I guessed he had some weapon concealed there, so I exclaimed: ‘That will not do!—Here! There is just one chance; put on this coat and cap.’ They were those left by my mate.—‘Quick!’ I cried; ‘I can hear them coming!—Now, sit down, and write anything in this book. Don’t seem to shrink from’—— A sharp rap at the door interrupted me. Before I could answer it, the door was thrown open, and I saw three men—strangers—before me. Another was standing at some distance, so that I could not see him distinctly. ‘Your name is Waltress,’ said the foremost sharply, and with a quick glance round the interior of the hut. ‘We are in pursuit of a criminal, and have traced him to this spot.—Have you seen any stranger here?’ ‘I have not been here all the evening,’ I said; ‘but no one has been here except—— Bill!’ I exclaimed to my supposed mate, ‘have you seen any fellows hanging about here?’ ‘Bill’ turned half round; but the peak of his cap being drawn down over his face, and the collar of his coat being turned up, as was natural on such a night, he was effectually disguised, especially as his appearance was, as I have described, so completely changed. He spoke with his pen in his mouth, and said: ‘About three hours ago there was a fellow at the gates that I didn’t like the look of.’ ‘We have seen our man, or he has been seen, since then,’ returned the speaker. Then addressing those behind, he said: ‘He may be hiding in those trucks,’ pointing to some on the other side of the line. At that moment a man was really heard to leap from one of the trucks and to hurry along the road. I knew who it was, and that it was his duty to see to certain arrangements, before the train came through which would pick them up. The man who was standing apart also heard the noise, and called to the others; then, without another word, they all hurried to where the trucks were standing. ‘A near chance that,’ I said, turning to the captain, but stopped in my speech, from the shock his changed appearance gave me. He was deathly pale. I began to feel more uneasy in my new undertaking than I had hitherto been, especially when I heard another step approaching and saw that some one bearing a light was coming to the hut. I thought it was a second search, and felt that we could scarcely expect to repeat our success. However, it was only Charley Pearse, the night-goods foreman, who had come down to send the trucks off, and had crossed over to my box to tell me of a ‘rum go’ he had had with some queer-looking strangers, who had insisted on searching the trucks. ‘If they had been civil,’ said Charley, with a knowing wink and nod, evidently directed at my companion, ‘I might have told them something good; but they were preciously uncivil, talking to me as if I was a nigger or a convict, so I sent them to the _Pike and Perch_’—this was a beer-house some two miles off—‘and so, you know, if any gent’s in trouble and wants to clear out, now’s the time.’