Sherry read the sprawling writing: "7–23, Pleasantville," marked across the locked door of the car, and pulled out a document.
"That's the way we do it," he said in a boastful chuckle, picking up a coupling pin and using it to hammer some tacks through the paper. "There you are. In the name of the law this car seized in transit, ipse dixit, e pluribus unum, according to the statoots therein pervided. Quite a lawyer, hey? Boy, it's a life sentence to tamper with that car till the judge says move her."
"It is?*' said Markham, tranquilly.
The big braggart swaggered away. Markham jumped down, watched him out of sight, jumped up and cracked his heels together. Then with his handkerchief he rubbed off the destination mark that had deluded old Dorsett's boisterous and self-important emissary.
Then Markham chuckled as he glanced at the document tacked to the car door. He now moved over to a line of made-up freights on another track. He lingered in their vicinity for over an hour.
When he had seen an engine run on a caboose and then switch to the head of the train, Markham, with a good deal of complacency in his face, started back to join his friends.
As he neared the house where he had left Mrs.
