"It's half past nine. The Rocky Mountain limited leaves at ten o'clock, and stops at Great River at three in the morning. Poindexter's is about an hour from the station." "Let's make a still hunt of it," said Warry. "The detectives are busy on what may be real clues and this is only a guess." They rose. "I can't imagine that fellow Snyder doing anything so dashing as carrying off a millionaire's son. He didn't look to me as if he had the nerve." "It's only a chance, but it's worth trying." In the lower hall they met Wheaton who was pacing up and down. "Is there any news?" he asked, with a show of eagerness. "No. We lost our trail at Rollins," said Raridan. "Have you heard anything?" "Nothing so far," Wheaton replied. He uttered the "so far" bravely, as if he really might be working on clues of his own. His speculations of one moment were abandoned the next. He was building and destroying and rebuilding theories and plans of action. He was strong and weak in the same breath. He envied Raridan and Saxton their air of determined activity. He resolved to join them, to steady himself by them. He was struggling between two inclinations: one to show his last threatening note from Snyder, which was buttoned in his pocket, and boldly confess that the blow at Porter was also an indirect blow at himself; and on the other hand he held to a cowardly hope that the boy would yet be recovered without his name appearing in the matter. He was aware that all his hopes for the future hung in the balance. He was sure that every one would soon know of his connection with the kidnapping; and yet he still tried to convince himself that he was wholly guiltless. He was afraid of John Saxton; Saxton, he felt, probably knew the part he had played in the street railway matter. It seemed to him that Saxton must have told others; probably Saxton had Evelyn's certificate put away for use when William Porter should be restored to health; but on second thought he was not sure of this. Saxton might not know after all! This went through his mind as John and Warry stood talking to him. "Wheaton," said Saxton, "do you remember that fellow Snyder who was in charge of the Poindexter place when I came here?" "What--oh yes!" His hand rose quickly to his carefully tied four-in-hand and he fingered it nervously. "You may not remember it, but he had only one eye." "Yes, that's so," said Wheaton, as if recalling the fact with difficulty. "And Mrs. Whipple says there was something wrong about one of the eyes of the man who accosted her and Grant at Mr. Porter's gate. What became of that fellow after he left the ranch--have you any idea?" Raridan had walked away to talk to a group of men in the reading room, leaving Saxton and Wheaton alone. "He went West the last I knew of him," Wheaton answered, steadily.