Tom pulled on the reins and Star planted his feet; they went sliding past the Sentry with his rifle glinting in the moonlight. "Halt there!" came the second warning as Star came to a stop. "Put your hands up!"
Tom dropped the reins and raised his hands. Star, almost winded, seemed propped upon his legs, rather than standing upon them. His head drooped and each breath came as a great heave.
"Who are you?" demanded the Sentry.
"Friend," answered Tom.
"Password?"
"Haven't got it. I'm…."
"Keep your hands up," interrupted the Sentry; then he bawled out: "Sergeant o' the gua-r-r-d. Post number-r six." The call was repeated as though by an echo.
"I'm one of the railroad raiders," continued Tom. "I'm…."
"What?" yelled the Sentry. "Are you one of them? Say! Put those hands down and let me shake 'em. Say!"