The next instant a man vaulted onto the end of the car and sat on the edge, with feet dangling a scant twelve inches above my head. Dan was sound asleep, and I was in deadly fear lest he waken suddenly and make some move or sound. The intruder carried a lantern, which shone palely in the growing light. “Here, Joe, gimme that lantern a second. I want to take a look in that refrigerator car.” The seated detective passed the light to his mate, then leisurely placed his foot within an inch of my right ear, and stepping over our heads, made his way across the car. His pal peered into the open ventilator in the ice chest of the car ahead, and a moment later both men jumped to the ground to greet the new crew. “All right, boys. No ’boes this morning. She’s all ready to take out.” The engineer sounded the welcome signal and we entered a new division. It was broad daylight before I saw a trainman, and then a brakie appeared, coming over the tops from the rear. With a cautious motion I pulled the blanket over Dan, who still slept, and drew a fold across my own face. The brakeman advanced with a cheerful whistle, and his heel rang sharply on the iron projection at Dan’s shoulder, who threw out both arms and raised up with a cry. As Dan sat up, the brakie sat down with exceeding swiftness. The two men glared at one another and it would be difficult to say which had the blanker expression—Dan, who had been so rudely startled out of his sound sleep, or the brakeman, who had witnessed the apparition of a man rising out of apparently solid metal. The sight of their gaping mouths and bulging eyes proved too much for my risibles and stretching out my cramped arms, I burst into peals of laughter. My unexpected appearance seemed the one thing needed to complete the utter mental disorganisation of the unfortunate trainman. He was too far gone to speak, but gulped and gasped like a dying fish. Dan and I gradually eased our stiffened bodies out of our iron cradle, and by degrees the brakeman’s wits returned. I at once got to work and soon had his promise to leave us unmolested. But we were not to remain so for long. The conductor himself came over the top—a new thing in our experience—and kindly, but firmly, told us to get off at the next stop. Thus we found ourselves in the edge of a fair-sized railroad yard, the name of which we made no attempt to learn, but contented ourselves with seeking a quiet spot where we could cook a meal and rest. The back of my head, neck and shoulders was bruised black from the hours of pommelling, and I was glad to snatch a few hours of restless sleep. Dan prepared and packed a box of food, filled the canteen and made ready for the night’s adventures. Just at dark we entered the railroad yard as a freight rolled in from the east. Dan told me to wait while he reconnoitred. Hardly had he gone when a man appeared at my side as though he had risen out of the ground. He held a pocket flash in one hand and a club in the other.