en face. He paid no
attention to the girls, but walked on, with head bent down.

"We must soon stop for lunch," proposed Mollie. "I have not left it
behind this time," and she held out the small suitcase that contained the
provisions put up that morning. "I'm just dying for a cup of chocolate!"

"We will eat soon," said Betty. "There's a nice place, just beyond that
trestle," and she pointed to a railroad bridge that crossed a small but
deep stream, the highway passing over it by another and lower structure.

As the girls hurried on, the man passed them, off to the left and high on
the railroad embankment. He gave them not a glance, but hastened on with
head bent low.

When he reached the middle of the high railroad bridge, or trestle over
the stream, he paused, stooped down and seemed to be tying his shoelace.
The girls watched him idly.

Suddenly the roar of an approaching train was heard. The man looked up,
seemed startled, and then began to run toward the end of the bridge.

It was a long structure and a high one, and, ere he had taken a dozen
steps over the ties, the train swept into sight around a curve. The road
was a single-track one, and on the narrow trestle there was no room for a
person to avoid the cars.

"He'll be killed!" cried Mollie.

Fascinated, the girls looked. On came the thundering train. The whistle
blew shrilly. The young man increased his pace, but it was easy to see
that he could not get off the bridge in time.

Realizing this, he paused. Coming to the edge of the ties on the bridge,
he poised himself for a moment, and with a glance at the approaching
locomotive, which was now whistling continuously, the man leaped into the
stream below him.

"Oh!" screamed Grace, and then she and the others looked on, almost
horrified, as the body shot downward.

[Illustration: THE MAN LEAPED INTO THE STREAM.]

CHAPTER XXIII

THE MAN'S STORY

There was a great splash, and the man disappeared under the water. It all
occurred suddenly, and the man must have made up his mind quickly that he
had not a chance to stay on the trestle when the train passed over it.

"He'll be killed!" cried Mollie. "Oh, Betty, what can we do?"

"Nothing, if he really is killed," answered the practical Little Captain.
"But he jumped like a man who knew how to do it, and how to dive. The
water is deep there."

"Come on!" cried Amy, for once taking the initiative, and she darted
toward the bank of the stream.