It was a bitter struggle there in the narrow, darkened aisle of the Pullman. Hamsa kicked out viciously and the blow caught Bob in the stomach. He felt sick all over and dropped into the aisle, crouching there and seeking temporary shelter until he felt able to resume the battle. Hamsa bent down and searched for the flash light and Bob lashed out at him with one foot. The blow caught the other in the face and was answered by a startled exclamation of pain and rage. Then Bob’s own hands came upon the flash light. He picked it up and his fingers sought the little button which controlled its beam of light. Bob turned on the light and the rays swept down the aisle, coming to rest on the battered face of Hamsa. It was not until then that Bob realized how powerful had been his own blows for it was obvious that his assailant was in distress. Now if he could land a real knockout he would be able to leave Hamsa long enough to summon assistance from the trainmen. Bob started down the aisle, but pulled up short when Hamsa drew a gun from his coat pocket. The young federal agent, unarmed, was in no position to face a man with a gun and he tried to duck behind a seat. But Hamsa fired a snap shot and the flash light, shattered by the bullet, dropped out of Bob’s numbed hand. The tables had been turned. Where Bob had held the advantage a moment before with the flash light, Hamsa, aided by the darkness and his gun, was in a position to win. But he had evidently had enough of hand to hand encounters for one night and Bob heard him running toward the rear of the car. A moment later the door of the Pullman slammed shut. Bob stepped out into the aisle and massaged his right hand. It prickled sharply as the blood flowed back into the fingers which had been bruised by the flash light as the bullet had torn it out of his hands. Then Bob took up the chase, for he felt sure that Hamsa must be seeking his hideout on the train. If he could trace him to it, he would summon the trainmen to assist in the capture. Bob stepped cautiously into the rear vestibule of the car. There was no one there and the door to the next Pullman was open. He hastened inside and met a startled porter in the aisle. “Did a man just go down the aisle?” asked Bob. “Yes, sir, Boss, and he looked like he’d been in a fight.” “That’s the fellow I’m after,” said Bob. “Run up ahead and get the conductor and any other trainmen you can. Tell them to get back here as fast as they can.” Then Bob hastened down the aisle and the porter, willing enough to leave the car, went forward to carry out Bob’s instructions. The young federal agent hastened through a second Pullman where the lights were low and finally stepped into the observation car. So far there had been no trace of Hamsa and no indication that he had sought shelter under one of the trap doors in the vestibules.