“I want to finish making a few entries, and then I’ll come to bed, Jerry,” replied Uriah Snodgrass. “I won’t be long.”
The train slowly pulled out of the shed, followed a little later by the second section. Until they reached Livingston, Montana, the boys would travel on the steel rails. In Livingston they would be met by Tinny, who would have a car for them, since they were going into a part of the state inadequately served by railroads.
“And now for a good sleep,” sighed Jerry, with relief, as he stretched out between the sheets. The steady motion of the train and the click of the wheels over the rail joints was lulling him to slumber when he was suddenly roused by the voice of the fat man in the berth above him.
Jerry well remembered the fat passenger, who had tried in vain to get a lower berth from the porter. The colored czar of the sleeper had only said:
“No, sah. We’s done filled up. No lowers.”
With a sigh the fat man had resigned himself to his fate, and it was his voice that now echoed through the hitherto silent car as he cried:
“Get out! Get out! Porter! Conductor! I’m being robbed! Help!”
“Can this be a hold-up?” thought Jerry, reaching out to part the green curtains.
At the same time he heard the voice of Professor Snodgrass in evident distress.