... Grubbs carried Putney's luggage across the platform with dogged stride, passing Archie without a sign of recognition. He was followed by a tall man in a gray suit whose left arm was supported by a sling. Grubbs took hasty leave and the two travelers were left alone. "A warm night," Congdon remarked. Archie agreed to this, a trifle huskily. Congdon was not a bad looking fellow; his tone and manner, and his face, as revealed by the platform lights, encouraged the belief that he was a gentleman. "No red caps here, I suppose," said Congdon with a glance toward the station. "I fancy not," Archie replied. "I'll be glad to help you with your bags." "Oh, thank you! I have a game shoulder,--nearly well now, but it gives me a twinge occasionally. The train's on time, I believe." A blast from the locomotive and a humming of the rails woke the station to life. Archie grabbed the larger of Congdon's bags and led the way toward a voice bawling "Chicago sleeper." Congdon showed his ticket for lower three and climbed in; Archie remaining behind to negotiate for space. "Nothing left but uppers; you can take upper three." He found Congdon in the aisle disposing of his effects. "I've got the upper half of the section," said Archie, "But I promise not to be a nuisance to you." "That will be all right. I asked for a stateroom but you can never get what you want at these way stations. I'm going to smoke for a while." Archie threw his suitcase into the upper berth and clung to the curtains as the train started with a jerk. Here was a situation so utterly confounding that his spirit sank under the weight of it. He was not only traveling with a man he had shot; he was obliged to sleep over him. The propinquity made it possible to finish the business begun at Bailey Harbor and be done with him. He felt the perspiration trickling down his cheeks. The possibilities of the next few hours were hideous; what if he were unable to resist an impulse to give Putney Congdon his quietus; what if-- He staggered toward the smoking compartment and found it unoccupied save for Congdon, who had planted himself in a chair and was trying to light a cigarette. Archie sank upon the leather divan and struck and held a match for him. Congdon thanked him with a nod and remarked that the weather was favoring the farmers.