He was interrupted by the sudden, rapid ticking of the telegraph instrument. It proved to be a dispatch for the engineer of the coming train, and Denny scarce had transcribed it when the whistle of the locomotive sounded in the near distance. Half a minute later the glare of its headlight appeared amid the scattered lights of the town, from which it emerged at high speed and immediately began slowing down to make the junction. “Come on!” Denny cried, leading the way. “She stops only five minutes.” Nick followed him from the chamber and down the long flight of stairs from the tower. He could feel the structure trembling under the vibrations caused by the heavy train, which then was approaching the long platform and coming to a stop, amid the clanging of the locomotive bell, the furious hissing of steam, and the grinding of the brakes. Only a solitary man was pacing the platform, carrying a traveler’s grip and a light overcoat. Nick saw at a glance that he was a commercial drummer and not worthy of suspicion. Several men stepped from the train, obviously to break the monotony of a night journey, but neither the looks or actions of any appeared suspicious. Nick quickly noted the make-up of the train, a baggage car, the express car, a smoker, an ordinary passenger car, and two Pullman sleepers in the rear. He knew that Chick was on the train, but he did not know just where, nor particularly care at that moment. Denny ran to the locomotive and gave the engineer the dispatch, then hurriedly rejoined Nick and led the way to the express car. The sliding side door was thrown open from within while they approached, and Denny quickly greeted the man who appeared in the brightly lighted car. “Hello, Cady, old chap!” he exclaimed. “You’re right on time to-night, all right. Here’s Jack Dakin, track hand, who will ride with you to Shelby. He missed the last local. You don’t know him, I reckon, but he’s all right.” “Ride with me?” questioned Cady, sharply regarding both. He was a well-built man of middle age, of sandy complexion, and wearing a full beard. He was clad in blouse and overalls, with a woolen cap pulled over his brow. Nick did not wait for him to make any objections. He grasped the edge of the door and drew himself up from the platform, saying quietly, while he entered the car: “It’s all right, Cady. I’ve got a letter to you from President Burdick. Don’t oppose me. Pretend this is nothing unusual.” Cady seemed to grasp the situation. A fiery gleam appeared for a moment in the depths of his gray eyes, but he drew back to make room for Nick, replying, in quick whispers: “What’s up? There’s nothing wrong, is there?” “Wait until we leave here. Don’t question,” cautioned Nick. “It’s all right, Cady,” Denny quickly assured him, leaning in through the open door. “Good enough, then,” Cady nodded. “I’ll take your word for it, Tom.”