"I wonder what's the matter?" Roy said aloud. He was overheard by the gentleman who had talked to him about the gamblers, and who had given his name, as John Armstrong.
"I think we've had an accident," said Mr. Armstrong.
"An accident? Is anybody killed?"
"No, I do not think so. Suppose we get out and see what the trouble is?"
They left their seats, and joined the other passengers who were walking toward the head of the train, which was a long one. It did not take many seconds to ascertain that an accident had occurred to the engine of the express, and that it would be necessary to send to the next station to get materials to make repairs.
"That means we'll be held here for some time," observed Mr. Armstrong. "Well, if the delay is not too long, it will give you a chance to walk about and stretch your muscles."
"And I'll be glad enough to do it," replied Roy. "I'm not used to sitting still, and it sure is very tiresome to me. I'd like to have my pony, Jack Rabbit, here now. I'd take a fine gallop."
"Well, I think a walk will have to answer in place of it now. There does not seem to be much in the way of amusements at this station."
The depot was a mere shanty, with a small telegraph and ticket office in it. A few houses and a store made up the "town," which was located on the plains.
As Roy started toward the depot many of the passengers got back in their cars, as the sun was hot. Roy, however, rather enjoyed it. Among those who had alighted were Mr. Baker and his three cronies. They stood on the depot platform, talking together.