“You won’t get out of it for a good many years,” put in one of the officers. “So you might as well keep your temper to yourself.”
The burning of the red fire and the pistol-shots had aroused all the passengers, and they crowded around when the prisoners were brought to the train.
A loosened and misplaced rail was found on the track a hundred feet farther ahead. It was quickly adjusted and fastened down, and then the express proceeded to the next large station.
At the depot there was a perfect jam, including many women, who had been passengers on the express. They watched the transferring of the prisoners to the platform with deep interest.
“William Dix!” suddenly cried a woman from out of the crowd.
Everybody, including Bob, turned toward the woman. She was a person apparently forty years of age and dressed in black.
“Bill Dix! I must see that man!” went on the woman, and she tried to push her way forward.
“Do you know the man?” questioned one of the officers.
“Yes, yes! I have been hunting for him for a long time! Oh, let me speak to him!”
“You may do so at the station-house.”