The train was the east-bound overland, and it seemed hours before the
baggage was taken aboard and the signal given to start. I grew uneasy,
but as my watch assured me that only ten minutes had passed when the
engine gave the first gentle pull at the train, I suspected that I was
losing the gift of patience. The train had not gathered headway before
a man bent beside me, and Abrams' voice spoke softly in my ear.
"There are two of 'em aboard."
"Yes? Where did you find them?" I asked.
"In the stoke hole. I hid behind a bench till every one had gone and
saw 'em crawl out. They bribed a fireman or deck-hand or some one to
keep 'em under cover. They got off the boat at the last minute, and I
sneaked after 'em."
"And they're on the train?"
"Yes, three cars back,--next to the sleepers. Shall we chuck 'em
overboard as soon as we get out of Oakland?"
"Not unless we are attacked," I returned. "Just sit down by the rear
door and give the signal if they come this way. There'll be no trouble
if they are only two."
My precautions were not called to a test, and we reached Livermore at
near eleven o'clock, without further incident than a report from Abrams
that the spies of the enemy got off the train at every station and
watched for our landing. Yet when we stood on the platform of the bare
little station at Livermore and saw the yellow cars crawling away on
their eastward journey, we looked in vain for the men who had tracked
us.
"Fooled, by thunder!" said Fitzhugh with a laugh in which the others
joined.
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