She knew, from what she had gathered of their casual hints,
that this was to be the scene of the train hold-up.
It seemed impossible that this little group of men could hold the
great fabric of a train with all its scores of passengers at their
mercy. In spite of herself, half her heart wished them success. There
was Terry Jordan forgetful of the wound in his arm; Shorty Rhinehart,
his saturnine face longer and more calamitous than ever; Hal Purvis,
grinning and nodding his head; Bill Kilduff with his heavy jaw set
like a bull dog's; Lee Haines, with a lock of tawny hair blowing over
his forehead, smiling faintly as he listened to Silent as if he heard
a girl tell a story of love; and finally Jim Silent himself, huge,
solemn, confident. She began to feel that these six men were worth six
hundred.
She hated them for some reasons; she feared them for others; but the
brave blood of Joe Cumberland was thick in her and she loved the
danger of the coming moment. Their plans were finally agreed upon,
their masks arranged, and after Haines had tied a similar visor over
Kate's face, they started down the hill at a swinging gallop.
In front of the house of the station-agent they drew up, and while the
others were at their horses, Lee Haines dismounted and rapped loudly
at the door.
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