His companion, who had been stooping on one knee in his prying
operations, essayed to join him, slipped, tilted over, and before he
could recover himself Bart was upon him.
"What are you about here?" demanded the latter.
The prisoner was of man-like build and proportions. He did not speak,
and tried to keep his features hidden from the rays of the near switch
light.
"Lemme go!" he mouthed, with purposely subdued intonation.
"Not till I know who you are--not till I find out what you're up to,"
declared Bart. "Turn around here. I'll stick closer than a brother till
I see that face of yours!"
He swung his captive towards the light, but a broad-peaked cap and the
partial disguise of a crudely blackened face defeated his purpose.
Bart was about to shout to his father in front, or to his roustabout
friend, whom he expected must be somewhere near by this time, when his
captive gave a jerk, tore one arm free, and whirled the other aloft.
His hand clenched the implement he had used to pry away the bars, and
Bart now saw what it was.
The object the mysterious robber was utilizing for burglarious
purposes, was the signal flag used at the switch shanty where Lem Wacker
had been doing substitute duty that day.
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