ife
in prison.

For a moment Jack had the impulse to seek safety in flight. If they
caught him spying on them they were likely to have little mercy for
him, and well he knew it. But the impulse lasted scarcely a second.

"I guess if I'm ever to make good as a Scout, this is one of my
chances," he said to himself, grimly. "I'm going to stay right by this
window and try to hear what they say to one another. They may give
away their plans and give me some sort of a chance to foil them."

Jack was frightened, and he was brave enough to admit that to himself.
Even the river pirates that he and Pete Stubbs had helped to thwart
when they tried to steal the fittings from Mr. Simms' yacht were mild
mannered criminals compared to these. Each of them wore a black mask
that hid his eyes and the upper part of his face, but Jack, trying
desperately to discover something that would enable him to identify
them should he ever have the chance, picked out lines about the lower
parts of their faces that would, he thought, make it impossible for him
to mistake them should he ever have the chance to see them again. One
had a prominent, undershot jaw. Another bore a furrow across his chin,
the mark of a bullet, as Jack guessed, that was white against the
stubble of his beard. And another had lost part of his right ear,
which was not hidden by his mask.

"I'm really more certain of knowing them again now than if they hadn't
worn those masks," said Jack, to himself. "The masks made me look more
attentively at the part of each one's face that I could see."

"Hey, Tom," said one of the men, gruffly, looking at his watch, "got
them tied? I thought there was another one of the young rips."

"If there was, he ain't a comin' back here, or he'd have been here long
ago," said Tom, scowling fiercely at his two captives. "What's the
time, Bo?"

"Time enough. She ain't due for ten or twelve minutes yet, even if
she's on time. Wish't I could tell what that key was saying."

"Don't make no difference. It'll be saying a lot more when we get
through tonight," said the other.

All the time the monotonous calling of the key had kept up--"H-K--H-K."
Now suddenly there was a change. "B-D--B-D--" clicked the instrument,
and Jack knew that the sender had given up Haskell Crossing and was
trying now to raise Beaver Dam, the next station up toward the city.

Beaver Dam answered at once, and Jack listened intently to the wire
conversation th