"When shall I see you again, Dyke?" questioned Mr. Elliston.
"I am not sure. I shall be in Woodburg next week."
"I will see you there, then."
"Very well."
The detective left the train, and stood alone on the platform of the
little station. There were not a dozen houses in sight, and it was not
often that the express halted at this place. Here the daring deed of
robbers had been discovered. It could not be far from here that the
outlaws left the express car, doubtless springing off and escaping in
the darkness as the train slowed up to the station.
Not a soul in sight.
Dyke Darrel entered the depot, to see a man standing at the window who
had been watching the moving train as it rushed away on its northern
course.
"No public house here, sir," said the man, who proved to be the
railway agent, in answer to an inquiry from the detective.
"Then I must find some one who will keep me for a short time,"
returned Dyke Darrel. "I am looking for a location in which to open a
gun-shop."
"Guns would sell here, I reckon," said Mr. Bragg. "I guess maybe I can
accommodate you with a stopping-place for a day or two."
"Thanks. I will pay you well."
"I'm not a shark," answered the agent.
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