in something less than record time.

"Who was that you were talking to?" he demanded. But King continued
to look out the door.

Hyde came and tapped on his shoulder impatiently, but King did not
seem to understand until the native sergeant had quite vanished
into the shadows.

"Let me pass, will you!" Hyde demanded. "I'll have that thief
caught if the train has to wait a week while they do it!"

He pushed past, but he was scarcely on the step when the station-
master blew his whistle, and his colored minion waved a lantern back
and forth. The engine shrieked forthwith of death and torment;
carriage doors slammed shut in staccato series; the heat relaxed
as the engine moved--loosened--let go--lifted at last, and a trainload
of hot passengers sighed thanks to an unresponsive sky as the train
gained speed and wind crept in through the thermantidotes.

Only through the broken thermantidote in King's compartment no wet
air came. Hyde knelt on King's berth and wrestled with it like a
caged animal, but with no result except that the sweat poured out
all over him and he was more uncomfortable than before.

"What are you looking at?" he demanded at last, sitting on King's
berth. His head swam. He had to wait a few seconds before he could
step across to his own side.

"Only a knife," said King. He was standing under the dim gas lamp