“Very well; keep perfectly quiet and I will try to get you safely off.” He went to an adjoining room and called Sam, the contractor's man. He took in the situation at a glance.
“Wa'al Foster,” said he, “kind o' 'close call' for yer, warn't it? Guess yer'd better be gittin' up an' gittin' pretty lively. The train boys will take yer through an' yer kin come back when this racket's worked out.”
Sinclair glanced at his watch, then he walked to the window and looked out. On a small mesa, or elevated plateau, commanding the path to the railroad, he saw a number of men with rifles.
“Just as I expected,” said he. “Sam, ask one of the boys to go down to the track and, when the train arrives, tell the conductor to come here.”
In a few minutes the whistle was heard and the conductor entered the building. Receiving his instructions, he returned, and immediately on engine, tender, and platform appeared the trainmen, with their rifles covering the group on the bluff. Sinclair put on his hat.
“Now, Foster,” said he, “we have no time to lose. Take Sam's arm and mine, and walk between us.”
The trio left the building and walked deliberately to the railroad. Not a word was spoken. Besides the men in sight on the train, two behind the window-blinds of the one passenger coach, and imseen, kept their fingers on the triggers of their repeating carbines. It seemed a long time, counted by anxious seconds, until Foster was safe in the coach.
“All ready, conductor,” said Sinclair. “Now, Foster, good-by. I am not good at lecturing, but if I were you, I would make this the turning-point in my life.”
Foster was much moved.
“I will do it, Major,” said he; “and I shall never forget what you have done for me to-day. I am sure we shall meet again.”