Suddenly his eyes dilated; he leaned toward the window, and raised both
hands as if to shade his eyes. Then he turned and ran toward the door,
which was sliding shut. The little man's face was white as chalk; his
eyes were round and blazing with excitement. Against the protests of the
guard, he squeezed through the door and made his escape just as the
train was beginning to move. Heedless of the commotion he caused, the
man dodged wildly across the platform toward a local, which stood there,
gongs ringing and doors closing. For all his haste, the little man was
too late to enter. He pounded on the glass of one of the closed doors
imperiously.
"Next train," said the guard shortly.
"Let me on!" demanded the little man, waving his arms wildly. "Let me
on! You have time!"
"Next train," repeated the guard.
The train began to move swiftly. The little man ran alongside, peering
in through the windows at something or somebody inside.
"Look out!" called the guard, watching him.
The man, however, paid no attention to the warning. It is strange that
he was not hurt as he ran blindly alongside the train. Perilously near
the end of the platform he stopped short and put his hand to his head.
The train thundered away, its colored rear-lights vanishing far-off in
the black tunnel.
Pages:
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465