Both had made the most desperate efforts to get rid of their bonds and
gags, but found it impossible to do so.

Some hours later they felt the train get in motion and knew they were on
their way to Buffalo.

The time dragged very slowly.

Hour after hour passed by and the night passed and another day came.

Hunger and thirst were now added to the miseries they already endured and
the strain they were under brought them to the verge of fainting.

Toward noontime the train paused at a way station to take on some freight
and the box in which the detectives were packed was thrown over to make
room for it.

As it struck the floor, Old King Brady struck his face forcibly against the
side of the box and made his nose bleed.

He gave a deep groan and one of the freight handlers heard it.

"Good Lor'!" he exclaimed in startled tones, as he glared around. "What's
that? Sounded like a man's voice."

Another groan from the old detective attracted his attention to the packing
case, and he saw a tiny stream of blood trickling out of it through one of
the cracks, upon the floor.

A thrill of horror darted through the man.

He began to suspect a corpse was in the box, and visions of a dreadful
murder mystery floated through his mind.

"Hey, Tom! Hey, Bill! Come here, quick!" he yelled at his companions.

"What's the matter?"

"What do you want?"

"Bring a hammer here!"

"Did you bust open a box?"

"No. But I'm going to."

"What for?"

"I heard a man groaning in that--ha! Hear it?"

A third groan from Old King Brady reached their ears and seeing the blood,
they quickly realized that there was some one in the case.

Procuring a hammer, they pulled off the lid.

The two detectives were revealed.

Harry was senseless.

Cries of astonishment escaped the men, and observing that the pair were
still alive, they pulled them out of the box and laid them on the floor.

Removing the gags and bonds, the trainmen brought water and bathed the
bruised and swollen faces of the detectives.

This treatment revived Harry.

Both were very weak, and they ached all over.

"Give us a drink," Old King Brady implored.

When this was done they asked for something to eat.

The trainmen got some food at the station and a big crowd gathered round
when the news spread.

After eating and drinking and rubbing their legs and arms, the Bradys
recovered rapidly and told who they were and what befell them.

In a short time they