But Phil was restless. He was so afraid that he would oversleep that he slept very little during the night.
At the first streak of dawn he tumbled quietly from his berth, and, putting on his clothes, stepped out to the front platform, where he took a long breath of the fresh morning air.
The train was climbing a long grade in the Sierra Nevadas and the car couplings were groaning under the weight put upon them.
Phil climbed to the top of the big stock car just ahead of him, and sat down on the brake wheel.
Far ahead he saw several men going over the cars.
"They have not only begun the search but they are almost through," muttered Phil. "As I thought, they are not half doing it. I guess I'll take a hand."
Phil stood up, caught his balance and began walking steadily over the top of the swaying car. At the other end of the car he opened the trap door which was used to push hay through for the animals, examining its interior carefully. There was no sign of a stranger inside, nor did he expect to find any there.
"He'll be in a place less likely to be looked into," muttered the lad starting on again and jumping down to a flat car just ahead.