He only
shook his head in acknowledgment, breathing heavily.
In a few minutes the train had come abreast of them and stopped. They
could hear the weary puffing of the engine, and voices calling and
occasionally they caught the gleam of a lantern through the crack in
the car. Pee-wee remained very still. The convict took his stand in the
middle of the car between the two sliding doors, lowering and alert,
holding the flashlight and the clasp knife.
Soon the train moved again, then stopped. There were calls from one end
of it to the other. Then it started again and continued to move until
Pee-wee thought it was going away, and his hope revived at the thought
that escape might yet be possible. Then the sound came nearer again and
presently the car received a jolt, accompanied by a bang. The convict
was thrown a little, but he resumed his stand, waiting, desperate,
menacing. Those few minutes must have been dreadful ones to him as he
watched the two doors, knife in hand.
Then came more shunting and banging and calling and answering, a short,
shrill whistle and more moving and then at last the slow, continuous
progress of the car, which was evidently now at last a part of that
endless miscellaneous procession, rattling along through the night with
its innumerable companions.
"It's lucky for them," said the convict, through his teeth, as he
relaxed.
Pee-wee hardly knew what he meant, he had scarcely any interest, and it
was difficult to hear on account of the noise.
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