“I don't care. Give up the satchel, or I'll call the train hands.”
“I'll give up nothing, boy! Stand out of my way!”
Gaff Caven gave Joe a violent shove which sent our hero up against a seat. Then he turned and ran from the car, with Pat Malone ahead of him.
“Stop them!” cried Joe, as soon as he could recover. “Stop the thieves!”
Others took up the cry, but before anything could be done Caven and Malone were out of the car and on to the tracks. Both stared around in perplexity for a second.
“Come on, we can't afford to waste time here!” cried Caven, and ran for the bank of the cut, up which he scrambled hastily, with his confederate at his side.
Joe saw them make the move and was not slow to follow. Near at hand was a tall, western young man, with bronzed features and a general outdoor manner.
“Say!” cried our hero. “Will you help me to catch those two men? They are thieves and I want them arrested. If you'll help me catch them I'll pay you well for your trouble.”
“I'll go you, stranger!” answered the western young man, readily. “You are certain of your game?”
“Yes. That satchel has their plunder in it. They robbed a friend of mine.”