behind his safe, on which lay two large revolvers. On the platform-car
he found the soldiers and their commander, sitting silent and
unconcerned as before. When Sinclair reached the latter and nodded, he
rose and faced the men, and his fine voice was clearly heard above the
rattle of the train.

"Company, 'ten_tion_!" The soldiers straightened themselves in a second.

"With ball cartridge, _load_!" It was done with the precision of a
machine. Then the lieutenant spoke, in the same clear, crisp tones that
the troops had heard in more than one fierce battle.

"Men," said he, "in a few minutes the Perry gang, which you will
remember, are going to try to run this train off the track, wound and
kill the passengers, and rob the cars and the United States mail. It is
our business to prevent them. Sergeant Wilson" (a gray-bearded
non-commissioned officer stood up and saluted), "I am going on the
engine. See that my orders are repeated. Now, men, aim low, and don't
waste any shots." He and Sinclair climbed over the tender and spoke to
the engine-driver.

"How are the air-brakes working?" asked Sinclair.

"First-rate."

"Then, if you slow down now, you could stop the train in a third of her
length, couldn't you?"

"Easy, if you don't mind being shaken up a bit."