The fat man suddenly lost his interest in the card-game and turned an eager ear to the brakeman, while the dyspeptic stopped punching holes in his time-card and listened. The card-players glanced up and then returned to their game, but they, too, were listening. The brakeman was surprised: "How many did we get! Gosh! we didn’t get none! They was six to our five." "How many cards did you draw, you Piute?" asked Lanky. "None of yore business; I ain’t dealing, an’ I would n’t tell you if I was," retorted Billy. "Well, I can ask, can’t I?" "Yes—you can, an’ did." "You didn’t get none?" cried Hopalong, doubting his ears. "I should say not!" "An’ they owned th’ whole train?" "They did." Red laughed. "Th’ cleaning-up must have been sumptuous an’ elevating." "Every time I holds threes he allus has better," growled Lanky to Simms. "On th’ level, we couldn’t do a thing," the brakeman ran on. "There ’s a water tank a little farther on, and they must ’a’ climbed aboard there when we stopped to connect. When we got into the gulch the train slowed down and stopped and I started to get up to go out and see what was the matter; but I saw that when I looked down a gun-barrel. The man at the throttle end of it told me to put up my hands, but they were up as high then as I could get ’em without climbin’ on the top of the seat. "Can’t you listen and play at th’ same time?" Lanky asked Billy. "I wasn’t countin’ on takin’ the gun away from him," the brakeman continued, "for I was too busy watchin’ for the slug to come out of the hole. Pretty soon somebody on the outside whistled and then another feller come in the car; he was the one that did the cleanin’ up. All this time there had been a lot of shootin’ outside, but now it got worse. Then I heard another whistle and the engine puffed up the track, and about five minutes later there was a big explosion, and then our two robbers backed out of the car among the rocks shootin’ back regardless. They busted a lot of windows." "An’ you did n’t git none," grumbled Hopalong, regretfully. "When we got to the express-car, what had been pulled around the turn," continued the brakeman, not heeding the interruption, "we found a wreck. And we found the engineer and fireman standin’ over the express-messenger, too scared to know he would n’t come back no more. The car had been blowed up with dynamite, and his fighting soul went with it. He never knowed he was licked." "An’ nobody tried to help him!" Hopalong exclaimed, wrathfully now. "Nobody wanted to die with him," replied the brakeman. "Well," cried the fat man, suddenly reaching for his valise, "I ’d like to see anybody try to hold me up!" Saying which he brought forth a small revolver. "You ’d be praying out of your bald spot about that time," muttered the brakeman. Hopalong and Red turned, perceived the weapon, and then exchanged winks. "That’s a fine shootin’-iron, stranger," gravely remarked Hopalong.