There was no question now but that Joe Hamsa had been the man Bob had seen on the station platform, and the suspicious feeling Bob had held toward him from the beginning was strengthened. “I’m going forward to talk with Hamsa,” he told Tully, and he started ahead through the train as fast as he could walk. When he reached the diner the steward was turning down the lights. “I’m looking for a dark, heavy-set fellow who was wearing a black slicker,” said Bob. “He belongs in car 43.” “He left not more than two or three minutes ago,” replied the steward. “You should have met him, for he started back into the Pullmans.” Bob shook his head. “I just came from car 43 and he couldn’t have passed me.” “He might have turned around and gone up into the coaches,” said the steward. “I’ve been busy in the kitchen checking with the chef. You might look up ahead.” Bob went up into the day coaches and found the train conductor in the forward car. There were three day coaches on the train and the conductor was busy making out his reports. The young federal agent wasted no time in identifying himself. “There’s a man aboard I want to question,” he explained. “He was in the diner a few minutes ago and after finishing his meal started back for the Pullmans. He belongs in lower nine of car 43, but I’m sure he didn’t reach there. Get your brakeman out and search this train.” The small gold badge Bob displayed worked magic with the trainman and he summoned his brakeman. Bob gave them a brief description of Hamsa and they started back through the train. Every vestibule and every compartment was checked as the three worked methodically. They even looked into the kitchen on the dining car while the chef, a jolly negro, grinned at them. Back in car 43 they found the Pullman conductor standing watch beside Tully. “There’s no sign of Hamsa up ahead,” said Bob. “He didn’t come this way?” “No one’s been through this car,” replied the Pullman official firmly. Bob shook his head. “A man can’t vanish on a train and we’ve been running too fast for him to jump off. That would have been sheer suicide.” There were two more Pullmans and an observation lounge car behind car 43 and with the trainmen at his heels, Bob resumed the search. The next two cars were practically deserted and even in the observation lounge there were only five passengers in addition to the porter. They looked up with evident interest at the wholesale invasion of the trainmen and the grim intentness of the expression on Bob’s face. But the observation car failed to yield any sign of Hamsa and Bob stepped out on the rain-lashed platform. The Limited whistled sharply and seconds later rumbled through a small village. Then the train was rushing through the desolate night once more.