he apparent tramp.

More men appeared. "The tramp who burned the car!" rose the cry. "Lynch
him! Lynch him!"

Elder dove back the way he had come. The trackmen raced for the nearest
openings, and dove after.

As Elder dashed for the next train several of his pursuers sprang into
view but a car-length away. "Head him off! Don't let him get away!" they
shouted.

Madly Elder rushed on, darted beneath the last string of flats, and on
out into the open.

A figure was approaching on horseback. He recognized Superintendent
Finnan. Uttering a cry of hope, he headed for him. At sight of the
desperately running figure, with its grimy face and flapping rags, the
superintendent pulled up in sheer amazement. When the stream of men broke
through the train and poured after, yelping like a pack of hounds, he
urged his horse forward.

"Catch him! Stop him!" shouted the pursuers.

"It's me! Elder!" screamed the clerk. "Elder! Elder!"

A big Irishman, a pick-handle in his hand, was gaining on the supposed
tramp at every bound, roaring, "I'll fix ye! I'll fix ye, ye vermin!"

With a last desperate sprint the flying clerk reached the horse and threw
himself at the superintendent's stirrups. "It's Elder, Mr. Finnan!" he
gasped. "Elder! Elder!"

The superintendent gazed down into the blackened face an instant, then
suddenly doubled up over his horse's head, rocking and shaking in a
convulsion of laughter. The action saved the clerk from the Irishman. The
descending pick-handle halted in mid-air, the wielder gazed open-mouthed
at the convulsed official, then suddenly grasping the clerk's head,
twisted it about, and staggered back, roaring and shouting at the top of
his lungs. As fast as the others arrived the riot of merriment increased;
and when presently the superintendent moved on toward the train, the
crestfallen clerk still at his stirrup, they were the center of a
hilariously howling mob.

The final blow came when Elder entered the telegraph-car. Carefully laid
out in his bunk were the garments he had surrendered to the "tramp."

The incident had its final good result, however. The mangling of Elder's
vanity disclosed an unsuspected streak of common-sense and manliness, and
a day or so after he frankly thanked Ryan, the perpetrator of the joke,
for "having put him right." And finally he became one of the most popular
men on the train.

XIX

THE ENEMY'S HAND AGAIN, AND A CAPTURE

"Good morning, Ward. Any word o