“Couldn’t have been,” declared the conductor. “I’ve been all over the train and know he isn’t aboard.”
“Then who could have turned off the lights in this car?” demanded Bob and the conductor shrugged his shoulders in bewilderment.
“I’ll be glad when we’re at the end of the division,” he said. “This thing is getting my nerves. Next thing I’ll be seeing ghosts. You fellows must have eaten some tainted food.”
“No, that’s out. Neither my companion nor I had a meal together before we got on this train this afternoon and he was taken ill before the evening meal was served in the diner.”
“That’s right,” agreed the conductor. “Well, you puzzle it out. I guess that’s your profession.”
Bob got to his feet. His legs were still a little shaky and the porter hurried away for more coffee. When it was brought Bob drank two more cups of the hot liquid, then he walked up and down the car several times.
“If you can rustle up a sandwich out of the diner, I’ll feel better when I get some more food in my stomach,” said Bob, and the porter went out to fill his request.
The conductor turned to the flagman.
“Don’t leave this car again, except when you have to get off to protect the back end at flag stops,” he ordered. “I don’t want any more mysterious attacks on this train while I’m in charge of it.”
Then he looked at Bob, who was still white around the lips.