The train pulls out.  There is a lantern on the first blind.  I lie low, and see the peering shack go by.  But there is also a lantern on the second blind.  That shack spots me and calls to the shack who has gone past on the first blind.  Both jump off.  Never mind, I’ll take the third blind and deck her.  But heavens, there is a lantern on the third blind, too.  It is the conductor.  I let it go by.  At any rate I have now the full train-crew in front of me.  I turn and run back in the opposite direction to what the train is going.  I look over my shoulder.  All three lanterns are on the ground and wobbling along in pursuit.  I sprint.  Half the train has gone by, and it is going quite fast, when I spring aboard.  I know that the two shacks and the conductor will arrive like ravening wolves in about two seconds.  I spring upon the wheel of the hand-brake, get my hands on the curved ends of the roofs, and muscle myself up to the decks; while my disappointed pursuers, clustering on the platform beneath like dogs that have treed a cat, howl curses up at me and say unsocial things about my ancestors.

But what does that matter?  It is five to one, including the engineer and fireman, and the majesty of the law and the might of a great corporation are behind them, and I am beating them out.  I am too far down the train, and I run ahead over the roofs of the coaches until I am over the fifth or sixth platform from the engine.  I peer down cautiously.  A shack is on that platform.  That he has caught sight of me, I know from the way he makes a swift sneak inside the car; and I know, also, that he is waiting inside the door, all ready to pounce out on me when I climb down.  But I make believe that I don’t know, and I remain there to encourage him in his error.  I do not see him, yet I know that he opens the door once and peeps up to assure himself that I am still there.

The train slows down for a station.  I dangle my legs down in a tentative way.  The train stops.  My legs are still dangling.  I hear the door unlatch softly.  He is all ready for me.  Suddenly I spring up and run forward over the roof.  This is right over his head, where he lurks inside the door.  The train is standing still; the night is quiet, and I take care to make plenty of noise on the metal roof with my feet.  I don’t know, but my assumption is that he is now running forward to catch me as I descend at the next platform.  But I don’t descend there.  Halfway along the roof of the coach, I turn, retrace my way softly and quickly to the platform both the shack and I have just abandoned.  The coast is clear.  I descend to the ground on the off-side of the train and hide in the darkness.  Not a soul has seen me.