It was an even thing, a fair field and no favor, when the sudden flash of the headlight of the approaching engine, as it shot around the curve, caused both men to lose their hold and spring from the track.  The strong, clear light flooded both with its brilliancy, and in that instant mutual recognition took place.

“Wittrock!”

“Moriarity!”

The train swept by, and the darkness again settled around the late combatants.

Cummings was the first to speak.

“How the devil did you get here, Dan?”

“Just what I was going to ask you, Fred.”

“Then you didn’t get my letter?”

“What letter.”

“I wrote you from Chicago, to be on hand at the ‘plant’ to-night.”

“Did you send it to Leavenworth?”

“Yes.”

“I am on my way there now.  Got busted in St, Louis, couldn’t make a raise, and I commenced to count ties for Leavenworth.”

“Yes, then you took me for some jay, and tried to hold me up.  It’s lucky I met you, I need you.”

“Any money in it?”

“Slathers of it.”

“What’s your lay?”

Cummings hesitated a minute before replying, and then said: 

“Dan! you went back on me once, I don’t know that I can trust you, you are too—­”

“Trust me!  You give Dan Moriarity a chance to cover some tin, and he’s yours, body and soul.”

“What’s your price to help me, and keep your mouth shut?”

“$2,000.”

“It’s a go,” and Cummings held out his hand.

The compact was thus sealed, and lighting a match, Cummings commenced to look for his valise.

It had, fortunately, fallen outside the rails, and picking it up, Cummings led the way, followed by the somewhat surprised and still more curious Moriarity.

At this point on the Missouri river, the bluffs rise abruptly from the banks.  The railroad, winding around the curves, was literally hewn from the solid rock.  Deep gullies and ravines, starting from the water, Intersected all portions of the country, and the thick underbrush made this place a safe and secure hiding-place for fugitives from justice, river pirates and moonshiners.

Cummings, at a point where one of these gullies branched off from the railroad, turned into it, and with confident steps, followed closely by Moriarity, scaled the rocky precipice.  Half way up the toilsome ascent, he halted, and placing his fingers in his mouth, gave three shrill whistles.  Two short, and one long drawn sounds.

It was immediately answered; and in an instant, a flaming torch sprang into view, and almost as quickly was extinguished.

A short climb, and turning sharply to the right, Cummings again stopped.  The signal, repeated softly, was answered by a voice asking: 

“Who comes there?”

To which Cummings replied: 

“It is I, be not afraid,” at the same time poking Moriarity in the ribs, and chuckling: