“They’ve guessed us out,” said Andy.  “Of course they can only delay us, but that counts just now.  If the train—­”

“She’s coming!” sang out Midget in a nervous, high-pitched voice.

Andy’s nerves were on a severe strain.  A locomotive rounded a curve.  The trolley wagon was still a quarter-of-a-mile distant.

The engine slowed down to a stop, the repair rig with flying horses attached less than a square away.

The baggage coach door opened.  A man jumped out and started to put the box aboard.

“Hold on—­through train,” he yelled at Andy.

“That’s all right.  Quick, get aboard,” he urged his companions.

Andy glanced from the windows of the coach they entered as the train started up with a jerk.

He saw the trolley wagon dash up to the platform.  A police officer and some company men jumped off.

“Just in time,” murmured Andy with satisfaction, as the station flashed from view.

The coach was nearly empty.  He found a double seat.  Miss Starr uttered a great sigh of relief.  Poor Billy Blow sank down, thoroughly tired out.  Midget laughed.

“I hope it’s a long ride,” he said.

“I’m afraid,” spoke Miss Starr, “it won’t be, Midge.  See,” and she opened a little purse, showing only a few silver coins.  “I have some money in a bank in New York, but that does not help us at the present moment.”

“I sent all I had to my poor wife,” announced the clown dejectedly.

“That’s all right,” broke in Andy cheerily.  “Here’s a route list,” and he picked up a timetable from the next seat.  “Can you tell me where this train is bound for?” he inquired politely of a gentleman occupying the opposite seat.

“Baltimore.”

“That sounds good,” said Miss Starr.  “There was a show there last week.  The season’s broken, we can’t hope for a star engagement, but we might get in for a few weeks.”

“I haven’t the money to chase up situations all over the country,” lamented the clown.

“Don’t worry on that score,” put in Andy briskly.  “You people find out where you want to go.  I’ll take care of the bills.”

“You, Andy?” spoke Miss Starr, with a stare.

“Yes, ma’am.  You see, I’ve got my savings—­”

“Ho! ho!” laughed Billy Blow bitterly.  “Savings!  Out of what?  You haven’t drawn one week’s full salary since you joined us.”

“Remember the needle and thread you loaned me on the train when we were going south, Miss Starr?” asked Andy.

“Why, yes, I think I do,” nodded the equestrienne.

“Well, I wanted it to sew up a fifty dollar bill for safe-keeping.  Here it is.”

Andy with his knife ripped open a fob pocket and produced the bank note in question.

“Our common fund,” he cried, waving it gaily.  “Mr. Blow, designate your terminus.  We’ll not be put off the train, while this lasts.”

Billy Blow choked up.  He directed one grateful glance at Andy.  Then he snuggled Midget close, and hid his face against him.