e his orders. Long experience had taught these men that there was
no necessity to question. Hardy ruffians as they were they knew well
enough that if they had the bodies for this work, he had a head that
was far cleverer even than that of Inspector Fyles himself.

Meanwhile the leader had moved out into the center of the track, and
his eyes were turned westward, toward the bend round the great hill.
They were pensive eyes, almost regretful, and somehow his whole face
had changed from its look of daring to match them. The exhilaration
had gone out of it; the command, even the determination had merged
into something like weakness. His look was soft--even tender.

He stood there while the final details of his enterprise were
completed. He heard the horses come up; he heard the two men clamber
from the caboose and get into the saddle. Then, at last, he turned,
and moved off the track.

Once more the old look of reckless daring was shining in his luminous
eyes. He dashed off into the bush to mount his horse, leaving his
softer mood somewhere behind him--in the West.

There was a clatter and rattle of speeding hoofs, which rapidly died
out. Then again the hills returned to their brooding silence.

The withdrawal of the outlaws was the cue for absurd activity on the
part of the train crew. A whirlwind of heated blasphemy set in, which
might well have scorched the wooden sides of the car. They cursed
everybody and everything, but most of all they cursed the bucolic
agent at White Point.

Then came a cautious reconnoitering beyond the door. This was promptly
followed by a pell-mell dash for the open. In a moment they were
crowding the trackside, staring with stupid eyes and mouths agape at
the miniature snowfall of sugar, and the wreckage of whitewood
barrels.

The conductor was the first to gather his scattered faculties.

"The lousy bums!" he cried fiercely. Then he added, with less ferocity
and more regret, "The--lousy--bums!"

A moment later he turned upon his comrades in the aggrieved fashion of
one who would like to accuse.

"'Taint no use in gawkin' around here," he cried sharply. "We're up
agin it. That's how it is." Then his face went scarlet, as a memory
occurred to him. "Say, White Point's around the corner. And that's
where we'll find that hop-headed agent--if he ain't done up. Anyways,
if he ain't--why, I guess we'll just set him playin' a miser-arey over
his miser'ble wires, that'll set 'em diggin' out