Perhaps Young expected Joe to look away for a moment, for he suddenly shot out his right fist straight at the younger boy’s face. But Joe had not moved his gaze a fraction from Young’s countenance and he read what was coming before the arm was drawn back for the blow. Instinctively he dodged to the right and Young’s fist went harmlessly past his head. Then something took him in the knees――he surmised afterwards that it was Young’s suit-case――and he went staggering back against the station wall. When he recovered himself Young was darting across the platform, bag swinging wildly, and even as he started in pursuit his quarry tossed the suit-case onto the forward platform of the last car, trotted alongside and, aided by the porter, who had been in the act of closing the vestibule door, sprang aboard! A dozen strides told Joe that he could never reach that platform. The train, gaining speed every instant, was now moving rapidly out of the station and beside him the lighted windows of the last car slipped past. There was but one thing to do and he determined to do it, or, at least, make a try. Slackening his pace a little, he let the length of the car go past him and then, spurting desperately, heedless of the warning shouts of lookers-on, he managed to grasp the forward rail of the last steps! The speed of the train lifted him from his feet and hurled him against the rear railing. He made a clutch for this, but failed, and swung outward again, dangling, his feet trailing along the planks of the station platform. Cries of alarm arose from the watchers behind. But Joe held on, searched with his left hand for a hold, knocked his knees bruisingly against the car steps, got one on the lower ledge, and, somehow, dragged himself to his feet, clinging at last to the brass gate that closed the platform off and fighting for breath! For a full minute he clung there, dizzy, conscious of smarting contusions about his knees and of a dull ache in one hip where he had collided with the railing. Finally he climbed over the gate, tried the door and found it unlocked and stepped inside a handsome library-compartment in which a half-dozen men were seated about in the cane easy-chairs reading. His appearance elicited no surprise. Perhaps they thought he had been on the platform while the train was in the station. At all events, although the occupants of the compartment raised their eyes as the door opened, only one of the number displayed any interest in the boy’s advent.