"Half a minute," Barcus answered, dodging suddenly back into the car.
When he reappeared, after some five minutes, Rose accompanied him, and Barcus was smiling.
"Sorry to keep you waiting, old top," he explained, "but I was smitten with an inspiration. There didn't seem to be any sense in letting the amiable Judith loose upon this fair land, so I found a coil of wire in the porter's closet and wired the handle of the drawing-room door fast to the bars across the aisle. It'll take her some time to get out."
"What about the window?"
"It doesn't open wide enough for anybody but a living skeleton to get through."
"You don't yet know the lady," said Alan with grim foreboding.
Ten minutes more had passed before the two grimy and perspiring gentlemen succeeded in placing the hand-car upon the tracks. Far back along the line a locomotive hooted mournfully.
"That's a freight whistle," Barcus advised, helping Rose aboard the hand-car.
"Maybe you can distinguish the whistle of a freight-car locomotive from that of a passenger-train engine. I don't say you can't, but I'll take no chance on your judgment being good. Hop aboard here, if you're coming with us!"
Groaning soulfully, Barcus hopped aboard.
