It proved to be Martin Skidway, who lay on a barn floor with his head in his mother's lap, gasping his life away, an ugly wound in his side. He had accidentally shot himself and was rapidly sinking. A fugitive in hiding for weeks, his life had been an intolerable one. Now that he was dying, he made a full confession, admitting his own hand in the awful railroad crime, and implicating two others, Elliston and Nick Brower. Sam Swart had been one of them, but he was known to be dead. "Without HIS urging I would never have stained my hands; in fact, it was Elliston who struck the blow that killed the express messenger." Without this confession, there was evidence enough to convict the New Yorker; with it, both Brower and the principal were found guilty of murder in the first degree and sentenced to the gallows. Nick Brower was the only one of the four who expiated his crime on the gallows. Harper Elliston died in prison by his own hand. He left a note admitting the express crime, and also confessing to the murder of Captain Osborne and the ruin of his daughter Sibyl. His was a fitting end to a career of unparalleled crime. * * * * * We now draw a veil over the scene. Harry Bernard and Nell Darrel were, soon after the arrest and death of Elliston, happily married. Dyke Darrel considers the events leading up to the capture and punishment of those engaged in the crime of the midnight express as among the most thrilling and wonderful of his detective experience. To Harry Bernard and Paul Ender he gives a large share of the credit, and with them shared the reward. Bernard has of late worked in conjunction with Dyke Darrel on other cases, and is fast winning a reputation second only to that of the great railroad detective himself. THE END. WON BY CRIME CHAPTER I A young girl, about eighteen, with a slender, elegant form, beautiful straight features, and eyes of softest darkness, sitting before a large table covered with maps and drawings, which she was trying vainly to study. "It is no use!" she cried, at last, pushing back the mass of thick black hair falling over her white brow; "I shall never be able to get India by heart, unless I can see the places. I wish papa would let us go reconnoitering amongst the ruined temples and other mysterious buildings; it is so annoying staying here day after day, never seeing anything outside the palace." "My dear Lianor," said her companion, a young man scarcely older than herself, and wonderfully like her, "what new idea, have you got now?" "An idea of seeing more of the curious places I have read so much about. Fancy living a lifetime in a country and never going beyond one town! If I do not get some excitement, I shall die of ennui, so I warn you." "I quite agree with you, and if uncle would only let us, it would be delightful, seeking out the temples so long deserted. But you know he would not," shrugging his shoulders.