“Well, maybe. You know we ought to follow ’em, and see where they get off, and put somebody on to them. It’s a duty. Likely they’ll change cars at Upgrove for the city.”
“Well, even at that we could get back before very late,” Don said.
“We don’t both have to go. One’s enough. We can draw for it can’t we?”
“Sure. But we’ve got to hurry. Lofton’s next; about six minutes. Here, let’s toss up. What’s yours?”
“Heads. Hold on! The ginks are fixing to get off at Lofton, as sure as you’re——”
The sentence was not finished. The full-bearded German got up to reach for a bundle in the rack above, and the other man lifted a big satchel from the floor. The men got into the aisle and started for the forward end. Not until they were out on the platform and the train almost at a standstill did the boys slip back and into their overcoats, grab their suit cases and make for the rear end, being careful to drop off on the side away from the station platform and then to dodge quickly around a freight car that stood on the siding, peeping beneath it toward the glimmering lights, for now it had begun to grow dark. It chanced that only these four male passengers and one woman got off at Lofton and there was no one waiting for the train, except the station master; therefore, it became an easy matter to note the movements of the two men.
“They’re going out along the track, in a hurry too,” Clem said.
“Going to cross—yes, there they go,” was Don’s observation.
“Out the Galaville road. Come on; let’s see where—”
“I’m going to chuck this suit case in the station.”