Observing that the trainman was holding his light over the side
of the car and peering down at him, Teddy ran along on all fours
until he was out of sight of the brakeman, then he straightened
up and ran toward the rear of the train as fast as his feet would
carry him, while the railroad man began climbing over the cars
again, headed for the caboose at the rear.

Teddy had gained the rear of the train by this time, but he did
not show himself just yet. He waited until the flagman had come
in, and until the fellow who had put him off had disappeared in
the caboose.

At that, Teddy sprang up, and, swinging to the platform of the
caboose, quickly climbed the iron ladder that led to the roof of
the little boxlike car. He had no sooner flattened himself on
the roof than the train began to move again.

Only one more stop was made during the night and that for water.
Just before daylight they rumbled into the yards at Atlantic
City, and Teddy scrambled from his unsteady perch, quickly
clambering down so as to be out of the way before the trainmen
should discover his presence.

But quickly as he had acted, he had not been quick enough.
The trainman who had put him off down the line collared the lad
the minute his feet touched the platform of the caboose.

"You here again?" he demanded sternly.

Teddy grinned sheepishly.