“I think I’d better talk to the trainmen, Dan,” I replied seriously. “I’d like to get away as soon as possible. I am afraid the doctor may make trouble for us.” We walked up the track to where a freight engine was puffing back and forth placing cars in a long train, like a fussy old woman stringing beads. A lean-jawed man in blue denim with a conductor’s cap pulled over his eyes turned at our approach. “Good evening, Conductor,” I began, looking him full in the face. “We have no money and we must get out of this town immediately. I should like to put our bicycle, which is down at the end of the yard, in some empty car that you are going to take out to-night, and get a lift for fifteen or twenty miles.” His keen grey eyes bored into mine. “What’s the trouble that you got to get out of town? Been holding up somebody?” he queried gruffly. “My husband and I rode into town this morning and started to hunt work as usual. We stopped at a doctor’s house over on the north side, Doctor Stanchley Loane’s, and he gave us work for the day. His wife was out, my husband was cleaning the auto in the garage, and while I was at work in his private office, he attacked me. I gave him the slip and got away. Now, if we ride the wheel out of town, I’m afraid he’ll make trouble for us. He expects us to go that way.” “The old son-of-a——” the conductor stopped abruptly. “He’s a bad egg all right. We all know that, but I scarcely thought he’d dare go so far. Of course, your being a sort of hobo——” He stopped again. “Reckon he didn’t take a very close look at those shoulders of yours, or he wouldn’t have tried to get fresh. Well, we’ll see what can be done. Where did you say your wheel is?” Dan described its location. “All right. You go there and be ready. We’ll shunt an empty down that way and when the coast seems clear, you pile aboard and lie low. It’s a risky business, but it’s all in a lifetime.” He turned away and began signalling the engineer. Dan and I scuttled down the track. When we had the wheel in hand, ready for loading, he turned to me. “Did that old devil actually try to lay hands on you? Why didn’t you tell me when you came out to the garage? I’d like to go back and crack his nut for him.” “I’m glad enough to get out of the nasty scrape without any skull-cracking. You must remember that we are looked upon as hoboes, and hoboes have no rights. I do wish the men would hurry with that car.” As though in answer to my thought, a box car rolled gently down the track and came to a stop not ten feet from where we waited. “Good shot,” said Dan as we slid back the side door, which was ajar. A long look around and I scrambled in, while Dan hoisted up the wheel and quickly followed. The bottom of the car was packed solid with radiators, which were piled almost to the top in the rear end, each tier held in place by heavy braces. We stacked the tandem in a convenient corner and crouched in silence on the crates.