“One is certainly a would-be murderer, and Snell is plainly in great fear of him. “I should think he would be. “I wonder if they will actually occupy the same room on the train?” They did. Snell, as the stranger had said, had engaged a stateroom, and both went into it immediately on going aboard the train. Patsy secured a berth in the same car, and, as he turned in he wondered whether one man or two would come out of that stateroom in the morning. It seemed to him most likely that the stranger would make an attempt to murder Snell during the night. “If it were my business to take care of Snell,” thought the detective, “I’d invent some way to do it; but it isn’t, and I’ll just wait and see what happens.” With that thought he went to sleep. In the morning he touched the button beside his berth before getting up. When the porter came he asked: “Is there a dining car on the train, Charley?” “Yessah,” replied the porter. “Breakfast will be ready in twenty minutes, sah.” “All right; then I’ll get up.” “Sumfin else yo’ want, sah?” “Yes. Put your head in here, Charley?” The porter put his head in between the curtains. “Have the gentlemen in the stateroom turned out yet?” asked Patsy. “No, sah; ain’t seed nuffin’ of ’em.” “Were they quiet all night?” “Yassah. Leastwise, I didn’t hear nuffin.” “All right.” “Friends of yours, sah?” “Not exactly, but I’m curious about them, that’s all. You needn’t say I asked any questions.” “No, sah—thank yo’ berry much, sah. Won’t say a word.” The porter had received handsome pay for his silence, and Patsy knew he could be trusted. He dressed and went forward to the dining car. As he passed Snell’s stateroom, he listened for the sound of voices, but none came. The detective wondered if there was one man in that room who couldn’t speak. Having plenty of time to kill, he spent an hour at the breakfast table. Before he was ready to go, in came Snell and the stranger. They sat at the same table and appeared to be in good spirits—at least, the stranger was. Snell looked rather haggard, but he talked with his companion, and without any apparent fear of him. “Strange!” thought Patsy; “but I’m glad my man is still alive. I want to find out what it all means.” He went to the smoker, and after he had been there half an hour or so, Snell and the stranger came in also. They did not talk much as they smoked their cigars, but no one would have guessed that one had tried to kill the other less than twelve hours before. So it was all the way to Chicago. The two men were together all the time, and there was hardly a minute that the detective did not have them in view. It was early morning when the train arrived in Chicago. Snell and his companion got into a cab, and Patsy heard them tell the driver to go to the Northwestern station. Patsy arrived at the station at the same moment they did. They breakfasted in the station restaurant, and after a time they went to the ticket window.