He tried several of the old cars, and finally selected one with a brake that worked to his satisfaction. Together they could just start it, and they pushed it out to the main track. Brainard threw his valise aboard, and took his post, as the railroad man directed him, at the handbrake. “I’ll open the gate for you, and set the switch; then it’s clear sailing. Go slow until you learn the trick, then let her sail. There’s a bad curve about seven miles out, and a couple of miles farther on you’ll find a considerable hill and some up grade. You must let her slide down the hill for all she can do, and take the grade on her own momentum. If you don’t, you may get stuck. I can’t think of anything else. You’ll roll down to the junction in a couple of hours, as pretty as coasting, if that confounded _peon_ hasn’t left the switch open at Cavallo. If he has, you’ll just have to jump for it, and foot it down through the chaparral, if you haven’t broken your neck. Needn’t bother to return the car,” he chuckled. “Is there anything else I can do for you, young man?” “You’ve got me out of a tight hole,” Brainard replied warmly, “and I can’t begin to thank you for it. I hope I shall see you up North some day, and be able to do something for you!” “It isn’t likely we’ll meet in the States. They don’t want me up there!” the Southerner answered slowly. “But perhaps, sometime, you’ll be able to help a poor fellow out of _his_ hole in the same way.” “That woman may strike the scent, and come hot-foot to Vera Cruz by the first train. Well, I’ll have to take my chances there before the boat sails.” “Leave her to me and Hollinger. We’ll give her a tip that you have gone North.” Calloway laughed. “If she won’t take it, there are other ways of stopping her activity. There’s a good deal of smallpox hereabouts, you know, and if the mayor suspected these _gringos_ had the disease, he’d chuck ’em into the pesthouse. Don Salvador does pretty much what I tell him—and the hotel-keeper, too. I think we can keep your friends quiet.” “Get me twelve hours, if you can! And tell Hollinger I’m on the job again.” The two men shook hands; Calloway pushed back the great gate; and the car slid down the track out into the warm, black night, groaning to itself asthmatically as it gathered impetus. XVI The Transatlantique line steamer _Toulouse_ lay off the breakwater of Vera Cruz, smoking fiercely, anchor up, passengers all aboard, ready to sail for Havre. Her departure had been delayed nearly eighteen hours by a fierce “norther,” which had not yet exhausted its fury. They had been anxious hours for Brainard, who had gone aboard the night before, in the expectation of sailing immediately. Now the black smoke pouring from the funnel indicated that the captain had decided to proceed, and Brainard’s spirits rose.