“It’s all right if that’s the case,” I returned coolly.

Holding my valise on my lap, I settled back in the seat again, but not to sleep.  The little adventure had aroused me thoroughly.  Mr. Allen Price sat beside me for a few moments in silence.

“Guess I’ll go into the smoker,” he said finally, as he rose.  “Maybe a cigar will help me,” and taking up his handbag, he walked down the aisle.

In a dreamy way I meditated over what had occurred.  I could not help but think that the handkerchief I had found spread over my face had been saturated with chloroform, and that my fellow-passenger had endeavored to put me in a sound sleep and then rifle my bag.  Of course I might be mistaken, but still I was positive that Mr. Allen Price would bear watching.

About four o’clock in the morning the train came to a sudden stop.  The jar was so pronounced that it woke nearly all of the passengers.

Thinking that possibly we had arrived at our destination, I raised the window and peered out.

Instead of being in the heart of a city, however, I soon discovered we were in a belt of timber land.  Huge trees lined the road on both sides, and ahead I could hear the flowing of a mountain stream.

The train hands were out with their lanterns, and by their movements it was plain to see that something was up.

I waited in my seat for ten minutes or more, and then as a number of passengers left the car, I took up my bag and did the same.

A walk to the front of the train soon made known the cause of the delay.  Over a small mountain stream a strong wooden bridge with iron frame had been built.  Near the bridge grew a number of tall trees, and one of these had been washed loose by the water and overturned in such a manner that the largest branch blocked the progress of the locomotive.  The strong headlight had revealed the state of affairs to the engineer, and he had stopped within five feet of the obstruction.  Had he run on, it is impossible to calculate what amount of damage might have been done.

“Don’t see what we are going to do, except to run back to Smalleyville,” said the engineer, who was in consultation with the conductor.

“Can’t we roll the tree out of the way?” asked the latter official.

The engineer shook his head.

“Too heavy.  All the men on the train couldn’t budge it.”

They stood in silence for a moment.

“If you had a rope, you could make the engine haul it,” I suggested to the fireman, who was a young fellow.

“A good idea,” he exclaimed, and reported it to his superior.

“First-class plan; but we haven’t got the rope,” said the engineer.

“Have you got an axe?”

“Yes.”

“Then why not chop it off?”

“That’s so!  Larry, bring the axes.”

“It won’t do any good,” said one of the brakemen who had just come up.  “The bridge has shifted.”