr. Murphy quickly fell asleep and began to snore. Mrs. Murphy lay awake and
     listened to her husband. Normally she found the sound of his snoring
     troublesome. On this particular night, it was almost comforting, for a deathlike
     hush seemed to hang over the house. The silence was broken by the odd creak and
     footstep, the rustle of curtains, and distant sighs and whisperings. All of
     these noises were, very possibly, the result of natural causes, but they played
     upon Mrs. Murphy’s imagination.
    As she listened, she became aware of a smell. At first it was just