CHAPTER XIV
AT THE THROTTLE OF A FREIGHT ENGINE
Taking Bob to the caboose, the freight conductor made him known to the brakemen who were lolling about, smoking.
"So you're the kid Miser Jenkins thought stole your pass?" exclaimed one of the trainmen, after a searching scrutiny of the boy. "He must be losing his eyesight. That face of yours ought to vouch for you, if nothing else. Crooks don't have such honest faces."
"Oh, the miser was probably trying to pull off one of his grand-stand plays," commented another. "Passes are pretty rare birds, nowadays, and I suppose he thought he could make a hit with the company by inquiring about this one."
"And instead of that, he got hit himself. Brown, in the despatcher's office, told me the message Jenkins received from Chicago was red hot."
From the remarks, Bob could see plainly that the officious conductor was not popular, and he was wondering whether or not he was expected to make any comment, when Hosmer said, his face suffused with a look of glee:
"Well, the boys are going to put one over on the 'miser'."
And, pausing aggravatingly, the freight conductor filled his pipe and lighted it.