“Forget it!” cried Alex. “It is right now.”
Outside the trainmen were letting the axle, clothed with new wheels, down on the track, which they did with a spiteful bump. For an instant all three boys lost their footing and came together with a dash which nearly threw them to the floor. The incident brought them closer together, socially as well as physically, and they were making friends fast when the car was hauled out on the main line.
“You’re a new one on me,” Alex was saying when the conductor gave the signal and the train went rattling off toward the Pacific ocean.
When the car was well under way Clay and the others began asking questions of each other and of the stranger, who seemed nervous and anxious to get away—eager to leave the boat, yet longing to remain!
“Where did you come from?” asked Clay, after the boys were gathered about the table for the delayed supper. “Queer thing, your lighting down on us here, at the summit of the Rocky mountains. Do you belong to the gang over there by the campfire?”
The lad gave a quick start of surprise and shook his head.
“When did you get here?” asked Alex. “Was it you prowling around the car just after sunset?”
The boy nodded, but did not answer the first question by saying when he had reached that locality.
“How did you get here?” put in Case. “I don’t think you’ve walked to the great divide.”
“Why, I came on that train,” was the reply.