There was a shriek from the women passengers in the crowded Pullman, and
the men looked at each other in consternation. From the platform came the
sound of a scuffle, interspersed with oaths. Then, through the narrow
corridor that bordered the smoking-room, hurried two men, pushing the
terrified negro porter ahead of them. Each of the intruders wore a black
cloth tied over the lower part of his face, and before the bewildered
passengers knew what had happened they found themselves looking along the
blue-black barrels of two ugly revolvers.
It was a startling break in an uneventful day. For several hours the
Overland Limited had hummed along over the boundless prairies that
stretched away on either side with scarcely a break to the horizon. They
had time to make up, and on these open spaces the engineer had let it out
to the limit. So swiftly and smoothly had it sped along that the "click,
click" as it struck each separate rail had merged into one droning "song
of the road."
There had been no rain for a week past, and the dust lay thick on the
grass and cactus.
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