“Here, driver, put us at the Metropolitan Hotel, as soon as you can get there,” I commanded loudly, and followed this up by springing in the hack, Shinburn following. In an instant we were gone from the view of the sleuths, who of course made haste to follow us in another carriage. Thank the stars, we were too quick for them. Safe from immediate danger, we bought another bag, and, transferring the cash to it, left nothing in the old one except a few pieces of soiled linen. Then Shinburn was driven to the house of a friend in Euclid Avenue, where I left him with the treasure. We agreed to meet in about half an hour near the Cleveland, Pittsburg, and Rochester Railway depot. I went to the Metropolitan Hotel with the old bag, expecting I’d have to dodge the detectives. It seemed to me that I must go there in order to throw the hack driver off our game. However, it turned out as I hoped. The detectives had been there, but, failing to find us, at once realized we had played a game on them. Off they had gone to search other hotels. I engaged a room, and after taking my bag there and waiting a few minutes, I came down and told the clerk that I’d be back directly if any one called for me. It was about six A.M. “I’m going to a drug store not far away,” I said; “so be sure and tell my friend, if he calls, that I’ll return soon.” In a few minutes I was with Mark, and we were walking the C. P. and R. railroad ties until the second station was reached, where we awaited a train for Pittsburg. From there we had an uninterrupted journey to New York City. Of course my Police Headquarters friends soon got wind of our presence in town, and the usual “squaring” had to be made. I ascertained through them that the brace of sleuths who worried us at Angola and Cleveland were from Chicago, and that we would have been arrested had it not been for my commercial traveller dodge at the hotel. As I thought, they had wired to Chicago and Cleveland. Word came from the former place that no such drummers as described were in the employ of that house. This information was wired to the detectives at Cleveland, but too late to do us any harm. They found the hackman after a while and an interview with him told them a plain story. I understood that they felt about as ruffled as detectives must feel when big game has easily slipped through their fingers. They waited a long time for me to return from the drug store. Precious little but a collar was found in the satchel in my room. I laughed as I heard this story, and remarked that the boys were entitled to it and our discarded linen. “Mark,” I said, a few days later, having recalled the experiences we had had that night on the suspension bridge, “what made the cable get taut suddenly when you were about halfway on your plank-crawl?” “Oh, not much of anything,” he carelessly replied; “I just slipped a bit off the plank, but managed to hold on with my hands.”