It proved to be a more dangerous undertaking than the boy thought it was. Death by the bullets which constantly whistled over the track, was not the only peril that threatened him now. Believing that the main body of their forces could keep the professor and his handful of students in the car until their cartridges were expended, after which it would be an easy matter to drag them out and hang them as they fully meant to do, the rioters had sent off a strong detachment to look after the boys who had escaped from the rear of the car. Hopkins could see them running through the fields with the intention of getting ahead of the fugitives and surrounding them.
“That’s a very neat plan, but I don’t think it will work,” said Hopkins, as he drew himself together and prepared for another foot-race. “I wish I had known this before I left the culvert so that I could have told—I’ll go back and tell them if I lose my only chance for escape by it.”
Hopkins turned quickly about, but saw at a glance that there was no need that he should waste valuable time by going back to the culvert. The boys were leaving it in a body and making their way across a field. They were going to join their comrades who had left the car, but Hopkins did not know it, for he could not see the company, it being concealed from his view by some thick bushes which grew on that side of the track.
“They’re all right,” said Hopkins, “but it seems to me they are taking a queer way to get home. I’ll stick to the track, because it leads to Bridgeport by the most direct route. Now then for a run! Hallo, here! What’s the matter with you, Stanley?”
While Hopkins was talking in this way to himself, he was flying up the track at a rate of speed which promised to leave the fleetest of the flanking party far behind; but before he had run a hundred yards, he came upon a student who was sitting on the end of one of the ties with his head resting on his hands. As Hopkins drew nearer he saw that the boy had bound his handkerchief around his leg just above his knee, and that it was stained with blood.
“What’s the matter?” repeated Hopkins.
“I’m shot and can’t go any farther,” was the faint reply.
“When did you get it?”
“Just as I jumped from the car.”
“Well, get up and try again. You must go on, for if you stay here you are done for. Look there,” said Hopkins, directing the boy’s attention to the rioters who were trying to surround them.