A PRISONER
The three men almost instantly confronted Ralph, and one of them seized him, holding him firmly.
Ralph quickly decided on his course of action. He yawned in the face of the speaker and drawled sleepily:
“What are you waking a fellow up for?”
One held Ralph, another lit a match. They were rough, but shrewd fellows. Instantly one of them said:
“Disguised!” and he pulled off Ralph’s false moustache. “That means a spy. Fellows, how can we tell Woods?”
“S—sh!” warned a companion—“no names. Now, young fellow, who are you?”
But “young fellow” was gone! In a flash Ralph comprehended that he was in a bad fix, his usefulness on the scene gone. In a twinkling he had jerked free from the grasp of the man who held him, had sprung to the platform of the oil car and thence to the roof of the next box car. 227
Almost immediately his recent captor was after him. It was now for Ralph a race to the engine and his friend Barton.
The running boards were covered with sleet and as slippery as glass, yet Ralph forged ahead. He could hear the short gasps for breath of a determined pursuer directly behind him.