"I won't if you are good and kind and obliging," said Crosby sternly. "Turn around—face the engine. That's right. Now listen to me. I've got this pistol jammed squarely against your back, and if you make a false move—well, you won't have time to regret it. Answer my questions too. How long is that bridge?"
"I—I do—don't kno—ow."
"It's rather long, isn't it?"
"With the fill and trestle it's nearly half a mile."
"What is the next stop west of here for this train?"
"Hopville, forty mile west."
"Where does the east-bound train stop next after leaving here?"
"It don't stop till it gits over in Indiana, thirty mile or more."
"I'm much obliged to you. Now walk straight ahead until you come to the blind end of the mail car."
At the front end of the mail car Crosby and his prisoner halted. Every one knows that the head end of the coach just back of the engine tender is "blind." That is, there is no door leading to the interior, and one must stand outside on the narrow platform if, perchance, he is there when the train starts. As the east-bound train pulled in from the bridge, coming to a stop on the track beyond the west-bound train, Crosby commanded his erstwhile captor to climb aboard the blind end of the mail coach.