Then he put his head out of the window, and saw to his disgust Mr.Biggleswade, his coat-tails flying, two hundred yards from the station, yelling lustily, but making a very good pace indeed for his flabby bulk.

The doors were shutting, and Tinker watched the guard breathlessly.

When he whistled, Mr.Biggleswade had yet fifty yards to go.

At the sound he yelled louder than ever, and made a tremendous spurt.

The train was well on the move when he rushed into the station; but he dashed at a compartment in the last carriage, wrenched the door open, scrambled on to the footboard, and tumbled in, amidst the shouts of the indignant porters.
Tinker drew in his head with a blank face.