Among the travelers in the smoking-car was one whom we must notice. About thirty years of age, he had keen, dark eyes, and hair that partook of the same shade and fell in a wave upon his shoulders.
He had a graceful mustache, and his regular features made him rather more than passably good-looking.
He was simply, almost roughly, clad.
At the first sound of the whistle he had started up, and had seemed to take an interest.
At the next alarm a couple of guns sprang to his hands, and he called on the others in the smoker with him to prepare for a possible attempt at robbery.
There were, perhaps, a score of men in that car.
Some of them drew guns, but when the train stopped and the masked men with their Winchesters appeared, the sight took all the bravery out of them.
The young man we have described, like the others, after a hasty look around to see what the others were doing, raised his hands, but the weapons remained close beside him on the cushion.
They were not allowed to leave their seats; all that was required of them was to sit still and keep their hands in sight.
This they did.