“You can count on that,” and with these words Plum began to climb over the tender toward the line of cars behind.
The bridge of the Rio Tasma was now in plain sight, and Jack’s whole attention was fixed upon the new structure that spanned the rapid stream.
Everything seemed all right there, so he allowed the train to rush on at unabated speed.
There was a wild fascination about this perilous trip that Jack could not shake off. Every moment he expected to run into some unknown danger, and he would not have been surprised to find the bridge suddenly collapsing beneath the train.
But nothing of the kind occurred, and the engine was speedily across the stream.
He was approaching the place where he had so narrowly escaped death from the falling bowlder, and he could not help glancing toward the top of the cliff, as he was carried around the curve.
At that moment the report of a gun rang out sharply on the air, the sound coming from the rear of the train.
Then an answering report came from the depths of the forest ahead!
“The men in the car are signaling to the raiders!” flashed through Jack’s mind, and, simultaneously with the thought, he gave the bell cord a quick jerk.
“If Plum has only got there,” he thought, as he turned his gaze upon the course ahead.