carried for the purpose. When the train came to a standstill, they could
get aboard, and warn the train crew. It would be easy to recruit an
armed force from among the passengers, for in those days, in the West,
there were few men who went unarmed. And when the bandits attempted
their hold-up, they would meet with a warm reception.

The train left the Junction at six, and should reach the water tank
about three-quarters of an hour later, though it often was late. As the
boys had started from the ranch house at two, Whitey figured that they
would have time enough, though none to waste.

The hours could not be counted, but perhaps three had passed, and
through the scented, velvety darkness there came a touch of gray in the
east, which changed to pink, then to opal, as the coming sun tinged the
low-lying clouds. The animal and bird life began to stir, preparing to
greet the beauty of the dawn, or rather, to start on their affairs of
the day, for it is likely that the denizens of the prairie had as little
thought for the glory of the sunrise as had Injun and Whitey, whose
minds were firmly fixed on train robbers.

When the light was full, the boys drew up, and looked off toward the
southwest. Whitey had been depending on Injun's never-failing sense of
direction to carry them aright. This ability to point toward any point
of the compass, in the dark, was one of Injun's gifts--though he didn't
know what a compass was. And sure enough, away off there against the
gray of the clouds was a line of high, tiny crosses, telegraph poles,
near which stretched the tracks of the road.

When he saw them, Whitey could not resist a whoop of joy. "If we ride
straight for them, how far do you think we'll be from the water tank?"