Something of Archie's recklessness and disregard of consequences affected Curly.
"Well, all right," he said; "come on."
They went to the door of the car. And there, looking full in their faces, was a switchman with a red, rough face and a stubble of reddish beard. The switchman drew back with a curse to express his astonishment, his surprise, the sudden fright that confused and angered him.
"Come out o' that, you hobos," he called, stepping back. The men in the lumber-yard heard his sudden cry, stopped and looked up. The switchman cursed and called again.
Curly and Archie shrank into the darkness of the car. Archie had drawn his revolver.
"Put it up," said Curly, with the anger of his disappointment.
They waited and listened; the switchman's voice was heard no more; he must have gone away.
"He'll blow us to the railroad coppers. Now's our only chance!"
They went to the door, leaped out, bent their heads and ran. And instantly, with the howl of the hunter, the men in the lumber-yard, not knowing Archie or Curly or what they had done, or whether they had done anything, left their work and ran after them, raising the old hue and cry of English justice. Even the engines in the yards joined by sounding sharp, angry blasts on their whistles, and behind the little group that was rapidly becoming a mob, raced the switchman with two of the railroad's detectives.
As swiftly as they could, in their stiffness and their hunger and their cold, Archie and Curly ran down the long yards, over cinders and uneven ties. They ran for a quarter of a mile and the yard narrowed, the tracks began to converge, to unite, marking the beginning of the main line. On either side rose the clayey banks, ahead there was a narrow cut with an elevated crossing; near this was a switchman's shanty. Just then something sang over their heads, a musical humming sound. They knew the sound a bullet makes and dodged into the switchman's shanty, slammed the door behind them, locked it and, a moment later, were at bay with the mob. The crowd surged up to the very door, flung itself against the shanty. Then Curly called: