IN THE AISLE
★
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!