“All right. I’d be glad of your company if you feel that way about it.”
“Something tells me I had better leave the fish to their watery beds today,” said I.
“All right,” answered our new acquaintance.
And the three of us started on a brisk walk in what seemed a circuitous direction. The District Attorney knew the lay of the land, and after about twenty minutes we came upon the railroad tracks. Here we turned back in the direction of the deserted house.
In about three-quarters of an hour we came upon a distant view of the wreck around a bend. A railroad gang was at work, straightening the tangled mess caused by three freight cars which had left the rails.
The District Attorney approached the foreman of the gang and made himself known.
“Anybody hurt?” he asked.
“Nope. Not going very fast. We hope to get the tracks cleared by tomorrow.”
“Do you mind if I look around—over the cars?” asked the District Attorney.
“Go ahead,” replied the foreman.