A DESPERATE REMEDY


"All right, Bart?" called out the man in the car, as the other
seemed to have reached the cross-bars far up the pole, over the
lower of which he threw a leg, after the confident manner of one
accustomed to such antics.

"Sure. It was dead easy," came floating down from above.

"Then get to work, and make a clean job of it. Look here, boy,
don't you be thinkin' of leavin' us in the lurch just now. I ain't
fit to run this shebang, so we need you, and need you bad. I
reckon you know what this is, don't you?" and the fellow showed
something that glistened like steel in the mellow moonlight.

Frank could not help feeling a little chill; still, he, was not
given to showing the white feather easily.

"Of course I do. It isn't the first time I've seen a revolver," he
managed to say, with a nervous little laugh.

"All right, then; don't get gay, and make me ugly, or something
might happen. Hey! Bart, why don't you get busy?" raising his
voice again.

There was a sharp click, and a clear "tang," as of a strained wire
snapping. Frank understood now what was doing. These men had fear
of pursuit, and were cutting the telegraph wires in order to