She left her seat, following the conductor slowly to the end of the car. Ostensibly she went for a drink, but the moment the blue-coated official had passed through to the next car, Dorothy went out into the vestibule. The brakeman chanced to be out of sight at the moment.
The doors on the “off” side of the vestibule were locked, but Dorothy could peer through the glass. Directly beneath her she could see the broken top of the old army hat.
“He’s there!” gasped Dorothy, running back to Tavia. “Whatever shall we do about it?”
“I wish Lance was here,” said her friend. “He’d know what to do.”
“We can’t have men-folk around to help us out of all our troubles,” sniffed Dorothy.
“This isn’t trouble,” declared Tavia. “It’s really nothing to us——”
“But suppose the poor man should fall off?”
“We’re anxious for nothing, I wager,” said Tavia. “He is probably used to riding on car steps.”
“It’s such a narrow place,” groaned Dorothy. “He can’t more than cling to it. Oh! here’s a curve!”
They whirled around this corner and then over a long trestle that crossed a placid river. When the train did stop the girls did not see the tramp get off. All the stations chanced to be on the other side, as Killock had been.