The conductor stood hesitating. “This radiator car is billed straight through to Frisco,” he informed us. “I picked her out for that reason. There ain’t many cars left open like she is. Don’t know how it comes she ain’t sealed shut. But if you have real good luck, you might be able to skate right through to Frisco in a week or ten days. It’ll be a pretty rough trip, but if you want to get to Cal in a hurry, it’ll beat pumping a bike.” “Oh, Dan, we must try it. I’d ride the bumpers or the cowcatcher to get home in a week,” I cried, forgetting my pain in such a joyful prospect. “It seems a trifle risky to trust those radiators again, but you’re the doctor, so here goes.” As Dan settled down beside me the conductor slipped a bill into his hand and ducked away. The engineer signalled that he was ready to be off. When the train took the next siding to permit repairs on the engine, Dan secured a lantern and we straightened our tangled possessions and made ourselves as comfortable as possible for the night. I was glad when Dan slept, for I feared he would notice my restless seeking for some posture in which I could forget my aches and pains in sleep. But my hopes were in vain, for mind and body conspired to hold my nerves at a tension. The events of the day, which seemed of a month’s duration, formed a kaleidoscopic jumble in my brain. Morning dawned at last and I lay prone on the radiator crates, while Dan busied himself with the tandem, which had also suffered in the mêlée of the evening before. It was nearly dark when we pulled into the railroad yard at Des Moines. Our car was switched off the main track, and Dan immediately got out to purchase provisions for the western trip. Trembling at every noise, I awaited his return, and it was not long till he was back with an armful of bundles and a kettle of water. Another train was being made up and soon our car was shunted into place. The engineer had given the signal for the crew to assemble and my breath had begun to come easier, when the door was jerked open and a man thrust in his head. “Hey, yous! Come out of that,” he snarled. “Here, Tim, I’ve found a couple of boes. Come on out now,” as we made no move. “If you don’t, you’ll wish you had in about two seconds.” Slowly Dan clambered out. I followed. “What to hell have we here? Blamed if it ain’t a woman!” the detective cried. Tim, meanwhile, advanced with a lantern, and having given us a close inspection, leaped into the car. “What in blazes is this?” he exclaimed, catching sight of the wheel. Dan explained shortly. “Well, yank her out of here. This car moves in about two minutes.” Dan sprang inside and lowered the wheel to me. Tim threw our bundles to the ground. “Toot, toot,” whistled the engine. The train pulled out.