“O’ course he’d be goin’ back there instead o’ goin’ home,” Jack muttered to himself. “Now, what’d I better do? Hello, what’s that?” He had caught the sound of a stealthy step overhead, and an instant later, a slim form leaped to the ground and sprang after Allan as swift and noiseless as a panther. There was a menace in that crouched figure which brought Jack out from under the platform with a jerk. Staring with startled eyes, he fancied he caught a gleam as of a knife-blade in the air and a warning cry leaped involuntarily to his lips. “Hey, Allan. Look out!” he shouted. And Allan, starting sharp around at the cry, found himself face to face with Hummel. The latter, stopping short in his swift career by a mighty effort, stood for an instant, his face convulsed, one hand behind him. “Well, what is it?” Allan asked, sharply, surveying him with astonishment. “I—I wanted t’ see you,” answered Hummel, thickly. “I—I—” “Well, go on,” said Allan, impatiently, as the latter stopped. “I was hurryin’,” Hummel gasped. “I’m out o’ breath. I wants me job back.” “You can’t have it. Now get out of these yards. If I catch you here again, I’ll have you run in.” Hummel’s face flushed, and he made a convulsive movement forward, but stopped, as he heard rapid steps drawing near. “Why, was it you who shouted, Jack?” asked Allan, in surprise, as the latter came running up. “What was the matter?” “I seen this feller sneakin’ acrost the yards after you,” Jack explained, apologetically, “an’ I thought he meant trouble. I didn’t know he was a friend o’ yours.” “I jest wanted t’ speak t’ him,” said Hummel, gruffly, and started to turn away. But Jack caught him by the arm. “Wait a minute,” he said. “Let’s look into this. Is he a friend o’ yours?” “No,” Allan answered. “Quite the contrary. He’s a fellow I fired a while ago.” “Oh,” said Jack, and looked at Hummel more closely. “What’re ye holdin’ one hand behind your back for?” he demanded. “Let’s see it!” He grabbed at the hidden hand, but at the same instant Hummel, supple as an eel, slipped from his grasp, ducked, and sped down the yards like a shadow. Jack and Allan stood for an instant staring after him. Then the former, with a sudden exclamation, raised his hand and looked at it. It was covered with blood. “I thought so!” he cried. “He had a knife! I saw it when he was runnin’ after you.” “Are you hurt?” and Allan, snatching out his handkerchief, wiped away the blood. “Only a scratch. The knife got me when I grabbed at him. It’s nothin’. You go ahead, an’ I’ll see if I can find him.” Allan, examining the wound, saw that it was not a deep one. “All right,” he said, wrapping his handkerchief about it. “I’ll wait for you at the office.” Jack nodded and hastened away down the yards in the direction Hummel had taken. But search as he might, he found no trace of that worthy, who had dived in among a lot of box cars stored on the sidings, and made good his escape.