"This is no time for thinkin’ o’ tickets. Let the conductor be glad if, after the train is on its way, you got the price o’ one o’ them long, floatin’ streamer-effec’s he carries in his vest-pocket, to amuse ’mself punchin’ holes in it." They sped into Burbank under all the power Sam dared put on. "Thank God!" sobbed Ellen Hinckley. But when they reached the station, no train was in sight, the place was virtually deserted. Sam drew up beside the platform and, for a moment sat quite still, evidently cogitating. "No such thing! The train ain’t gone!" said Martha, as if he had maintained it had. "It’s only five minutes to one." "It might have been ahead of time." "Did you ever know one was?" inquired his wife. He got out and made his way to the waiting-room. A moment and he was back. "There’s been delays back along the road. The train’s two hours late. It won’t be here till three, or after." "Well, what do you think o’ that!" said Martha. The next instant she was dragging Ellen Hinckley into the waiting-room, through it, and on into the telegraph-operator’s booth. "Say, young fella," she addressed him bluntly, "this party here’s in danger of her life. Me an’ my husban’ is gettin’ her out o’ harm’s way, which he’s hot on our track. He’ll be along any minute. Think o’ your mother, if you ever had one. An if not, think o’ some other female o’ the same sect, only younger. Lend a hand, anyhow, to help us out, will you?" The youth eyed Mrs. Slawson dubiously. "How do I know——?" he began objecting. "You don’t. But, by the time I get through with you, you will. Only this ain’t the _time_, see? Come now, step lively, like they say in New York. Put this party away, out o’ sight. No matter how crampin’ the place. An’ be quick about it!" The young man gazed about his booth helplessly, shook his head, then got upon his feet. He drew a key from his pocket, as if acting under hypnotic suggestion. "I’m taking your word for it," he grumbled. "If it gets me into trouble——" "_I’ll_ get you out," answered Martha confidently. Without further ado he led them through the waiting-room, unlocked the baggage-room door and, in the semi-darkness, he and Martha walled their captive in behind a barricade of freight and baggage. "Try to be contented till train-time," Mrs. Slawson admonished Ellen. "Don’t you be scared. We won’t forget you, nor we won’t let your stepfather get you, ’less it’s over this young-man-here’s dead body an’——" "Oh, I say!" objected the telegraph-operator plaintively. Martha shook her head at him. "I only wanted to cheer her up," she whispered, as they passed out into the waiting-room, he locking the door behind them. Sam came forward to meet her. "I guess we had our scare for nothing," he observed. "If that’d been Buller behind us, he’d have got here before now." "Not if he’d had tire-troubles. But prob’ly you’re right," said Martha. Sam considered. "Then what’s the use of keeping the poor girl hid?"