ground. The space was widening as Barcus released the knob and threw himself over the rail. By a flying leap, the man gained the platform. Then their engine ground slowly to a halt as the rear lights of the train swept from sight around a bend.
And then the engineer, backed by his fireman, started an argumentative complaint. "They hadn't bargained to be shot at with pistols," and so forth, and so forth. But while engineer and fireman were "chewing the rag like a couple of sea-lawyers," as Mr. Barcus elegantly phrased it, there came a diversion.
Revolvers began to pop once more. And they looked up the track to see the special backing down upon them, several persons on the back platform plying busy trigger-fingers all the while.
As these last threw open the platform gates and dropped to the ballast, still perforating the air with many bullets, all those under fire turned simultaneously and sought shelter at the rear of the tender. At a word from Alan, Barcus and the two girls ran on with him around the engine, and, undiscovered, made for the special now close at hand on the track ahead. It began to move forward as they reached it, but they scrambled aboard somehow. Mr. Barcus who had acted as rear-guard, or at any rate bullet-shield, for the others, heaved a heartfelt sigh as he
