CHAPTER VII.
IN WHICH A LINE IS DRAWN AND CROSSED.
"Say, are you asleep?" came the low voice of the tramp at the side of Banborough's berth in the early hours of the morning.
The speaker stood in the aisle of the sleeper and was bending over him, half dressed, the contrast between the sleek outer garments of the Quaker and the rough underwear of the tramp giving him a most grotesque appearance.
"Eh? what?" said Cecil, rousing himself, and noting, as he did so, that it was still dark. A moment later he was fully awake, saying, as he sat up in his bunk: "Is anything the matter?"
"I'm afraid so. We've stopped here more'n ten minutes already, and we're scheduled to run through."
"Well, what of it?" said the Englishman, somewhat testily, for he was very weary, and resented having his rest broken. "I suppose it's only a hot box."
"Hot box be blowed! It's us they're after. If you looks round the corner of your curtain, you can see the cops on the platform."
Cecil did as he was bidden, and, drawing back hastily, said: