Meanwhile rope, handkerchief and red light were in place. Finally the dazzling white light swung around the corner and illumined them. Power was shut off. The great car came to a stop with the scrape of locked wheels on macadam. Greg stepped out of the shadow. He had turned up his collar and pulled down his hat-brim in the time-honored style.
"Get down from your seat," he commanded.
It appeared he had a cool customer to deal with. "Sure, Mike!" was the undisturbed reply. The man jumped down.
"Hands up!" said Greg.
He was obeyed. At the same time the cool voice said: "Sorry, old man, but you've stuck up the wrong train. I ain't carrying no consignment of gold this trip. Thirty-four cents, a pocket knife with a blade missing and a dollar watch, that's the lot. You're welcome to it for the experience."
Greg grinned in return. This was a victim after his own heart. "Much obliged," he answered, matching the other's tone. "Keep the change. This hold-up isn't meant for you personally."
"What is it then?"
"I just want to give your passenger a transfer."
"Gee! A stiff! I suppose you're one of these here now medical students then."
"If you like."