"Tell us of it!" shouted several of the boys at once; and sitting in a cozy corner of the deck, Robert Menden told his story as follows:
"Rexwell and I were two days out from Orelle in the heart of England. We were following the smooth, winding road which leads from Paxton to Riley's, and which crosses the K. T. & B. railway at half a dozen or more points.
"Rexwell had proposed the bicycle tour, as being different from the ordinary run of outings, and as I was on the lookout for excitement of any sort, I eagerly agreed to join him in a trip to last the best part of a week, never dreaming of all that was to follow in the shape of a close shave from death.
"We both rode our favorite wheels, which, fortunately, were of the same make, thus doing away with the possibility of any dispute regarding the superiority of either. To our handle bars we had strapped a decidedly limited amount of baggage; our pocketbooks were sufficiently filled to meet all wants in that direction, and as both of us were in the best of health and free from worldly care, we went speeding along the highway in the best of spirits.
"'Sixteen miles to Midland Cut,' sang out Rexwell, as he slowed up at a guideboard placed where a wagon trail crossed the road. 'We ought to be able to make that by supper time with ease.'
"'It looks to me as if there was a hill back of yonder woods,' I replied, as I took a long look ahead.
"'It can't be much of a climb, or we would see it over the treetops, Bert. We'll soon know,' he went on, as he forged ahead by an extra spurt, giving me some quick work on the pedals to catch up to him.
"It was a little after four in the afternoon, or evening, as the residents of some localities termed it. The fore part of the day had been somewhat oppressive, the usual southwest breeze having died down by ten o'clock, leaving the glaring sun its full sway. Now I noticed a dense mass of clouds creeping and rolling up from over to our right, and drew Rexwell's attention to it.
"'By Jove! that looks as if we were going to have a storm, Robert,' said he. 'Those clouds are rolling up fast, too. We must strike shelter before we get wet to the skin.'
"We crossed the polished tracks of the railroad and descended into the woods. The road was not sufficiently used to clear it of its overhanging branches, which more than once struck us in the face as we bowled along. Before the heavy growth was passed, the sun was obscured, and we heard the distant roll of thunder.
"We pressed on faster than ever, only to find ourselves at the foot of an extra steep hill, at the entrance to another dense patch of timber. Here the way was rather soft, and we were glad enough, after a few minutes more of riding, to leap down and trundle our wheels beside us.
"Pat, pat, pat, patter, patter! It was the rain, striking the leaves overhead, and soon some came down upon our heads. Up at the top of the hill was an opening, and there the drops seemed to be coming down in a deluge. The thunder now increased, accompanied by occasional flashes of lightning.
"'We're in for it, old man,' said Rexwell, dismally. 'What had we best do? seek shelter among the trees?'
"'If you're not afraid of being struck by lightning,' I replied; and then the pair of us made a break to where a clump of trees stood, their branches tightly interlaced. This spot reached, we crouched down in a hollow, and I brought out my rubber blanket and made of it an apology for a tent, by throwing it over our bicycles.
"Hardly had we become settled than we heard the sounds of horses' hoofs on the road. Looking forth we beheld four horsemen dash into view. All were drenched with rain and one was muttering savagely at his ill-luck.
"'Come on in here, boys; we can stay under the trees until the worst is over,' we heard the leader of the quartet remark; and he turned in not fifty feet from where we crouched. 'Ricketts, be sure and keep that dynamite dry,' he added, to the man who had been doing all the grumbling.
"'Oh, that's all right – I wish I was as dry,' responded Ricketts. 'Hang such a night as this is going to be!'
"'You're crazy, man, to grumble,' put in a third of the party. 'Why, we couldn't have it better. The railroad people will never be able to follow us.'
"'That's all you know about it, Larson. Mud leaves an ugly trail,' growled Ricketts. 'Ain't that so, Shorer?'
"'We can follow the creek from Weemer's, and that will throw 'em off the scent,' responded the leader. 'All we'll have to do is to stop the train this side of Blowfen's instead of the other. By the way, keep your ears open for Jamison and the others. We don't want them to go below Blowfen's by mistake.'
"'I'm watching, all right,' said Larson. 'Ain't he got my gun?'
"'Yes, and Lewis promised to bring me some .42 cartridges, too,' said Ricketts. 'Refley sold me a lot of .38's by mistake. When will the express get to Blowfen's?'
"'Eight-fifteen, or thereabouts. We must be on the watch at eight,' came from the leader of the quartet. 'And I want every one of you to do the right thing. If you don't, that twenty thousand will slip through our fingers, and we may get our necks stretched instead.'
"A clap of thunder broke off the conversation at this point, and when the reverberations rolled away, it was not resumed. The horsemen had gathered under some trees to the right of us, and now occupied their time in watching for their comrades and in examining the arms and other traps which they carried.
"I had listened to their talk in rising horror, and the clutch Rexwell took upon my arm told me plainly that he was not less affected. As the thunder died away, he whispered hoarsely into my ear: 'Train wreckers!'
"I looked at him and nodded. 'They are going to wreck the express to-night, too,' I added in a whisper.
"'We must stop them.'
"Yes, that was plainly our duty. But how was the deed to be accomplished? We were only two to four, or more, and our small pocket arms would prove of small value should we expose ourselves and provoke a 'mix-up.'
"'That Shorer is the notorious train wrecker from Scotland,' said Rexwell. 'There is a reward up for his capture, I think.'
"'Let's effect his capture, and collar the reward,' I cried eagerly.
"'Hush, Robert! Collar the reward! If they found us here they wouldn't hesitate to fill us full of holes. That Shorer is as cold-blooded as they make them.'
"'If we could get away without being seen, we might ride back to Wheatland and inform the authorities.'
"'Providing we could get there before the express goes through.'
"'To do that, we'll have to get out at once.'
"A noise on the road made us break off. The rest of the train wrecker's gang were coming up – six stalwart and bronzed men, each on a powerful horse, and all heavily armed. The ten horsemen made an imposing cavalcade.
"Silently I took down the rubber blanket and rolled it up, strapping it fast in its place. Seeing this, Rexwell felt of his machine and examined the pedals and running gear.
"'Follow me,' I whispered; and lifting my bicycle from the hollow, I darted behind the clump of cottonwoods, and hurried through the woods in a direction parallel to the highway. My chum came close behind me. Inside of ten minutes we were several hundred feet away, and then we turned into the road, mounted to our saddles, and pedalled down the back track as rapidly as our weary legs and the state of the muddy highway would permit. Once we fancied we heard a shout from behind, but we never looked back and nothing followed.
"It was still raining; not as heavily as before, but still sufficiently to reach our skins and render us far from comfortable. The wet bushes and tree branches slashed in our faces, and twice both of us ran into hollows and took nasty headers. But we minded nothing of it all, our one thought being to get to Wheatland ahead of the express. If we failed, we could well imagine what dreadful consequences would follow. If any one was killed in the hold-up, we would consider ourselves little short of being murderers.
"On, on, and still on we sped, the cold perspiration mixing with the rain on our necks and faces, our hearts beating wildly and our breath coming heavily. We were fagged out, yet we must keep on and cover the fourteen miles which still lay between us and the nearest stopping place of the express on the K. T. & B. railway.
"As we reached the top of a hill and sped like rockets down the opposite slope, Rexwell forged ahead in a truly reckless fashion. I had just started to call to him to be careful, when I heard a crash, saw his machine bounce up in the air, and he went sailing into a lot of brush. Luckily I avoided the rock he had struck, and slowing up as quickly as possible, I dismounted and went to his assistance.
"The wind had been knocked out of him, but no bones were broken, and when I reached his side he was struggling to rise, his face and hands scratched in a dozen places, from which the blood streamed freely.
"'How's my bike?' were his first words; and I picked the machine up, to discover the front tire collapsed and the wheel twisted in two places.
"'That settles it; I can't ride any further to-night,' he groaned. 'You'll have to go it alone, Robert.'
"'And leave you?' I answered, quickly.
"'Yes, why not? I can take care of myself. I'll get to Wheatland somehow, by morning. Or you can send a horse and wagon out to meet me. Now, hurry up.'
"It would have been useless to argue with Rexwell, even had I felt inclined to do so, which was not the case; so with a cheering word, I went on alone through the wet and the gathering darkness.
"It was a solitary ride I shall never forget. I stopped once at the foot of a second hill, to light my lamp, and that was the only time I dismounted until I wheeled into the outskirts of Wheatland, panting for breath, my eyes bulging out of their sockets from the tremendous strain to which they had been subjected in the gloom, and my legs aching so greatly that I could scarcely stand upon them.
"'Show me the nearest way to the depot,' I cried to the first person I met; and receiving the directions, sped on through the mud until the end of the long platform was reached. With awful distinctness I heard the clear whistle of an incoming locomotive, and heard the clanging of the bell. It was the express sliding into the station. I fairly tumbled from my bicycle and lumbered forward as the long train slowed up. The engineer was looking back from his seat in the cab, as I came closer and called to him:
"'For heaven's sake, don't go ahead yet!' I gasped. 'You'll be wrecked if you do.'
"'What's that?' he cried, and as I repeated my words he leaped down and caught me by the arm. I was soon surrounded by a crowd, consisting of the engineer, fireman, conductor and half a dozen of the train and station hands. Everyone listened to my story with close attention.