crowding perils of the instant, marveling at his wonderful escape from death.
"They must think I went clear to the ground," theorized Ralph. "I am safe for the present, at least. What an adventure! And Woods is in league with the freight thieves! That solves the problem for the railroad company.
"An empty car," he said, as he finally struggled to his feet. "I'll wait till the train stops again and then run ahead to Barton. Hello!" he exclaimed sharply, as moving about the car, his foot came in contact with some object.
Ralph stood perfectly still. He could hear deep, regular breathing, as of some one asleep. His curiosity impelled him to investigate farther. He took a match from his pocket, flared it, and peered down.
Directly in one corner of the car lay a big, powerful man. He was dressed in rags. His coat was open, and under it showed a striped shirt.
"Why!" exclaimed Ralph, "a convict—an escaped convict!"
The man grasped in one hand, as if on guard with a weapon of defense, a pair of handcuffs connected with a long, heavy steel chain. Apparently he had in some way freed himself from these.
Ralph flared a second match to make a still
