Jiminies, whoever he was, I could see we had him all right. He was as safe up there as he would have been in a dungeon. Because you can see how it was. The big tall trestle-work that held the axle was only as high as the middle of the wheel. Maybe he could have climbed down that, and maybe he couldn't. But from the middle of the wheel up to the top the iron-work wasn't close enough for him to reach from one brace to another. I didn't see how he could even get out of the car to the nearest girder. If he took a chance, he'd break his neck. I suppose, just like Westy said, he had made for the lowest car and it had gone up with him on account of our weight hanging onto some of the other cars. Nine fellows are heavier than one. Gee whiz, it did seem a funny way to catch any one, but that fellow was caught, sure. I wondered how he felt up there. "Do you think he'll take a chance of his life?" one of the fellows asked. "I bet he's half crazy up there," I said. "Maybe he'll shoot," the kid said, kind of scared. "What good would that do him?" Will said. "He'd have to shoot the whole nine of us, six or seven of us anyway, before the wheel would move. And besides, the axle is in his way." "If we all leave here the car will come down," Warde Hollister said. "He could rock it so as to get the wheel started." "It's rocking a little now," Westy said. "I know what I'm going to do," I told them. "I'm going to find out who he is, if I can." "You're not going to go up and ask him!" the kid said. "You might better use the megaphone. Safety first." I said, "I'm going to make believe I'm hunting for something and see if there are any footprints around. If there are and they're from the direction of the river, that will look bad." On the fancy seats were four wooden knobs, two on each seat. I said, "Turn one of those and see if it screws off." Warde was sitting at the end of one of the seats and he kept turning the knob till it came off. I said, "Reach down under your knees--don't anybody look up--reach down under your knees and wrap your handkerchief tight around that knob, so it will look like a baseball or a tennis ball. Then throw it over here." The paint was all gone from those knobs and the wood was all cracked and rotten like all the wood in that old park. I wanted the ball to look white so it would be good and plain to the fellow up there. In a few seconds Warde and I began throwing it to each other. No one would be suspicious seeing us, that's sure. Pretty soon I threw it good and hard, like Christy Matthewson, only different, and it went flying out in the direction of the river and dropped. It went in the long grass. And then is when I had good luck. Because I didn't have to go five feet from that car before I found something. So you see I didn't get off the track of our bee-line enough to really call it getting off the track.