Time was flying. The midnight express would soon leave the city.
"I cannot remain with you longer," said Dyke Darrel, at length. "I
shall leave the case at this end of the route in your hands, Harry,
and if at any time you wish to communicate with me, address me at
Woodburg."
"All right. What shall we do with this?"
Harry indicated the coat that still lay on the bed.
"You may retain that, but I will keep the handkerchief. Both may be of
use in the future."
Soon after the two men separated.
Dyke Darrel went at once to the depot, and soon after nine that
evening he was speeding northward at the rate of forty miles an hour.
At the first stop outside of the city three passengers boarded the
train. One was a short, thick-set man, with beard and hair of a dark
color; the others were women. The man entered the smoking car and
thrust himself into an unoccupied seat, and glanced keenly about him.
The man had no ticket, but paid the conductor to a station a hundred
miles from the city.
While sitting with his back to the aisle, a touch on the shoulder
roused him.
"Eh, it's you, Ruggles?"
"Ahem--seat occupied?"
"No."
The man we have met on a previous occasion, Professor Darlington
Ruggles, settled himself beside the late comer.
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