"Stopping for a new fireman, sir," answered the conductor, airily. "All aboard!"
As Laurie took his seat, in the cab beside Blundon, he said, with a pale face, "That was my father who spoke."
"Glad of it," bawled Blundon, over the roar of the train. "I hope he's got a gun."
Laurie had often heard that one never could judge of a man until he had been seen engaged in his own especial vocation, and he found it true as regarded Blundon. The old engineer was usually round-shouldered, and had a leisurely, not to say lazy, way of moving about. But the instant his hand touched the throttle of the engine he became alert and keen-eyed, his figure straightened, and the power he possessed intrinsically became visible.
The train sped on for an hour before entering a deep cut, at the end of which they would have to cross a great ravine over a long trestle. A mile or two beyond the trestle was the little manufacturing town of Stoneville. As they entered the cut darkness became blackness, and the train began to slow up a little before going on the trestle.
Laurie shouted in Blundon's ear, "This is a mighty good place for a train robbery!"
Blundon nodded, and Laurie, turning to the window, strained his eyes toward the ravine that showed like a huge black shadow before them. And in the middle of the trestle a red danger signal burned steadily.
"It's there," cried Laurie to Blundon.
By the time the words were out of his mouth a fusillade of shots rattled against the side of the cab.
"Lie down! lie down!" cried Blundon, throwing himself flat on the floor, and Laurie promptly followed suit. Then three ghostly figures leaped on the train, and two of them catching Blundon and Laurie, held them fast, while the third brought the train to a stop.