“By gracious, I ought to have guessed it. Know you by name—well, I should say so! I’m mighty glad to meet you, too, Mr. Carter, and to be of any service. The local paper has, indeed, had a good deal to say about you and your mission here, as well as about your running down Karl Glidden’s murderer, Jim Reardon. Yes, by Jove, I ought to have guessed it.” Belden referred to recent events. The secret employment of Nick and his assistants to run down the perpetrators of a long series of crimes on the S. & O. Railway, his investigation of the murder of the night operator in one of the block-signal towers, resulting in the detection and death of the culprit, James Reardon, and the arrest of several of his associates suspected of being identified with the railway outlaws, though their guilt could not then be proved—all had occurred during the ten days that Nick Carter, Chick, and Patsy had been in Shelby, and all still were vividly fresh in the public mind. Nick smiled faintly at Belden’s enthusiastic remarks. “We still have much to accomplish here,” he replied, referring to himself and his assistants. “We got James Reardon, all right, and cleaned up that signal-tower mystery, which was what we first undertook to do. That did not clinch our suspicions against some of his associates, however, as I had hoped it would do. I refer to Jake Hanlon, Link Magee, and Dick Bryan, who have succeeded in wriggling from under the wheels of justice.” “But you expect to get them later?” “I expect to, yes,” said Nick. “But my identity and mission in Shelby now are generally known. That has put the railway bandits on their guard, which makes our work more difficult. But that’s neither here nor there, Mr. Belden, and I am wasting time. I wish to see a copy of that telegram you were discussing with Gordon and to ask you a few questions about it.” “Go ahead. Go as far as you like, Mr. Carter. I’ll never mention a word of it,” Belden earnestly assured him. “Good for you,” Nick replied. “About what time was the telegram received?” “Precisely ten o’clock.” “And Dalton called for it almost immediately?” “Within three or four minutes.” “That indicates that he was expecting it at just that time,” said Nick. “If I am right, and I think I am, he was acting under plans previously laid with the sender, Martin, or he was otherwise informed just when the message would be sent. Do you recall ever having received another dispatch from Philadelphia signed Martin?” “I do not,” said Belden, shaking his head. “What type of man is Dalton? Describe him.” “He is a well-built man, about forty years old, quite dark, and he wears a full beard. He was clad in a plaid business suit.” “The beard may have been a disguise.” “I think I would have detected it.” “You do not detect mine,” smiled Nick. “He may be equally skillful.”