"I mean to do so," assured Dyke Darrel. "I shall not leave the trail until the perpetrators of that crime are secured and punished. In that day you may wish that you had not been so obstinate." "I have told all I know." "I hope you have!" "You believe I am lying, Dyke Darrel?" "It doesn't matter what I believe," retorted the detective. "Of course, you are not of the sort who believe in telling facts when a falsehood will serve you better. I did not expect anything different." Arrived at the Southwestern metropolis, Dyke Darrel turned his prisoner over to the proper officers, warning them of the dangerous nature of young Skidway, and then he turned his thoughts and feet in another channel. Dyke Darrel went to the office of the railroad company on whose road the midnight crime had been committed, and consulted with one of the officers in regard to the same. "It is a terrible affair," said Mr. Holden, the officer in question. "I telegraphed our folks in Chicago to employ detectives in that city, and expect to have the best talent in the country look into this." "Of course. Any clew discovered?" "None." "I believe the villains covered their tracks well," said Dyke Darrel. "The express messenger who was murdered was a personal friend." "Your friend?" "Yes; one I had known for years, which explains my interest in the case. I suppose I have your good wishes in hunting down the outlaws?" "Well, of course; but it is a task that may tax the coolness and ingenuity of skilled detectives. Amateurs have no place on this case, I assure you." "Admitted," returned the young detective, with a smile. "You have heard of Dyke Darrel?" "I should think I had. He is the best detective in the West, now that Pinkerton is gone; he was a trusted friend of Allan Pinkerton, too." "He was." "I've telegraphed for our people to see about employing Dyke Darrel. I shan't be content without." Again a smile swept the face of the young detective. "It seems that you never met Dyke Darrel, Mr. Holden." "Never; but---" "You see him now at any rate." "What?" "_I_ am Dyke Darrel." "YOU?" "The same." "Dyke Darrel, the railroad detective; the fellow who captured the brute Crogan, and broke up the counterfeiters' nest near Iron Mountain; the man who has sent more criminals over the road than any other detective in the wide West--YOU?" "The same, at your service," and Darrel bowed and smiled again. "Well, I AM astonished." Nevertheless the incredulous railway official seemed pleased at the last, and shook the young detective warmly by the hand. "I am glad to meet you, Mr. Darrel, and hope we can induce you to take up this case. A great many suspects have been reported, but I take stock in none of them. I trust the whole affair (the management of it, I mean) to you. Will you go into it, Mr. Darrel?" "Certainly."