"No, he has on a blue uniform. Might be a conductor; or he may work around a station, or—"
Raspingly and distinctly above the clatter-clatter of the hand car, a voice shouted from below.
"Stop!"
"He's calling to us."
"Let him call. Maybe he's just making a speech to the trestle." Thus Specs.
"Stop that hand car!"
They had already spanned the tiny bridge and were upon the solid track beyond. Just ahead, the rails curved around a steep bank.
"Let him yell," said Bi defiantly. "He hasn't any way of stopping us, has he? Probably thinks we are stealing this old pushcart. Well, we aren't."
"What's he got to do with it, anyhow?" spluttered Nap, plunging harder than ever on the handle. "We had permission to do this, and we're going to do it, Mr. Blue Uniform or not."
It was Bunny who settled the matter. Throwing his weight on the bar as it came up, and holding it back as it swung down, he issued his orders as patrol leader. "Everybody hold fast. We're going to stop and find out what he wants."