“Than you’re the feller?”

“Sure,” replied Kurt.  It was evident that he had embarked upon an adventure.

“When do we stall this freight?”

“Not while we’re on it, you can gamble.”

Other dark forms sidled out of the gloomy depths of that cavern-like corner and drew close to Kurt.  He realized that he had fallen in with I.W.W. men who apparently had taken him for an expected messenger or leader.  He was importuned for tobacco, drink, and money, and he judged that his begging companions consisted of an American tramp, an Austrian, a negro, and a German.  Fine society to fall into!  That eighty thousand dollars became a tremendous burden.

“How many men on this freight?” queried Kurt, thinking he could ask questions better than answer them.  And he was told there were about twenty-five, all of whom expected money.  At this information Kurt rather closely pressed his hand upon the revolver in his side coat pocket.  By asking questions and making judicious replies he passed what he felt was the dark mark in that mixed company of I.W.W. men; and at length, one by one, they melted away to their warmer corners, leaving Kurt by the door.  He did not mind the cold.  He wanted to be where, at the first indication of a stop, he could jump off the train.

With his hand on his gun and hugging the bulging coat pockets close to him, Kurt settled himself for what he believed would be interminable hours.  He strained eyes and ears for a possible attack from the riffraff I.W.W. men hidden there in the car.  And that was why, perhaps, that it seemed only a short while until the train bumped and slowed, preparatory to stopping.  The instant it was safe Kurt jumped out and stole away in the gloom.  A fence obstructed further passage.  He peered around to make out that he was in a road.  Thereupon he hurried along it until he was out of hearing of the train.  There was light in the east, heralding a dawn that Kurt surely would welcome.  He sat down to wait, and addressed to his bewildered judgment a query as to whether or not he ought to keep on carrying the burdensome rifle.  It was not only heavy, but when daylight came it might attract attention, and his bulging coat would certainly invite curiosity.  He was in a predicament; nevertheless, he decided to hang on to the rifle.

He almost fell asleep, waiting there with his back against a fence-post.  The dawn came, and then the rosy sunrise.  And he discovered, not half a mile away, a good-sized town, where he believed he surely could hire an automobile.

Waiting grew to be so tedious that he decided to risk the early hour, and proceeded toward the town.  Upon the outskirts he met a farmer boy, who, in reply to a question, said that the town was Connell.  Kurt found another early riser in the person of a blacksmith who evidently was a Yankee and proud of it.  He owned a car that he was willing to hire out on good security.  Kurt satisfied him on that score, and then proceeded to ask how to get across the Copper River and into Golden Valley.  The highway followed the railroad from that town to Kahlotus, and there crossed a big trunk-line railroad, to turn south toward the river.