“Hanson has been staying at the Goeberlin House for the past two days. This morning he hired a carriage from its stables, saying that he was going some miles in the country to bring a little ward who had been left to his guardianship, and take her with him to the North. He was gone about two hours, and returned to the house about an hour and a half ago, bringing the child with him. The child was not taken out of the carriage. She lay very still on the cushions, and seemed to be asleep. Mr. Hanson only stopped long enough to pay his bill and get his valise, and then was driven rapidly off to the railway depot to catch the 1:30 P.M. train for the East.” Such was the story told by the hotel clerk, and repeated by Mr. Merritt. “To ‘make assurance doubly sure,’ let us drive at once to the depot and make inquiries there,” said Miss Fronde. The lawyer re-entered the carriage, took his seat, and gave the order. The horses’ heads were turned, and a few minutes’ fast driving brought them to the depot. As soon as the carriage was drawn up Mr. Merritt got out and went to the ticket window to ask questions, while his companions waited inside the vehicle in anxious suspense. In a very few minutes the lawyer returned, and standing in his former position before the carriage door, made his second report, from the ticket clerk and the railway porter: “A gentleman answering the description of Hanson had come in a close carriage just before the 1:30 P.M. train for Baltimore was due. He had taken tickets and engaged a compartment for himself and a little child, who seemed to be sick or sleeping, for he carried her very carefully and tenderly in his arms.” That was all the employes of the depot could tell. “Now, you see, he must have chloroformed, or in some other manner drugged and stupefied that unfortunate child, in order to get off with her. He is certainly a most prominent candidate for an election, by a jury of his countrymen, to the penitentiary,” said Mr. Merritt. Roma was very pale and silent. The old parson looked from the lawyer to the lady, but said nothing. “Well, he has got off with the child. But we can telegraph—we can telegraph to the police at Baltimore to arrest him at the depot. And that will be likely to end his career in the State prison. How a man of his intelligence could so recklessly put himself in the power of the law is an act of madness I cannot understand. But I will telegraph at once,” concluded the lawyer, turning from the carriage door to re-enter the depot. “No,” said Roma, speaking for the first time. “Do not telegraph. He has not put himself in the power of the law. I only wished to ascertain whether Hanson was the man who carried off the child. Now I have done so, I see that I cannot interfere. Let us go home.”