"I see you've got the Placida with you?" began Bob indifferently.
"Yep," answered Tom, "and loaded to the axles. All except
passengers. She's running light on them. Two boys and a coon."
"I just had a talk with them," remarked Bob, carelessly offering the
brakeman a cigar. "Pretty dusty, eh?" After a moment's casual talk
Bob returned to the subject.
"I guess those kids must be next--running a car with locked doors."
"Locked doors!" snorted Tom, putting his cigar away for a
surreptitious smoke. "Not on your life. Not against me. You bet
she was open whenever I rang."
"But it might just as well have been locked," said Bob. "The place
is so jammed full of stuff. I couldn't make out what it was, but
there was a wad of it."
The unsuspecting brakeman then gave Bob what he was hoping to get.
"Well, I stopped and saw it," he confessed. "I roused up the coon
after midnight to have a look at the ropes and when I came back I
took my time. They got a case of powder or dynamite in there marked
'Explosive.' I didn't bother that but the rest was plain.
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