faced and excited, and were running toward the way car. Harrington had found a linen duster somewhere, and a hat. The linen duster was too big for him, and he had rolled back the sleeves. The hat was a soft felt, and he had pulled it down over his skullcap.
"Get on, you fellows!" Harrington yelled, looking toward Ruthven, Long, and Summerfield. "We can't let any grass grow under us—we've got to hustle."
Durfee had run forward for a word with the engineer. Instructions took no more than a minute, and the extra west got under way, the superintendent swinging nimbly up on the steps as the way car came along. The others were all inside the car, and three of them were palpitating with excitement and curiosity. Ruthven had never met Durfee, and in that crisis no one thought of giving him an introduction. In the circumstances it was hardly necessary.
"What's the row, Durfee?" demanded Long. "I ought to know why you're taking me away from the store like this."
"We'll not keep you from your business very long," answered the superintendent. "Ten minutes at Bluffton will be enough, and then we'll all come back. Maybe we'll be gone an hour, all told."
"Providing," qualified Harrington wildly, "nothing happens!"
Durfee nodded grimly. "That's right, Harrington," he agreed; "and we'll hope for the best."
"What the devil can happen?" inquired Long, in a puzzled voice, as he peered through a window. "About the only thing I'm afeared of is that this bobtailed train will turn a somersault into the right of way. What's the use of goin' so fast?"
The engineer was certainly "hitting it up." The landscape was reeling past the windows, and the way car lurched and jumped like an untamed broncho.
"We're not telling you fellows everything," said the superintendent, "because Harrington and I do not think it wise; but we need you with us, and the business is important. If it wasn't, do you think I'd lay out the schedule of Seventeen like I'm doing? By thunder, I've never had anything throw such a scare into me!"
Durfee had his sea legs on, and could walk up and down the car with remarkable stability. This he proceeded to do, from time to time consulting his watch. The wheel flanges screeched on the curves, the way car shivered and rattled and seemed every moment on the point of going to pieces, while black soft-coal smoke floated back from the switch bumper and buried the car ab intervals.
Long left the bench at the side of the caboose and made his way to a chair that was riveted to the floor. There he sat, in front of a small desk, hanging onto the chair arms for dear life and watching pictures of prize fighters and actresses dance around the little bulkhead to which the desk was secured. He was consumed with curiosity regarding the object of that wild ride, and yet he was so afraid the caboose would leave the rails that he had no heart for asking questions.
And, anyhow, Durfee and Harrington were saying nothing about their reasons for overhauling Seventeen. As the superintendent had said, they were keeping that to themselves. There was a tenseness in the air, however, that hinted of great and awful possibilities. Durfee continued to walk back and forth, and Harrington evinced his disordered state of mind by pulling at his side whiskers.
Ruthven and Summerfield braced themselves side by side on a bench. The former reflected, in a milder degree, the vague fears of trouble playing in the express agent's face.
"The super and the traveling agent have got us all guessing," Ruthven said
