It was a passenger train running on meter gauge. Its compartments were therefore quite small. There were not many passengers, either; hence when we found an empty first-class compartment, it did not surprise me. Inside the coach, it was dark. We groped for a switch, found it and pressed it—to no avail. Lalmohan Babu said, ‘Bulbs in railway compartments tend to vanish even in civilized areas. In this land of bandits, one shouldn’t even expect to find any!’ ‘The two of you can take the benches. I will spread a durrie on the floor and manage. We have six whole hours in hand—time enough for a nice, long nap!’ said Feluda. Lalmohan Babu raised a mild objection to this plan, ‘Why should you be on the floor? Let me . . .!’ But Feluda said, ‘Certainly not!’ so sternly that he said nothing more. I saw him spread his holdall on one of the benches, not merely because of Feluda’s words, but perhaps also out of concern for his aching joints. The train began pulling out of the platform. Within a minute of leaving the station, suddenly a figure jumped on to the footboard of our carriage. Lalmohan Babu said with a laugh, ‘Hey, this is a reserved compartment. Ladies only!’ Then the door swung open quickly, and a bright light from a torch dazzled our eyes for a few seconds. We saw a hand coming towards us. The point of a gun shone in that light. All of us raised our arms high above our heads. ‘Get up, dear hearts! The door’s open, get out of the train. All of you!’ It was the voice of Mandar Bose. ‘But . . . but the train’s still running!’ said Lalmohan Babu in a trembling voice. ‘Shut up!’ roared Mandar Bose and inched a little closer. The torchlight was playing on our faces constantly, never standing still for more than a few moments. ‘You trying to be funny?’ Mr Bose went on. ‘What do you do in Calcutta? Don’t you climb in and out running buses? Get up, I tell you!’ Just as he finished speaking, something happened so totally unexpectedly that it took my breath away. I shall never forget it as long as I live. Feluda’s right arm came down in a flash. He grasped a corner of the durrie and yanked it off the floor. As a result, Mandar Bose lost his balance. His feet slipped, then rose in the air for a second, before he fell, the top half of his body hitting the wall of the carriage with a bang. At the same time, the revolver was knocked out of his hand. It fell on Lalmohan Babu’s bench, and the torch dropped from his left hand on to the floor. All that happened in a split second. Even before Mandar Bose crashed down on the floor, Feluda had sprung up, clutching his own revolver, which had come out of his jacket pocket.

‘Get up!’ This time