The brakeman shrugged his shoulders. "Ask them punchers," he replied.
The conductor lifted his voice. "What's the matter?" he called.
"Oh, come and see! Come and see!" said the punchers. "It's too good to tell.'"
The conductor shut his watch with a snap.
"Five minutes late," he said. "Pete, go and hustle them people over here. I start in three minutes by the watch."
"Sure," said Pete, and slouched across. Pete was surprised at the sight that met his gaze, but orders were orders. He walked up and kicked Billy, at the same time shouting "All aboard for the West! Git a wiggle on yer!"
The man owed his life to the fact that the deer could get no foothold on the slippery hardwood floor. As it was, Billy tried to push, and his feet shot out; man and deer came to the floor together, the brakeman holding hard. The passengers boiled out of the hotel like a mountain torrent. The punchers, thinking the brakeman in danger, sprang through the window and tied the deer. Pete gasped his thanks and hustled out. No one was left but Billy, the punchers, the darkey waiters, and Mr. D——.
