Chapter XV

IN THE AISLE
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The Limited heeled sharply as it struck a curve and the whistle moaned a warning through the wetness of the night. A street light flickered by and in the flash of light that penetrated the car Bob caught a fleeting glimpse of a man in the aisle. The figure of the intruder was heavy and he was hunched forward. There had been no chance to recognize the face, but Bob was sure now that the other man in the car was Hamsa.

Another street light shot a beam through the windows and it played squarely on the face of the man in the aisle. It was Hamsa!

Bob felt in his coat pockets for something to defend himself and his groping hands came on the blackjack which Hamsa had used on Tully. There was the grim hint of a smile on Bob’s lips as he slipped his right hand through the leather thong on the leaden slug. He now had both an effective and dangerous weapon and he knew he would be justified in using it.

Once more there came the streak of light in the car as the Limited roared over another crossing and Bob saw that Hamsa was nearer, almost at the head of the berth.

With his muscles tense and his whole body balanced, Bob waited for another flash of light from the street which would give him an opportunity to strike down the intruder. Then the clatter of the trucks over switch points told him the train was out of the village. Whatever happened from that point on would probably be in utter darkness unless the porter happened to come back into the car and turn on the lights.

The Limited settled down to its steady stride again and Bob, tense and crouching waited. His breath was coming in short jerks and he was afraid that his heart was pounding so hard its beats would be audible to the other who was intent on catching him by surprise in the darkened berth.

By straining his eyes Bob finally made out the approaching shadow that was Hamsa. He drew back his right arm and waited.

Hamsa came nearer, treading cautiously lest he alarm the youth he believed was sleeping soundly in the berth.

Suddenly a beam of light shot out from Hamsa’s hand as he turned on a flash light, but the rays fell only on the rumpled bedclothes.

Bob heard a smothered exclamation from the other and before Hamsa could swing the beam of the flash light around in search of him he struck forth with the blackjack.

Just as Bob swung the weapon the trucks hit a sag in the track and the young federal agent was thrown partially off balance. He had aimed at Hamsa’s head, and although his blow missed that the weapon crashed down on his shoulder and Bob heard a sharp cry of pain.

He jerked back the weapon and struck again and again. Each time he heard a cry of pain and then the flash light thudded to the floor and its beam went out.

They went at it hand to hand then, Hamsa wresting the blackjack away from Bob and hurling it to the far end of the car. The other man was much older and twice as heavy as Bob, but he was not as lithe and his fists could not move as rapidly.

It was a bitter struggle there in the narrow, darkened aisle of the Pullman. Hamsa kicked out viciously and the blow caught Bob in the stomach. He felt sick all over and dropped into the aisle, crouching there and seeking temporary shelter until he felt able to resume the battle.

Hamsa bent down and searched for the flash light and Bob lashed out at him with one foot. The blow caught the other in the face and was answered by a startled exclamation of pain and rage.

Then Bob’s own hands came upon the flash light. He picked it up and his fingers sought the little button which controlled its beam of light. Bob turned on the light and the rays swept down the aisle, coming to rest on the battered face of Hamsa.

It was not until then that Bob realized how powerful had been his own blows for it was obvious that his assailant was in distress. Now if he could land a real knockout he would be able to leave Hamsa long enough to summon assistance from the trainmen.

Bob started down the aisle, but pulled up short when Hamsa drew a gun from his coat pocket. The young federal agent, unarmed, was in no position to face a man with a gun and he tried to duck behind a seat. But Hamsa fired a snap shot and the flash light, shattered by the bullet, dropped out of Bob’s numbed hand.

The tables had been turned. Where Bob had held the advantage a moment before with the flash light, Hamsa, aided by the darkness and his gun, was in a position to win.

But he had evidently had enough of hand to hand encounters for one night and Bob heard him running toward the rear of the car. A moment later the door of the Pullman slammed shut.

Bob stepped out into the aisle and massaged his right hand. It prickled sharply as the blood flowed back into the fingers which had been bruised by the flash light as the bullet had torn it out of his hands.

Then Bob took up the chase, for he felt sure that Hamsa must be seeking his hideout on the train. If he could trace him to it, he would summon the trainmen to assist in the capture.

Bob stepped cautiously into the rear vestibule of the car. There was no one there and the door to the next Pullman was open. He hastened inside and met a startled porter in the aisle.

“Did a man just go down the aisle?” asked Bob.

“Yes, sir, Boss, and he looked like he’d been in a fight.”

“That’s the fellow I’m after,” said Bob. “Run up ahead and get the conductor and any other trainmen you can. Tell them to get back here as fast as they can.”

Then Bob hastened down the aisle and the porter, willing enough to leave the car, went forward to carry out Bob’s instructions.

The young federal agent hastened through a second Pullman where the lights were low and finally stepped into the observation car. So far there had been no trace of Hamsa and no indication that he had sought shelter under one of the trap doors in the vestibules.

Bob entered the observation car cautiously. The lights had been turned down and he stopped at the head end of the car and snapped on all of the switches, a torrent of light illuminating the interior of the car. Even the observation platform at the back end leaped into view as a special light out there came on under the magic touch of the switches.

Bob stared hard at the back of the car. The door to the observation platform was open but beyond that he could see a man’s legs dangling, apparently in midair. Bob threw caution aside then and raced toward the half open door at the rear of the car. The legs were being drawn upward, twisting and kicking as the man attempted to pull himself onto the roof of the observation car. This then was Hamsa’s hiding place—on the roof of the rear car of the train!