CHAPTER II
AN INTERRUPTED SLEEP
"Right at this point," said the traveling salesman impressively, "atrain left the track and plunged into that ravine down there."
"Any loss of life?" questioned Tom Gray.
"A great many. I was in that wreck myself. I was shaken up a bit, that'sall. You see I know how to take care of myself. We commercial travelershave to or we should soon be out of business. Nearly the whole trainwent into that ravine, and the car in which I was riding stood on end. Iclung to the air-brake cord and thus was miraculously saved."
"Humph!" muttered Stacy, hunching his fat shoulders forward. "You don'tlook to be light enough to perch on an air-brake cord."
The Overland girls glanced amusedly at Chunky and the travelingsalesman. The entire party was enjoying the late afternoon mountain airfrom the rear platform of the observation car on the transcontinentaltrain known as the Red Limited. Just inside the door sat otherpassengers, who had been enjoying the frequent passages-at-arms betweenStacy Brown and Emma Dean. The train had been rumbling over bridges andlurching through narrow cuts, affording the passengers brief views of aswiftly moving scenic panorama of interest and attractiveness.
"As I was saying, the rope, in all probability, saved my life, as I wasthe only person in the car that came out alive," continued the travelingsalesman. "I'm in ladies' fine shoes, you know."
Stacy and Emma regarded the speaker's large feet, glanced at each otherand grinned.
"I'll bet you couldn't transmigrate them," whispered the fat boy.
Emma elevated her nose, but made no reply to the trivial remark.
"I mean that I am selling ladies' fine shoes, young man," added thesalesman, he having observed the fat boy's grin. "My card." He passedbusiness cards to those nearest to him, and from them the Overlanderslearned that he was William Sylvester Holmes, traveling for a Denvershoe firm. "My trade call me 'Bill,'" he explained.
"Hello, Bill!" muttered Hippy, nudging Nora.
"May I ask what car you were in?" questioned a tall, bronzed passengerin a mild, apologetic voice.
"The same as this one."
"Hm-m-m! That's odd. I do not recall having seen you. However, I was inthe other end of the car, which perhaps accounts for it," said thestranger in a more humble voice.
William Sylvester flushed. Instead of being overcome, however, heshifted his conversation to another train wreck that he said hadoccurred a few miles further on at a place called Summit.
The faces of the Overland Riders expanded into discreet smiles at themild way in which the tall man had rebuked the loquacious traveler.Grace and Elfreda, in particular, found themselves much interested inthis big man. Grace asked a fellow passenger who the man was, andlearned that he was Bill Ford, for some years sheriff of Sonora County.Ford had been observing the traveling salesman through mild blue eyes inwhich there appeared an expression of more than casual interest.
"It was that Summit wreck that nearly did me up," resumed Holmes. "Wewent over an embankment there. Being in a berth in a sleeping car I wasunable to grab hold of anything. The car played football with me, but Icame off with nothing more serious than a broken arm. Oh, I have had myexperiences! Were you in that wreck, too?" he asked, turning quickly tothe sheriff.
"Never heard of it," answered Ford carelessly.
"All that saved us was the fact that the cars were made of steel. We'llpass Summit within the hour, and I'll show you where we went off therails that time."
"Tell us about something that happened when the train didn't leave therails," urged Stacy.
"With pleasure. I remember, some two years ago--it was this very train,I do believe--when a party of bandits held up a train on this line. Thatoccurred between Summit and Gardner. They uncoupled the express car and,after compelling the engineer to haul it up the track a short distance,dynamited the car and robbed it of the treasure it was carrying."
"They've been cutting up that same kind of caper quite lately," noddedthe sheriff.
"Di--id they rob the passengers?" stammered Emma Dean.
"In some of the cars, yes. In my car they did not. I held them off withmy revolver. I----"
"That was very careless of you. Why, sir, you might have shot yourself,"cried Stacy.
Mr. Holmes gave the fat boy a withering glance and resumed his story.
"After my display of courage the other passengers got brave, and withtheir assistance I drove the bandits off. However, I should not adviseit. For the average person, the safe course is to sit still and take hismedicine. Gentlemen, never offer resistance when a gang of banditsorders you to put up your hands, but put them up as fast as you can andlet them stay put," he added, fixing his gaze on Tom Gray who smiled andnodded.
"Yes, sir," agreed Chunky. "That's the way I always do."
"Were you ever held up?" questioned the salesman.
"Many times. I put up my hands too, but there was a gun in both of 'em,"answered Stacy amid much laughter.
At this juncture a passenger asked the storyteller to tell them moreabout the hold-up, which he did without urging.
"The train in question was carrying a treasure, just as this one nodoubt is. The bandits had obtained information of this fact from aconfederate. They were right on the job when the train came along. Afterstopping the train they placed men at the car door to take up acollection from the passengers. All submitted tamely, as they shouldhave done, except in the car where I was, and--we are approaching Summitnow. From that point we go down grade for twenty miles or so, then webegin to climb again. We stop at Summit."
"Isn't it terrible, all that banditry. I'm afraid," shivered Emma when alittle later the party had gone to the dining car for supper.
"For one who can transmigrate as well as you can, there should be nofear," suggested Hippy. "Just transmigrate the bandits to some othertrain."
"I think we should transmigrate ourselves in the event of such a thingoccurring," vouchsafed Elfreda Briggs.
Sheriff Ford came into the dining car shortly after the train had leftSummit, and nodded at the party in a friendly fashion.
"What has become of our story-telling friend, sir?" asked Grace.
"I saw him go into the smoking car ahead as the train was leavingSummit. He sent two telegrams before leaving. This shoe businessrequires a lot of telegraphing, it appears," added the sheriff dryly.
"How do you know it was about shoe business?" demanded Stacy.
"Because I happened to see the last telegram."
Tom Gray eyed the sheriff inquiringly, but the mild blue eyes of Mr.Ford conveyed nothing to him.
After a pleasant evening, during which they saw no more of the travelingsalesman, the Overland party retired to their berths for sleep. Forward,near the express car, rode the Overlanders' ponies in as much comfort asis possible to provide for animals en route. At every stop during theday one of the men of the party had run forward to look over the car of"stock," as the riders called their saddle animals. Now, however, allwere too soundly asleep to think of ponies, and above the rumble of thetrain might be heard the rasping snores of Stacy Brown and HippyWingate.
It was shortly after one o'clock in the morning when many of thesleepers were awakened by a sudden disconcerting jolt caused by anabrupt application of the air brakes. The train slowly settled down to aslow crawl, the hiss of the air from the brakes being plainly audible tothose who had been awakened.
The train stopped. Nothing of an alarming nature seemed to haveoccurred, so the nervous passengers again settled down into theirblankets, for the night air was chill and penetrating. Others lay awake,but there was nothing to hear except the snores which continued withoutinterruption.
A few moments of this and then a subdued murmur of voices was heard justahead of the Overlanders' car. A brief period of silence followed themurmur, then a man's voice, agitated and full of alarm, was raised sohigh that almost every person in the car was awake on the instant.
"We're held up! The train is held up!" cried the man.
"Robbers! Robbers!" screamed the woman who had asked the question; and achorus of frightened voices took up the refrain.
Grace Harlowe's Overland Riders in the High Sierras Page 3
