"All right," said Markham, selecting a piece. "Now then, do you see that man coming down the track?"
"Yes," nodded the flagman.
"He will ask you about the out freights, maybe about some particular car. It's the car holding Frank Newton's furniture that he's after—their household goods they're shipping to Pleasantville."
"Aha," nodded Boyce.
"I will be in sight," went on Markham, rapidly. "Point me out to him. Say I can tell him, will you?"
"But what for—no, that's all right. I will, I will," pledged the flagman.
Markham ran down a siding. He was busy about a certain car for a few minutes. As, after interviewing the flagman. Sherry came that way, he discovered Markham seated on top of a locked box car idly kicking his heels against its side.
"Hey. hello," hailed Sherry—"this the out freights?"
"How should I know?" muttered Markham.
"Oh, I know you. You're the fellow who trains with young Newton. Of course you'd be here, and of course this is the car. Yes," decided Sherry, scanning its side. "Sure. Here's the destination marked in chalk."
