They took their time following him. When they caught up, Melvis was handing a cellular phone to an Amtrak worker in a white plastic hard hat and orange safety vest.
"We got a haz-mat situation down the line a piece," Melvis bellowed. "Not twenty miles from here."
"How's the engine?" K.C. asked in a stricken voice.
"Dunno. Look, I can't take you boys with me on account of it's a hazardous-materials situation, and you're general pains in the butt anyway. Adios and happy trails."
Melvis tried to push past the Master of Sinanju, whose right sandal suddenly darted between Melvis's ostrich-skin boots.
Melvis fell flat on his face, and the Master of Sinanju stepped onto his back.
"I will not allow you to stand again until you have agreed to take us with you," Chiun said with measured vehemence.
"You're a nice old geezer, I do admit it," Melvis grunted. "But if you don't get offa my back in five seconds, I'm gonna rear up and wash over you like the Galveston flood."
Face bland, Chiun shifted his sandals apart.
"Better tell your friend to do what Mel said," K.C. said anxiously. "He can't weigh much more than ninety pounds."
Remo shook his head. "He's on his own."
"How can you say that about such a sweet old man?"
"I meant Melvis," said Remo.
"Last chance," bellowed Melvis. "I'm countin' backward from three."
Chiun tucked his hands into his kimono sleeves.
"Ready? Three!"
Chiun closed his eyes. He seemed to be concentrating.
"Two." Melvis arched his back.
Chiun showed no sign of moving.
"One! "
Chiun tapped one toe softly.
Melvis suddenly collapsed like a deflated tire. He went "Oof!" as his face jammed into the soft soil. He began making strenuous noises like a rooting hog. His blunt fingers gouged the earth as he strained to lift the incredible weight of the old Korean from his broad back.
The Master of Sinanju simply stood there, eyes closed, serene, a vagrant breeze snatching at his wispy beard.
Puffing, Melvis twisted his face around so he could breathe through his gulping mouth.
"What'd you do-set a boulder on my back? That ain't fair."
"There ain't nothing on your back except that little old man," K.C. pointed out.
"Don't you prevaricate at a fellow rail fan. I know a dad-gum boulder when one lights on my poor spine."
"I will step off if you agree to take us with you," said Chiun.
"Dang it, you got me flummoxed. Okay, doggonit, I agree."
And Chiun stepped off. He alighted gently as if he weighed no more than a small child.
Melvis got himself turned around, stared up at the Nebraska sky and concentrated on getting air in and out of his wheezing lungs.
"What the hell happened?" he gasped at last.
Chiun smiled thinly. "I thought like a boulder."
"That's some powerful imaginin'. You near to squashed me flat."
"To squash you flat would have required thinking like an elephant. I did not wish to do that to you, a fellow appreciator of steam."
"Appreciate that," wheezed Melvis. "I surely do."
THEY FLEW approximately thirty miles due east, over the Union Pacific track. Corn and prairie predominated.
"What's in the big trunk?" K.C. asked Remo after they had lifted off. Melvis had insisted three freeloaders were as inconvenient as two, so what the hell.
"I don't know," Remo said truthfully.
"Then why are you guarding it like it contains the family jewels-pardon the indelicate expression."
Remo cocked a weary thumb in Chiun's direction. "Ask him."
"What's in the trunk?" Melvis repeated.
"Sloth."
"You got a sloth in there?"
"That is not the sloth I speak of." Chiun eyed Remo, who watched the flat green ground surging beneath them.
"The only sloth I know of climbs trees and eats grubs."
"There is another species of sloth. It is a cousin to shame."
"That is definitely a different critter."
"Why is she coming along?" Remo asked Melvis.