he asked.

"Mebbe one mile, mebbe two," replied Injun, who seldom committed himself
to an exact answer.

"That's all right, come on!" cried Whitey, and they galloped straight
for the railroad.

When they reached the tracks, they dismounted and tied their ponies to
neighboring telegraph poles, fearing the effect the noise of the train
would have on the spirited animals. Then the boys went to the roadbed to
await the coming of the train. The line stretched straight toward the
west, until the rails seemed to join in the distance. But toward the
east was a curve as the road approached a gully, at the bottom of which
was a creek. It was from this creek that the water was drawn for the
tank.

The sunrise had seemed to promise a fair day, but the promise failed,
for a mist was forming over the plains. The train was not in sight, and
Whitey kneeled, and placed an ear to the track, knowing that he could
detect the vibration caused by the train before it appeared.

He rose and nodded his head. "I hear it," he said. For once Whitey had
it on Injun. He knew about railroads and Injun didn't.

"Light the lantern," said Whitey. Then he began to laugh.

Injun gazed at the lantern, then at Whitey. He could see no cause for
laughter.