Thomas Ardmore, coatless and hatless, sat on the caboose steps writing messages on a broad pad, while a telegraph instrument clicked busily within. One of his men had qualified as operator and a pile of messages at his elbow testified to Ardmore's industry. Ardmore clutched in his left hand a message recently caught from the wire which he re-read from time to time with increasing satisfaction. It had been sent from Ardsley and ran: I shall ride to-night on the road that leads south beyond the red bungalow, and on the bridle-path that climbs the ridge on the west, called Sunset Trail. A certain English gentleman will accompany me. It will be perfectly agreeable to me to come back alone. G. D. Ardmore was still writing when Cooke stood beneath him under the caboose platform. "I beg your pardon, Mr. Ardmore, but this is our first prisoner." Ardmore signed a despatch and then looked up and took the pipe from his mouth. Collins lifted his hat politely. "Ah, Mr. Ardmore, you see I have taken advantage of your exceedingly kind invitation to look you up in North Carolina." "He was looking for you very hard when I found him, Mr. Ardmore," interposed Cooke. "Your appearance delights me," said Ardmore, extending his hand to the reporter. "It was nice of you to walk out here to find me. Wouldn't they put you up at the house?" "Well, the fact is I didn't stop there. My paper sent me in this general direction on business, but I had every honorable intention of making you that visit after I finished my assignment. But Cookie here says I'm arrested." "He's a dangerous character and can't be allowed to run loose in these parts. I'm going to tie him up," said Cooke. "May I ask you, Mr. Collins, just what you are doing here?" inquired Ardmore. "You may, and I'll bet a boiled goose that Cooke and I are on the same job." "What are you looking for?" demanded Ardmore's chief of staff. "It's a big story if I get it, and I have every intention of getting it," said Collins guardedly. "Out with it!" commanded Ardmore. "The fact is, then, that I'm looking for a person of importance." "Go right on, please." "And that person is the governor of North Carolina, who is mysteriously absent from Raleigh. He attended the Cotton Planters' Convention in New Orleans. He got as far as Atlanta on his way home and then disappeared. I need not say to gentlemen of your intelligence that a lost governor is ripe fruit in my business, and I have reason to believe that for some purpose of his own the governor of North Carolina is hiding in this very neighborhood." Cooke glanced at Ardmore for instructions, but the master of Ardsley preferred to keep the matter in his own hands.