"Yours truly," responded the other. "When you land in the calaboose for this racket I'll keep you in tobacco. What name shall I ask for?"
"If I land there you can ask for a damfool—and I'll answer the first time," laughed the holdup over his shoulder. "Next gent! Here's the little bag. Lady, keep your weddin' ring. You fat sport, stand up till I see what you're sittin' on. Why, was you tryin' to hatch out that bunch of money? I'll surely do that incubatin' myself."
He levied tribute swiftly, in spite of his badinage, and the gunny sack sagged heavier and heavier. As he reached the end, his companion, who had dominated the passengers with his gun, abandoned his position and came down the aisle. At the rear door he turned.
"Keep your seats till the train moves," he ordered harshly. "I'm layin' for the first man that sticks his head out of this car."
Behind him the coach buzzed like a disturbed hive. Its occupants bewailed their losses, vowed vengeance on both holdups and railway. Women reproached men with cowardice. Men told each other what they would have done if—— But not one attempted to leave his seat.
Nita turned to Clyde with sparkling eyes. "And now I've been in a holdup!" she exclaimed. "Won't that be a thing to tell the girls? Were you frightened, Clyde? I wasn't."
"I don't think so," Clyde replied. "I'm glad we saved our watches." The words recalled the man across the aisle. He was leaning back, listening to odd bits of conversation, a smile of amusement on his face. Clyde leaned across.
"I want to thank you," she said. "We should never have thought of hiding our watches."
He nodded pleasantly. "No, not likely. I hope you didn't lose much money. He left me ten dollars. I don't want to be misunderstood, but that's very much at your service until you can get more."
"And what shall you do—till pay day?" she asked, obeying a sudden mischievous impulse.