That settled it, for Wilson and Hughes fell into our way of thinking also; and for the first time I scored one against Jack Utley, though at the moment it did not enter my head. We had been moving at a fair rate of speed while this talk was going on, and had rounded several sharp curves, blind to what we were to meet beyond them, when my strong protest bore fruit. The car was stopped and dumped over the bank with a “heave ho”; whereupon I came to the fore again, which must have seemed very much the upstart in me, and proposed what next we’d better do.
“Boys,” said I, “we’d find it to our advantage not to quit the railroad here, for the bank is nothing but mellow ground. We must not leave a trail. Let our pursuers believe that we have kept to the rails. I know we can find a grassy bank near, and over it we can get to the fields without leaving any footprints.”
I have no doubt that my advice would have been taken, had it not been for Utley, who would not, this time, pause for an argument.
“What’s the odds,” he roared, as he trotted down the soft bank, his shoes sinking into the mellow earth, half-ankle deep. I loudly entreated the others not to follow him.
“The hand-car will be missed,” I cried, so vexed that I felt the hot tears burning in my eyes; “it will be known, right away, that we took it. And what then? If the people of the bank have any gumption, they’ll have a special engine, with the sheriff on board, after us in no time. I’m surprised that we are not under arrest already.”
“Tush,” yelled Utley, who stood at the foot of the incline, “are you fools going to stand and listen to that kid? Come on out of this. Are you looking for trouble?”
I still held the attention of the boys, they feeling that my words were worth considering. I urged them to prevail with Utley, whom I knew had much influence with most of them, owing to his skill as a safe-breaking expert.
“Boys,” I insisted, with all the earnestness I could master, “it will mean our undoing to follow Utley. See! he’s already in that fresh-ploughed field. What better guide do we want to leave for those after us to follow?”
“Are you fools still listening to that green kid?” Utley shouted. “Come on, I say. He chatters like a parrot. Less talk and more get-away is my plan. Never mind how.”
It was useless for me to protest further now. I was overruled. The party stalked down the soft bank and on after Utley, who piloted them for some distance through the sinking earth, which left a fine trail after us. I turned to look at it, more to satisfy my wounded feelings, I guess, than anything else. It was so apparent to me that our escape was in jeopardy, that I, after taking in the full significance of the danger, determined to make another appeal. If that was of no avail, why, I would quit the party and shift for myself, regardless of the division of the money.