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 to thrust his hand into his pocket containing the money.

"Ouch!" he yelled, just as his eager fingers touched the roil of bank notes. "Zounds! who did that?"

"Whack—Frank caught this sound, preceded by the air-cutting whistle of some swiftly-directed object.

Whack—whack! the sound was repeated. Frank was free. His assailant had relaxed his grasp. His hands were now busy warding off mysterious blows in the face.

Frank darted to one side, his precious savings clasped by one hand. He stared in wonder.

Some one on the roof of the front passenger coach was leaning over its rounding edge. He was armed with a jointed piece of iron. This he plied whip-fashion. Twice its end had struck the robber's face, leavng [sic] two great red welts.

Then a spry, nimble form dropped from the car roof to the platform. Frank made out a boy about his own age. He was dressed wretchedly, and was thin and weak-looking, and his face was grimed, but he must have had pluck, for, running straight up to the would-be thief, he plied the weapon in his grasp like a flail.

A sharp blow made the ruffian roar with pain.