"Fellow," he asked of the tall prisoner, "what on earth made you stop this train?"
"Hard up," replied the man sullenly. "And a friend told us that the last time he held up a mail train, he and his pal found twelve thousand dollars in the registered mail pouches."
"You'll find at least twelve years in the mail pouches this trip," retorted Major Davis grimly.
Half an hour later a stop was made at a little tank station, to enable Major Davis to wire ahead to Salida for officers to be in readiness when they arrived.
Then the train crawled on again through the inky darkness. Noll relieved Hal, presently, though there seemed little need of alertness. The two prisoners capable of fighting looked pretty well cowed. Down at the rear end of the car, covered with a rubber blanket, lay the rigid remains of the man killed by the major.
Something more than an hour late the train pulled in at Salida. There was a crowd on hand, including four sheriff's officers. These latter came to the baggage car just before the train stopped.
"Will you take full responsibility for the prisoners now?" asked Major Davis of one officer who led the rest and who displayed his badge.
"Yes, sir," replied the deputy sheriff.
"Then I'll go and have something to eat," smiled the major dryly. "My men, do you eat here, too?"
"Yes, sir," Hal answered, saluting.