As he ran on down the street he heard a voice behind him calling:
“Here! Hold on! Stop! Who are you?”
“Hen Sylvester!” gasped Joe. “He’s seen me and he’s suspicious. Well, I’ve no time to stop and explain now. I’d miss the train sure!”
He ran on, faster than before. He heard the patter of feet behind him, and again the hail:
“Hold on, or I’ll shoot!”
“He’ll only shoot in the air if he does,” Joe told himself. “I’ll take a chance. I guess he doesn’t know who I am.”
He was near the freight depot now. Another few steps and he was on the long covered platform along which the train was moving. None of the trainmen or depot freight handlers were in sight. It was a “light” night, and they had gotten through early.
Joe watched the train gliding along in front of him, rapidly acquiring speed. The platform was on a level with the floor of the freight cars.
“If I could only see one with an open door,” mused Joe. “Then I could dive into it. I don’t dare take a chance of jumping in between two cars. I might slip down between the buffers.”
Eagerly he watched the gliding train. Oh, for an open door!