e said. "Jeff's right. We must be flying or something.
There isn't any track that's laid in this direction!"
* * * * *
Ferrell stood at O'Toole's shoulder, looking out into the blackness. He
turned toward them, face stark with terror.
"It--can't--be!" he spoke slowly. "Vancouver is south of us, and
yet...."
"And yet you're going east." The strange voice cut in on them harshly.
Blake wheeled about to face the third Silver Mask he had seen tonight.
The man towered above them, a full seven feet tall. His thick lips,
visible below the mask, were curved in a cruel, delighted smile.
"You've bought one way tickets," he said gruffly. "Tickets that will
take you--nowhere."
Continuing, he turned to Ferrell.
"Walter Ferrell, and his daughter, Dauna Ferrell. Am I right? We are
fortunate in picking our company tonight."
"As owner of this rail line," Ferrell demanded in an even voice. "I want
to know what this is all about. Where are we going?"
Outside the sounds of the wheels had faded. The train wasn't moving. It
seemed to tip at a slight angle, as though leaning on some support.
"My name is Harror," Silver Mask said. "You're not going anywhere for
the time being, and while you are here I'll thank you to call me _Mr._
Harror. Don't try to leave this car. My men are stationed all around the
train with orders to shoot and look afterward. Take a look outside in a
few minutes. You may be surprised."
He turned and stooped to go through the door.
Blake turned to Ferrell and O'Toole.
"I haven't got the drift of all this yet," he admitted. "But we're in
for trouble and plenty of it."
* * * * *
Blake was sitting quietly in the smoker, head reclining on the window
ledge, eyes half closed in a cloud of smoke. The girl and her father
were asleep. O'Toole pretended to be, but Blake wasn't sure of the
Irishman. O'Toole slept with one eye open most of the time.
The deep silence and blackness outside of the window could indicate only
one thing. They were in some sort of a cave. The giant Harror had said
if they looked out, they might be surprised. Yet, hours had passed, and
the place was quiet and black as a tomb.
The door opened and a newspaper flopped on the floor. Blake went forward
and picked it up.
"Thought you'd like to see the big news." It was Harror's heavy voice
rumbling from the doorway. "Flown in from South Station. We've been
waiti
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