he first to
recover, and inquired with apparent nonchalance: "What are you gentlemen
after?" In the meantime he had noticed that the two men at the door wore
soldiers' caps with broad peaks, and he construed this as a new holdup
trick.

The men outside were conversing in an unintelligible lingo, and their
leader, who was armed only with a Browning pistol, looked into the hut
and asked: "Which of you gentlemen is the station-master?" Tom lowered
his shaving-cup and took a step forward, whereupon he was at once halted
by the sharp command: "Hands up!"

But this one step toward the door had enabled Tom to see that there were
at least a dozen of these brown fellows standing behind the wall of his
shanty. At the same time he saw his dog slinking about outside with his
tail between his legs and choking over something. He called the dog, and
the poor creature crept along the ground toward him, evidently making
vain attempts to bark.

"The damned gang," growled Tom to himself; "they have evidently given
the poor beast something to eat which prevents his barking."

The man with the Browning pistol now turned to Tom and said: "Has the
express passed yet?"

"No."

"No? I thought it was due at 9.30." The highwayman looked at his watch.
"Past ten already," he said to himself. "And when is the local train
from Umatilla expected?"

"It ought to be here at 10.30."

"The express goes through without stopping, doesn't it?" began the other
again. "Good! Now you go out as if nothing had happened and let the
express pass! The other two will remain here in the meantime and my men
will see that they don't stir. One move and you can arrange your funeral
for to-morrow."

The two bristly-headed chaps at the window remained motionless, and
followed the proceedings with a broad grin. The two men from Swallowtown
were compelled to stand with uplifted hands against the wall opposite
the window, so that the gun-barrels on the window-sill were pointing
straight at them. Winston had had sufficient time to study the two
highwaymen at the window and it gradually dawned upon him what sort of
robbers they were; in a low tone of voice he said to Tom: "They're
Japs."

The man with the Browning overheard the remark; he turned around quickly
and repeated in a determined voice: "If you move you'll die on the
spot."

Then he allowed Tom to leave the station, and showed him how two of his
men opened the shutters of the windows that looked out on t