Richard De Jarnette read the letter, but his face did not soften. When he went from the house a few moments later it was to call a cab and go straight to the Detective Bureau. Mammy Cely stood looking after him as he went away. "I wonder ef what I said about a white woman's chance to git off could a put that notion in Miss Margaret's head," she thought with some perturbation. Then defiantly, "Well, I don't keer ef it did! She got a heap mo' right to that chile than Marse Richard has. She done put a right smart of herself in him. An' Marse Richard ain't nothin' but his gyarjeen." * * * * * While the enginery for tracking her was thus being set in motion in Washington, Margaret, with her child in her arms, was speeding over the country hundreds of miles away, her face set toward the West. Every mile gave her an added sense of security. She was confident that Richard knew nothing of Mrs. Pennybacker's existence even, and was sure, too, that she had been able to get away without leaving a clue behind her at the station. It had been by a happy chance--was it chance?--that she had been able to cover her tracks there. She had gone directly to the lower waiting-room, hoping that she might find some way to get her ticket without presenting herself before the ticket agent. As she sat pondering this, a negro woman came in and sat down beside her. A sudden thought struck Margaret. "Are you going on this next train?" she asked. Yes, the woman said, she had been down in Virginia, and was going home. No'm, she didn't live in Washington. She lived in Maryland. She had been gone ten days--had a round-trip ticket. Margaret took out some bills. "Would you mind getting my ticket for me--to Cincinnati? I can't leave my baby." She held out a silver dollar, and the woman rose with alacrity. It was not often she could earn a dollar as easily as that. And so it came about that when the detective in Mr. De Jarnette's employ questioned the agent about tickets sold the night before, that official could remember nothing bearing upon the case. No woman with a baby had presented herself at the window that evening, he felt quite sure. Margaret had decided that it would be safer to get a ticket to Cincinnati, another to St. Louis, and still another to Callaway than to risk a through ticket to her destination. * * * * *