But Jack’s fears were to be verified in an unexpected way a few days later. One of the detectives employed by the road had succeeded in disguising himself as a tramp so effectively that he was admitted to their councils, and one night a force of men was gathered at headquarters for an expedition of which none of them knew the destination. It happened to be Jack’s trick, and, when he reported for duty, the train-master called him to one side.
“Welsh,” he said, “we’re going on a little expedition to-night which promises some fun. I thought maybe you’d like that boy of yours to go along,—you seem to want to get him in on everything going.”
“What is it, Mister Schofield?” Jack asked. “Anything dangerous?”
“No,” answered the train-master, “I don’t think there’ll be any real danger, but there may be some excitement. I want you to go and you’d better bring the boy.”
“All right, sir,” said Jack, resolving, however, to keep the boy close to himself.
A caller was sent after Allan, who appeared at the end of a few minutes, his eyes big with excitement.
“What is it?” he asked, as he saw the men grouped together, talking in low tones. “Another wreck?”
“No,” said Jack; “it ain’t a wreck. I don’t know what it is. It’s got something t’ do with th’ tramps, I think. Mebbe you’d better not go.”
“Of course I’ll go,” protested the boy. “I wouldn’t miss it for anything.”
A moment later the men, of whom there were twenty, were divided into parties of four each, and each man was given a short, stout policeman’s club loaded with lead at the end.