As for Allan, he caught up his lunch-basket and hurried out of the office, sorry that he had overheard the reprimand, but scarcely able to suppress his laughter at the aptness of it. For Nevins _had_ sent the message in just that slow, painful, dignified way. The accommodation stopped at the junction a few minutes later, and he swung aboard and settled into a seat. As the train started, some unaccountable impulse caused him to lean toward the window and look back at the little shanty. A man was just entering the door. Allan caught but a glimpse of him, and yet it seemed to him in that instant that he recognized the slouching figure of Dan Nolan. He sank back into his seat strangely troubled. Could it, indeed, be Nolan? Was he hanging about the place for some sinister purpose? Then he thrust the thought away. It could not have been Nolan. That worthy was by this time many miles away, on the road to Parkersburg, in search of a chance to make an honest living. When Allan stepped upon the platform of the Wadsworth station that evening, lunch-basket in hand, to take the train back to Byers, he was surprised to find Jack Welsh there awaiting him. "I didn't want t' go home early agin," Jack explained. "Mary 'd scent somethin' wrong and 'd git th' whole story out o' me. I don't want her t' be worrited about this business." "About what business?" asked Allan. "Oh, you know well enough. About Dan Nolan. He was here yistidday arternoon. Some o' th' boys seen him over t' James's saloon. Jem Tuttle says he seen him jump on second ninety-eight. I thought mebbe he might 'a' gone t' Byers." "He did," said Allan, quietly. "I saw him." "Ye did!" cried Jack. "I hope ye did fer him!" "Why, Jack," protested Allan, "the poor fellow's nearly dead with consumption. He's on his way to Parkersburg to look for work. He says he wants a chance to earn an honest living." "He told ye that, did he? An' was ye fool enough t' set there with your mouth open an' gulp it all down? I give ye credit fer more sense than that!" Allan reflected that Nolan certainly had lied about his unwillingness to steal a ride. And the figure he had seen that morning vanishing through the door of the Byers station recurred to him. "I _did_ believe it," he admitted finally. "He looked so sick and weak that I couldn't help but pity him." "Pity a toad!" said Jack, contemptuously. "Pity a snake! An' he's a thousand times wuss 'n any snake! He's jest waitin' fer a good chance t' bite!" "Well, I'll take care he doesn't get the chance," Allan assured him, and clambered aboard the train at the sharp "all aboard!" of the conductor. The more he thought over the circumstances of Nolan's appearance the night before, the more strongly was he inclined to believe that Jack's warning was not without reason. Nolan, perhaps, hoped to put him off his guard, to catch him napping, and then, in some underhanded way, to "get even."