“Well,” Alex insisted, “we’ve got to get help from some source. Two trains have passed us to-day without a whisper of help. A steamer on the ocean wouldn’t pass a wrecked boat like that!”
Clay bent his head and shielded his ears with cupped palms.
“There’s a train coming now,” he declared.
“That’s the wind!” Alex answered.
“Can’t you hear it pounding, pounding up the grade to the east?” demanded Clay. “There!” he added, as a sharp whistle was borne faintly to their ears against the rush of the wind, “didn’t you hear that?”
“Sure!” Alex replied. “And it isn’t a passenger, either. A loaded freight, all right. Here’s where we get out!”
The roaring of the train wheels, the sharp hissing of the laboring exhaust, the pounding of the straining drivers, came nearer and nearer, then only the wind was heard.
“Phantom train!” Alex laughed. “Nothing doing!”
Case came out of the cabin and stood holding the edge of the door in his hand, his eyes fixed on his chums.
“Do we get away now?” he asked. “I hear a train coming.”