He was in this mood when they returned to their own car and dropped into their seats.
The train had made one stop at a large city and several passengers had come into the Niagara. Two men had taken the seat just in front of that in which Sammy sat.
The boys were the least bit tired after all the stir and movement of the day, and were snuggled up in their seats without doing much talking. But Sammy's imagination was running riot with what might happen if fate chanced to be good to him, and he sat bolt upright and very wide awake.
He amused himself by studying the men in front of him. He could get only an occasional side view of their faces, and from what he saw they looked pleasant enough. But then, Sammy reflected, you never can tell. He had seen a picture of a murderer in a New York paper not long before, and the man looked so frank and smiling that one would not think he could harm a mouse. Sometimes a good face was a bad man's stock in trade.
Suddenly Sammy heard a remark from one of the men that made him prick up his ears.
"Yes," he said, "he tried to make it, but Billy was too quick for him. He killed him right then and there."
"Good work," said the other approvingly.
"You ought to have seen him kick," continued the first man. "I had to laugh when I saw his face."
Sammy was horror stricken!