“Where did you see him?” asked Reggie eagerly.
“On top of a lumber pile,” was the answer.
“On top of a lumber pile?” repeated his friend, with a puzzled air. “What on earth was he doing there?”
“Swinging a baby above his head and threatening to throw it down on the railroad track,” replied Joe.
Reggie stared blankly at Joe, as though he thought he was suddenly bereft of reason.
“I never was good at riddles, old chap,” he said. “Tell me just what you are driving at.”
And then Joe told him all the happenings of the day before, while Reggie looked at him with open-eyed wonder.
“And you brought him down with the first shot,” he marveled. “That aim of yours is certainly a pippin. McRae made no mistake when he got you on his staff.”
“It was a case of touch and go,” remarked Joe. “I simply had to get him on that first try. If I’d missed him then, I’d never have had a chance for a second shot.”
“I’m glad the poor beggar wasn’t badly hurt,” said Reggie. “Are you sure that he’s perfectly safe down in the jail?” he added as an afterthought.