The youth was right. It was nearly three days later when the train entered the city limits of Chicago. Gary and other cities of the Calumet district had been left behind.
After what seemed like hours of constant travel in the metropolis, the freight stopped at a busy switch yard, where scores of trains were moving in all directions.
Suddenly Bob cried out in delight as he caught sight of a man walking up the track. The youth recognized this fellow as the one who had snapped the lock on the box-car door, making the young men and Spike prisoners on the train.
Bob at once called the man, who, upon hearing, turned about in surprise.
“Why—what—what are you doing in that car?” he demanded angrily, as he caught sight of the youth.
“We want to get out!” Bob’s voice was cool and determined.
“But how did you get in there? I thought I locked that door. I——”
“Let us out and we’ll tell you all about it,” Bob pleaded.
The man pulled a bunch of keys out of his pocket and immediately unlocked the door. Bob hurriedly rolled it open and jumped out, followed by Joe and young Spike.