“Suppose we turn in,” he suggested. “We may need plenty of energy tomorrow. It’s possible for almost anything to happen, you know.”
Joe nodded and took his place beside his friend, but Spike announced that he would remain up awhile longer.
Almost at once the youths fell asleep. But from their experiences in dangerous lands they had learned to keep one eye open as a precaution.
This proved to be unnecessary, however, and they awoke the next morning greatly refreshed.
“We’re on the other side of the mountains,” observed Joe, as he stretched and glanced out of the crack.
“Now maybe we can make better time,” Bob said, moving over to the door.
The three travelers were forced to begin the day without breakfast. Spike insisted that they open the crates of apples, but Bob firmly refused.
“We may find some way out today,” the youth consoled him. “If we have to, we can eat a few of those apples tonight.”
All morning the train continued on its journey, passing small towns and villages. Along toward noon it stopped at Charleston, West Virginia, where after an hour of switching it was left on a side track.
Suddenly Joe, who was standing by the crack, caught sight of a trainman not far away. The man’s face was rather pleasant, with no trace of gruffness.