Carl and Stanley huddled in the engine cab unable to make a decision. They had talked over the plans and Stanley was about to return to the lounge car when they saw Jigger crouching down at the end of the kitchen car. A cloud of smoke enveloped him and Stanley hesitated, freezing as the smoke cleared and he saw Jigger lying across the tracks and down the back side of the car a pair of legs were moving swiftly.

"Carl! He's escaped and he's killed the deputy!" Stanley scrambled back up into the cab and sank into the corner, trembling.

"Where's the Marshal?" Carl didn't wait for an answer; he grabbed the cord and yanked on the whistle several times making it sound as frantic as possible.

The whistle froze everyone and Ryan felt his throat dry up. Devlin had flattened himself on the ground, unsure of what it meant, and he lay there letting the smoke obscure his location. Ryan waved Jonas back to the lounge car and he made a dash for the engine. At the end of the kitchen car he saw Jigger's body and he stumbled the last few steps as he realized his new predicament. He looked back to see Jonas climbing aboard the lounge car and he turned back to the engine, calling to Carl and Stanley.

"What happened?" Abner pressed Jonas as soon as the big man appeared inside the car. "Did it work?" Jonas ignored him and pushed past to the far end where he locked the door and drew the curtain over the window. "What are you doing? What happened, I demand to know!"

Everyone was one their feet shouting questions as Jonas returned to the back of the car and took up a post by the door, gun aimed directly at the opening. "He got out."

"What!" James Howden exploded. "I will be bringing a suit against this railroad, the law enforcement agency and the government and anyone else invol—" He halted his rant as he felt a cold circle on his neck and the cold voice of the Judge advising him to cease and desist.

Jean watched with fascination as the older man guided the advocate to a seat and deliberately clicked the hammer off the Derringer right under his nose. She just might have been considering cultivating the wrong fields, she thought.

"Not another peep." He turned to Jonas and calmly asked for an update of their situation.

Jonas told them everything he knew and suspected, and added that as long as they kept calm and stayed in the car, they would be safe; the Marshal was still outside and he had Stanley and the engineer to help.

"Do they have guns?" Penny asked. Jonas shook his head.

"And we have what, my Derringer and your six-shooter." Cybil pulled a face. "Doesn't sound too good to me.

"If we just stay calm, ma'am..."

"He's right," Peter spoke up for the first time since his talk with Penny. "Devlin can't get inside and eventually he'll either take off or freeze to death when the temperature drops tonight. That sky looks like it did before the rain storm but up here it'll likely turn to snow."

"I can't believe you're willing to let that horrid murderer just get away." Harriet scolded. "I've lost a husband as well as my only relative on this- this folly." If Devlin escaped, the sentencing trial in Judgement would be cancelled. There would be no money. Harriet's money.

"Mrs. Dingwall nobody wants him to get away but we don't have the means or, quite frankly, the skill or experience to deal with a man like Devlin." Judge Tumbler included everyone with a wave of his hand. "Marshal Waites is still our best hope. We should wait and see what happens."

"How will we know?" Penny asked.

"Oh we'll know, honey," Cybil snorted. "You can count on that." Her remark silenced the car and they all turned to their own concerns and how to deal with them.

Jonas told Abner to light the car lamps and to draw all the curtains.

Ryan stood on the steps of the engine cab calming both Stanley and Carl as he made his suggestion as to what they should do.

"If I take the throttle lever off nobody will be able to run the train," Carl offered, digging out a massive wrench from his toolbox.

"Good, I think if we're all in one place we'll have a better handle on things." Ryan thought of his last plan and swallowed at the cost to Jigger.

"What about Deke?" Stanley asked.

Ryan glanced at Carl who shook his head and busied himself with the control. "I don't hold out much hope, Stanley... I'm truly sorry."

"He's got a gun now," Stanley complained. "He could shoot us on the way back!"

"Maybe not." Ryan said with sudden excitement. "We've got a surprise for Mister Devlin. Get that lever and let's go, Carl."

Getting the key from Jigger's pocket was an unpleasant exercise. When Ryan rolled him over, his head flopped to one side and blood oozed past the barely attached muscles. With Carl and Stanley standing guard, Ryan let them into the prison car and quickly went to a box under the cot he slept on. He withdrew two carbines and a couple of boxes of shells, handing one to each man.

"These are best at short range but you can do some damage at a distance. Feel better now, Stan?"

"Oh boy, do I." Stanley opened the box of shells and loaded the gun, levering a cartridge into the chamber with a satisfied click.

"What about you, Marshal?" Carl started to hand back the gun.

"Keep it. I've got my own surprise right here." Ryan unwrapped a wooden box that contained a huge silver six-shooter with a carved ivory handle and a long, finely tooled barrel.

"Wow! Where did you get that?" Stanley eyed the weapon with admiration. Deke's fate had been considered, accepted and dismissed. Self-preservation was the order of the day.

"It's a family heirloom. My grandfather left it to me. He was a—"

"Same as you," Carl nodded. "I know. I told you I knew him."

Ryan opened the cylinder and slipped in the gleaming shells, closed it and gave it a spin. It didn't make a sound and when he cocked and un-cocked the hammer, it was equally silent.

"That is impressive," Carl clucked.

"Yeah... well no time for moonin' over a gun, let's get back to the others." They left cautiously, locking the car behind them.