“There’s a chance,” Joe said. “Let’s ask him to help us out.”
“No, don’t,” pleaded Spike, pulling Joe back.
“Why not?”
“’Cause if he gets you out he won’t let me keep in this car to Chicago.”
“But what about Bob and me? We don’t want to ride all that distance.”
“No. Go ahead and call him,” directed Bob, who was moving up to the door. “Spike can find another car that’s going to Chicago. We want to get home.”
Disregarding the lad’s protest, Joe shouted and motioned for the man to come to the box car. There was a look of surprise on the fellow’s face as he moved over to where the three were trapped.
“What’s it all about?” he demanded. “You guys trying to steal a ride, huh? Come on out of there and pick a car that ain’t got anything in it.”
“We can’t get out,” explained Joe. “Locked in, I guess. That’s what we wanted of you. See if you can get the door open.”
“Oh! So they penned you up, huh? Yeah. I see that locked chain now. Sorry, but I’m afraid I can’t do anything for you.”