The train despatcher came into the waiting room, and seeing them walked rapidly toward them.
“Something has gone wrong, gentlemen. We've been talking to Gilsonville and he's all balled up. He isn't the same man who was there fifteen minutes ago.”
“They've got past McDowell then,” said McNally. “And they couldn't have done that without catching him. We'd better get that train away as fast as possible then, hadn't we?”
“I don't think so,” said Porter. “Have them ready to start at a minute's notice, and we'll plan out what's the best thing to do.”
Back in the little office again Porter explained his plan. “You see,” he said, “these fellows are not likely to be very much in a fight. We don't know how many men Weeks has got, but the farther down the line he comes the weaker he'll be. If we let him come far enough we can do the same trick to him that he must have done to McDowell; but if we meet him halfway, he may beat us. That leaves us at his mercy.”
“Do you think Weeks is on the train himself?” asked McNally.
“Can't tell. It would be like him. If he isn't, that young West is. Most likely West is, anyway.”
“He's the man that blocks our game, if he is a fool. If anything should happen to him, there wouldn't be any question as to who was receiver of the road.”
Porter said nothing and there was a long silence. Then McNally went on, speaking slowly and guardedly:—
“If there is anything of a mix-up such a thing would be likely enough to happen. He's young enough and cocky enough to get hurt quite naturally.”