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room led out onto the platform. The night was warm, and the platform door was open to allow some cross-ventilation.
    If the agent was behind the ticket window, Bodie would have to lure him into the waiting room some way. Luck was with him, though, and the man emerged from the storeroom, dusting his hands off from moving something around in there. He was a middle-aged, balding man wearing a green eyeshade. With a friendly smile, he asked Bodie, “Something I can do for you, young fella?”
    â€œIs the eastbound train on time?”
    The agent scratched at his jaw. “Yeah, I reckon. Haven’t heard anything saying otherwise. You need to buy a ticket? I can flag it down for you if you do. Ought to be here in another fifteen, twenty minutes.”
    While the man was talking, Swint and the other two cat-footed into the depot from the platform behind him. Bodie had to use all his willpower not to look directly at them and give the game away.
    Of course, it wouldn’t really matter if he did. They outnumbered the agent four to one, and he didn’t even appear to be armed.
    Swint put the barrel of his revolver against the back of the man’s neck and eared back the hammer. The metallic ratcheting echoed sinisterly in the small room. “Oh, you’ll flag down the train, all right, friend. Now don’t you move.”
    The agent stiffened and his eyes widened in fear.
    Bodie felt sorry for the man. He drew his gun and told him, “You just do what we tell you and you’ll be all right.”
    The agent’s mouth opened and closed, but he didn’t say anything.
    Swint prodded him with the gun again. “You understand, friend?”
    â€œS-Sure,” the agent stammered. “Just don’t kill me.”
    â€œI won’t shoot you,” Swint promised. “Not as long as you cooperate.”
    â€œWhat is it you fellas want? That train’s not carrying anything except freight and a few passengers. There’s nothing special in the express car.”
    Swint laughed. “That shows how much you know, amigo. The railroad don’t tell you little fellas about the deals it makes with the government. They probably figure it’s safer that way, keepin’ you in the dark. Might have been, too, if somebody hadn’t sold ’em out.”
    â€œMister, I don’t have the slightest idea what you’re talkin’ about.”
    â€œThat don’t matter. Just come with me and raise that flag so the engineer’ll know to stop. You be sure to give him the right signal, too. No mistakes or you’ll be mighty sorry.” As Swint started to take the agent out onto the platform, he glanced back at Bodie and added, “Go get the horses.”
    Bodie nodded, pouched his iron, and hurried out of the depot.
    He was back in less than five minutes, leading all four horses. He tied them outside the station and went back in. Hinkley and Green were standing watch just inside the door, in case any of the townspeople should show up, but Bodie saw right away that wasn’t the case. The depot was just as empty as he’d left it.
    Swint waited on the far side of the waiting room by the platform door. Bodie frowned as he realized he didn’t see the agent. Then he glanced toward the storeroom door, which was still partially open, and stiffened as he saw a pair of legs on the floor.
    â€œWhat in blazes?” Bodie muttered. He pushed the door open farther and drew in a startled breath as light from the waiting room spilled over the man’s motionless body. A dark pool of blood was spreading slowly around his head. Bodie could see the gaping wound where the man’s throat had been cut.
    He turned his shocked gaze toward Swint. “You told him you weren’t going to kill him.”
    â€œI said I wouldn’t shoot him,” Swint replied with a leering grin. “I didn’t. That trusty knife of mine did the trick and made sure he