“What are you doing here?” he demanded sternly. “Waiting for my husband,” I said. Lifting the flash, he examined me from head to foot. Reaching forward, he tapped the box of lunch under my arm with his billy. “What have you got in that box?” he inquired. “Grub,” I replied. “So ho! A box of grub and a roll of blankets. You look like a woman hobo.” I admitted the charge and declared my intention of taking the west-bound freight. “And I suppose you are a detective hired to prevent that very thing,” I concluded. “You’ve struck it,” he answered. “That’s....” He leaned forward and stiffened like a pointer dog in the presence of a flock of quail. With wonderful dexterity he slipped the flash in his pocket and drew a revolver, then moved forward with the sinuous grace of a panther and as silently as a shadow. I heard the footsteps of several men approaching across the yard. “Halt!” barked the detective. “Throw up your hands. Keep ’em high now, and face the east. Now, beat it.” I heard the sound of running feet, punctuated by dull thuds as the detective belaboured the heads and shoulders of the fleeing men with his billy. “Fo Gawd’s sake, don’t, Boss. Oh, Gawd. You’re killin’ me.” It was the pleading voice of a negro, who seemed to be bearing the brunt of the clubbing. In a few minutes the detective came back, panting. My blood was boiling. “You great big brute, you,” I began. “Why don’t you jump somebody who has a decent chance, if you must act like a devil?” “You’ve got your nerve, young lady, talking to me like that. Don’t you know I can run you and your old man in if I want to?” “Oh, I suppose you could. But what makes you want to be so cruel? You don’t look like a brute.” “Well, maybe I am too rough, though that is what I’m hired to be. Besides, some yeggs broke into a building in a little town up the line about a year ago, and when me and my mate tried to run them in, they shot my pal dead and winged me in the shoulder. Since then I club all hoboes on general principles.” Just then I recognised Dan’s step as he came up the yard. The detective made a forward movement, but I seized him by the arm. “That’s my husband coming, and you better let him alone. If you start clubbing him, I’ll fix you, pistol or no pistol.” “Let go. I’ll not hurt him.” He bounded forward, and intercepting Dan, questioned him closely. Then ordering him to remain where he was, he returned and questioned me. Then he summoned Dan. “Well, people,” he said, as Dan came up. “I guess I’ll take a chance on you. If the conductor don’t get wise and make a kick, I’ll not see you when you get aboard that cattle car yonder. So long.”