It was good to feel their feet on the ground again. Bob and Joe could have cried out in joy. But there was little time to do this, for the trainman demanded an explanation of their presence.
Briefly Bob narrated the circumstances that led to their boarding the train, shielding Spike as much as possible. When he had finished, the man viewed the young lad critically.
“I think I’ll turn you over to the yard master,” he said to Spike, “and see that you get what’s coming to you.”
He roughly caught hold of the boy’s arm and pulled him forward.
“Wait a minute,” begged Joe. “Spike didn’t do any harm. He’s promised to quit running around and go home and go to school.”
“Well, he ain’t gonna get no sympathy from me. I got no use for a kid that rides freights.”
He gave the boy another pull, this time so violent that the latter slipped and fell, bruising his face on the cinders.
Bob grew furiously angry. He stepped boldly up to the trainman.
“Let the boy alone!” he demanded, his eyes seeming to penetrate the man.