," he announced. "I could ride all night in it, easily--either
sitting, or lying down curled up on my side."

Detective Boyle glanced at his watch. "You may as well stay right there,
Jack," he said. "We will start just as soon as the wagon is ready."

"It's ready now. Judson, go and bring the dray around," the merchant
directed.

As the man left, the detective produced and handed Jack a small pocket
revolver. "Here, take this, Jack," said he. "I hope you'll not have to
use it, but we must take all precautions.

"Now to box you in." So saying the detective fitted the "door" of Jack's
box into place, and Jack on the inside secured it with the hooks and
wooden buttons, and announced "O K." The detective then entered his own
box, and with the merchant's assistance closed the opening. As he tested
it there was a rattle of wheels without, and the big door rumbled open.

A few minutes later the two boxes of "valuable silk" had been slid out
onto the truck, and the first stage of the strange journey had begun.

As planned, it was dusk when the two boxes reached the freight depot. The
station agent himself met them. "Everything O K, Boyle?" he whispered.

"O K. Place us right before the door, with the lettering out," the
detective directed. The agent did as requested, and with a final "Good
luck!" closed and sealed the car door just as the clanging of a bell
announced the approach of an engine. A crash and a jar told the two
unsuspected travelers that their car had been coupled, there was a
whistle, a rumble, a clanking over switch-points--and they were on their
way.

The wheels had been drumming over the rail-joints for perhaps half an
hour, and the disappearance of the light which had filtered through the
car door had announced the fall of darkness, when there came a screeching
of brakes.

"Where do you suppose we are now, Mr. Boyle?" asked Jack from his box.

"It's the grade just north of Axford Road. When we hit the up-grade two
miles beyond we may begin to expect something. It was along there I
figured that the--

"What's that?"

Both listened. "One of the brakemen, isn't it?" suggested Jack.

"What is he doing down on the edge of the car roof?"

The next sound was of something slapping against the car door.

Suddenly the detective gave vent to a cry that was barely suppressed.

"Jack, I've got it! I've got it at last!" he whispered excitedly.

"The freight thieves have bought up one of the brakemen! He l