The Wire Devils

Chapter XIX: Birds of a Feather

-XIXBIRDS OF A FEATHER IT took twenty minutes for the run to the Junco tion. And at the Junction, as far as the Hawk could tell, since, yielding to what had become a sort of habit with him, he descended to the ground on the opposite side from the station, he was the only passenger for that stop. It was dark here; strangely silent, and strangely lonely. Bame's Junction owed its existence neither to a town site, nor to commercial importance-it existed simply as a junction , and for purely railroad operating purposes only. It was, in fact, the other extreme as compared to Selkirk with its lighted and busy platform, its extensive yard, and its ubiquitous and, perhaps, too inquisitive yardmen! The Hawk dropped on all fours and began to creep along the side of the smoker toward the forward end of the train, his eyes strained warily through the darkness against the possibility of one or other of the engine crew descending from the cab. He passed the smoker and kept on along the length of the baggage car, still crawling, moving without a sound. When he rose from his knees finally, he was crouched down in between the tender and the for205 ~6 THE WIRE DEVILS ward end of the bagage car; and a moment later, as the train jerked forward into motion, he wa~ crouched again-this time on the end beam of the baggage car which, in lieu of platform, served as a sort of wide threshold for the door. The train was beginning to gain momentum now, and against the jolt and swing of the increasing speed the Hawk steadied himself by clinging with one hand to the iron handrail at the side of the door -with the other hand he tried the door cautiously, and found it locked. From the pocket in the back lining of his coat he produced his mask, fingered it speculatively for an instant, then slipped it over his face. True, this was to be his last venture in the Wire Devils' preserves , but he had always worn a mask, and-there came a twisted grin-they perhaps would not recognise him without it. And it was quite necessary that they should recognise the Hawk-if he was to keep that promise to the Butcher! It might be a farewell , as far as he was concerned, but he intended that it should be a memorable one, and that no doubt should be permitted to linger in their minds as to the identity of the parting guest they had so lavishly, if ungraciously, entertained! From the same pocket came his skeleton keys. The Hawk now felt tentatively with his finger over the keyhole, nodded his head briskly, and from the bunch of keys, still by the sense of touch, selected one without hesitation. The Hawk, however, for the moment, made no effort to open the door. The rush BIRDS OF A FEATHER 29'1 of the wind was in his face now; like some black, monstrous, uncanny wall confronting him, the tender clashed and clattered, and swayed in dizzy lurches before his eyes; while heavenward the sky was tinged with a deep red glow, and the cab was ablaze with light from the wide-flung fire-box door, and the top of the baggage car door, and the individual par· ticles of coal on the top of the tender's heap stood out in sharp relief against the background of the night. And then the darkness fell again. The Hawk's hand shot forward to the keyhole, lingered there an instant, as he crouched again sway. ing with the lurch of the train, then the skeleton keys were returned to the pocket in the back lining of his coat-and the Hawk was in action. In a flash he had opened and closed the door behind him, and, with his back aga~nst it, his automatic flung significantly forward in his hand, he stood staring down the length of the car. There was a hoarse, startled yell, that was lost in the roar of the flying train, and the baggageman, from his chair at one side of the car and in front of a shelf-like desk topped with a rack of pigeonholes , leaped to his feet. "Sit down I" invited the Hawk coldly. The man hesitated, but the next instant dropped back into his chail', as...