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Updated: June 24, 2025
On the other, she recognized a certain distinction in Alexina's severe style, and felt proud of her notice. This afternoon Alex's influence had been in the ascendant.
"I might manage it. There is a rail bicycle in the lamp-house. If the rails are hanging together perhaps I could shoot over with that. Why?" "46 is due in twenty minutes, and apparently we have no way of stopping her except through you." "Why, certainly I'll risk it," buzzed the sounder. "I suppose the oil is to make a quick blaze, to flag her?" Jack added, catching Alex's idea. "That's it.
Gertrude had been sitting listlessly waiting for the evening message from Mr. Jamieson, but when the singular pair came in, as they did, without ceremony, she jumped up and stood staring. Winters, the detective who watched the house at night, followed them, and kept his eyes sharply on Alex's prisoner. For that was the situation as it developed.
He sweetened his cup of chicory with a lump of maple sugar and began to sip it before he sat down, standing with one foot on the bench and looking down across the parade ground, past the Aitch-Cue House, toward the river and the wall. "If you're coming around to Alex's way of thinking and mine it won't hurt you to admit it, son," his father said.
For some minutes Alex's part in the animated conversation of the two chums had waned. Presently, plucking Jack's sleeve, he quietly directed his companion's attention to the double seat across the aisle of the car. "Jack, watch that soldier's fingers," he said in a low voice. "What's the matter with him?"
Directly below, in a group of shrubby trees on the border of the stony creek which alone remained of the river, was a village of white tents. From Alex's feet a rough trail slanted downward toward it. Giving his pony free rein, he descended. "Where is Mr. Norton?" he asked of a water-boy at the foot of the path. "That's him at the table in front of the middle tent," the boy directed.
But better even than this, in Alex's estimation, a few mornings after the chief despatcher called him to the wire and announced his appointment as night operator at Foothills, a small town on the western division. Not long after Alex left Bixton to take up his duties at Foothills, Jack, at Hammerton, also received an advancement.
"Oh, you couldn't, eh, Goody-goody?" exclaimed the smaller man, with a snarl, catching up the revolver and pointing it at Alex's head. "Now could you do it?" The taller man caught his arm. "Don't be a fool, Jake. After all, we couldn't be sure he wasn't fooling us even if he took the money. "Look here, I have a scheme."
"You are a trifle young for this rough work, though, are you not?" he ventured, noting Alex's youthful face. "You are not the operator who caught that K. & Z. man Sunday?" "I helped catch him," Alex corrected. "You'll do, then," said Norton. "And I'll give you a place here in my own tent," he added, turning and entering a small marquee, followed by Alex.
The next moment there was a rush of feet without, and all in a twinkle Bennet and the cowman were out of their chairs, at the door, and staggering back before three threatening revolvers. Staring open-mouthed, they brought up beside the overturned table. Alex's words were the first. "These were the chickens I was calling, Mr. Bennet," he remarked gleefully.
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