"You don't know what stable it came from?" "No, sir; but it won't be a very hard job to find that out, for there are only three stables in town. Two of them are quite swell, but the other isn't, and I guess it was from that one that the coach came." "Well," said Mr. Wattles, springing to his feet, "we can get to work now. Come, my boy, this man shall take us to the stable at once, and we will see what they have to tell us there." "I don't want to drag you out, Mr. Wattles," said Al. "I can manage this business alone." "You can, eh?" said the manager, almost indignantly. "Well, maybe you could, but you won't get the chance. I am going to be right in it with you. Why, do you suppose I could sleep a wink to-night with this thing on my mind? I tell you, my boy, I thought more of that girl than you imagine, and if anything should happen to her----" Mr. Wattles choked and turned away his head. Al was surprised at this exhibition of emotion; he had not given his employer credit for the possession of so much feeling. He extended his hand. "Mr. Wattles," he said, "you are a good friend of mine and hers. Have it your own way, then. Come!" The manager pressed the boy's hand. "I don't like scenes--off the stage," he said, rather shamefacedly. "I dislike emotion, and am seldom betrayed into it. But--but---- Oh, well, we mustn't stand here talking all night. Lead the way to the stable you spoke of, my man." Ten minutes later the trio reached the stable. Here several delays awaited them. In the first place, the man who had been on duty in the office at the time the coach must have been hired, was asleep in a room above the stable, and when awakened refused to get up. After some persuasion, he agreed to do so, and came downstairs half dressed. He was also half asleep, and for several minutes could not recall the event about which his visitors were so anxious to be informed. It had been an unusually busy evening, and he was not sure whether the coach had come from that stable or not. At last, however, his memory having been stimulated by a five-dollar bill, which Mr. Wattles slipped into his hands, he remembered having rented the team to a man who answered Farley's description. "There was a lady with him, too," the man added. "What sort of a looking woman?" asked the manager. "Tall, dark, with very black eyes." "Miss Hollingsworth!" exclaimed Mr. Wattles. "Just the idea that occurred to me," added Al. "It was she, beyond the shadow of a doubt. She is in the scheme, too, then. That woman is capable of anything. At last we have a clew, and a strong one." CHAPTER XXV. ON THE TRACK. "But why," questioned Al, "should Miss Hollingsworth lend herself to such a scheme?"