"I'm sure it was HER," said the old man who had first spoken. "A queer, wrinkled old woman, too, she was." "Did she say anything?" "Not a word." Mr. Ruggles passed into the next car, hoping to find Nell and the strange old woman there. He went the whole length of the swift-moving train, only to learn that his fair captive had been spirited away completely. At first rage consumed the man's senses, and he scarcely realized the dangers of his position. "I will not give up to such a sneak game," he muttered at length. "Madge Scarlet has shadowed me for this very purpose, it seems. Can it be possible that the friends of Nell Darrel have employed this hag to rob me of my prize? I will not believe it, for it isn't in the nature of Madge Scarlet to do a good action, not even for pay. No; it is to gratify her own petty scheme of vengeance that she has stolen a march on me; but she will not succeed. I will get on her track and wrest the girl from her hands." A minute later Professor Ruggles stood before the conductor. "When does the next train pass going west?" "It passes Galien in an hour." "Galien? Do you stop there?" "Yes." "Soon?" "Within five minutes." When the train slowed in at the station, Professor Ruggles left the car and entered the depot. Here he would have to wait nearly an hour before the New York train west would pass. It was a tedious wait; but he could do no better. With his hand satchel clutched tightly he paced up and down like a ghost of the night. He was glad indeed when the train came at length thundering up to the station, He had purchased a ticket for the station from which the abductress had boarded the cars and stolen Nell. With feverish blood the scheming villain sat by the window and watched the fleeting landscape by the light of the moon. The score of miles that intervened between the station seemed like a hundred to the anxious man who sat and glared at the trees and hills without. He was in extreme doubt as to his ability to cope with the cunning hag who had ventured so many miles to thwart him, and indulge her own morbid desire for revenge. At length the whistle sounded announcing the station. As the train bolted beside another train, bound in the opposite direction, Ruggles glanced into the car not ten feet distant, to make a startling discovery. He looked squarely into the face of Dyke Darrel, the railroad detective! Turning his head, the Professor sat quiet. The other train was moving, and Ruggles felt paralyzed at his discovery. Perhaps the detective had not noticed him. He could not understand how the detective had escaped death from the beating he had received in the basement of that building of sin on Clark street. His own train was moving now, and if he would get off he must be quick about it. Springing from his seat, he hastened down the aisle. At the open door he met Dyke Darrel face to face! The recognition was mutual.