"Yes. Be quiet."
Grace Carter, the girls' companion, occupied the berth above them. As no sound had been heard from that quarter it was reasonable to suppose that Grace had not been awakened by the conversation of the two men.
Barbara was trembling violently. She was profoundly affected by what she had overheard. Yet while she had heard a name mentioned and a threat made against the owner of that name, she was in the dark as to the meaning of the threat—she did not understand what it was that this man proposed to do. Her ears were now strained to catch every word uttered on the other side of the partition.
"I shall watch the market with interest, Nat," the second speaker was saying. "I don't say that I approve of your way of getting revenge, but that is your own affair. Remember, however, that people who play with fire are sooner or later sure to be singed."
The other man laughed.
"My feathers were singed a long time ago, Jim," he said.
"Well, here's where I get off. Good luck, old man, and good night."
The train had moved forward slowly, halting at a station a short distance from the last stop. The man who had made the threats accompanied his friend to the door of the car, then instead of returning to the seat he had occupied with his friend, he seated himself opposite the section occupied by the girls.
Bab, determined to know who the man was, peered cautiously between the curtains.
"It's the man in section thirteen!" she exclaimed. Then she realized that she had expressed her thought aloud.