The rumble of the passenger could be heard, growing rapidly in volume.
"Well," remarked McGlory, as he and Matt got up, "we've shuffled off the hoodoo and nothing more will go crossways with us. That's worth a whole lot. And if Tsan Ti is fool enough to choke himself with that yellow cord, well, let him do it. Grattan was more than half right in what he said about that."
The train, with its row of dimly lighted windows, came to a halt. Matt and McGlory climbed aboard, and the train started on again.
The boys walked from one car into another trying to find a vacant seat which they could share together. At last Matt, who was in the lead, came to a halt in the aisle at the rear of the second coach.
"Move on, pard," said McGlory. "We'll try the next car. It can't be that all the coaches are as full as this one."
But Matt did not move on. He turned, amazement shining in his gray eyes, and pointed to a seat ahead of him, and on the right.
Two drowsy Chinamen occupied the seat. One of them was fleshy, and took up two-thirds of the space. This man wore a black silk cap with a red button. His chin was sunk on his breast and he was snoring loudly.
"Tsan Ti!" murmured McGlory, wondering if his eyes were playing him a trick.
"And Sam Wing," added Matt. "The mandarin is going to Catskill to get the ruby. Here's where I have to tell him the truth."
With that, Motor Matt leaned over and touched Tsan Ti on the shoulder.