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"I wanted to ask a few more questions," said Al, when they were outside.
"It wouldn't have done any good, my boy. The man told us all he knew about the case."
"I'm not so sure about that," demurred Al. "It seems rather queer to me that the driver should say nothing at all about such a peculiar case when he got back to the stable. According to the report of the stage hand he must have been posted about Farley's intention. He was really a party to the crime."
"Exactly; and that, of course, is just the reason he said nothing when he got back. But we can find out all that later on. Now, in my opinion, they--Farley, Hollingsworth and their victim--did really take a train. The question now is, what train?"
"Perhaps we can learn that at the railway station."
"Just what I was going to say. We will go to the station now and find out what trains leave at about the time that our friends would have been likely to reach the place."
"Rockton is not a very big place; there are not many trains a day."
"No; we shan't have any trouble in getting the information we want."
They found the station agent at the depot. He was a small, shriveled-up old man, and he glared suspiciously at them when they questioned him.
It took them some minutes to elicit the information that two trains left the station at nine-ten--about the hour that the carriage would have reached the place if it had gone there direct from the theater.
"And where do these two trains go?" asked Mr. Wattles.
"One goes to New York."
"And the other?"
"The other is the Boston express."
The manager then described the occupants of the carriage.
"I remember them; what of it?" said the station agent, crustily.
"What do you remember about them?"
"I remember that one of the ladies--the smaller one--seemed to be sick; at any rate, she had to be helped into the waiting room, where they all three stayed till the train arrived."
"Which of the two trains did they take?" cried Al.
"That I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"That's what I said. Do you suppose I keep tabs on everyone that comes into this place? Hardly."
"The New York train and the Boston train were here at the same time?"
"Yes."
"And they might have taken either?"
"They might."
"It is of a good deal of importance to us," said Al, "to learn which of those two trains they took."
"I can't help that," was the reply. "I'm no clairvoyant or fortune-teller."
"Isn't there some one about the station who could give us some information?"
"I don't think there is. The ticket-seller that they bought their tickets from might tell you something, but he's off now; there is another man in his place."
Al and Mr. Wattles stared at each other in perplexity.
Just then a hang-dog looking young fellow of about Al's age came slouching up.
"Here, Smith," called out the station agent, "these folks want some information; perhaps you can give it to 'em. Tell this chap what you want, gents, and maybe he can help you out."
Al explained the situation to the fellow, who said, readily enough: "Oh, yes; I remember that party."
"And which of the two trains did they take?"
"The one goin' to Boston."
"At last," exclaimed Mr. Wattles, "we have a little information. Now, then, my boy, what shall we do?"
"I shall follow them," replied Al, promptly.
"I wish I could go with you, but----"
"I know it would be impossible, Mr. Wattles; and probably I shall get along just as well alone."
"Maybe; but I'd like to be with you to witness the discomfiture of that arch-villain. Well, come along and get your ticket for Boston."
They were now walking in the direction of the ticket office.
"No," said Al, "I shall get a ticket for New York."
"Eh?"
The boy repeated the statement.
"But that fellow said they went to Boston; you must have misunderstood him."
"Oh, no, I didn't."
"He certainly said Boston."
"I know he did."
"And yet you are going to get a ticket for New York?"
"I am."
"I don't understand you."
"I'll explain. You didn't see the wink he gave the station agent when he told us the Boston train yarn, did you?"
"No."
"I did."
"You think he was lying to us?"
"I am sure of it. Farley probably paid him to put us off the track."
"Allston, you are a smart young fellow, but there is such a thing as being too smart. It may be that by going to New York you will lose them."
"I don't think so, Mr. Wattles; I am sure I am right. At any rate, I will take the chances."
Twenty minutes later Al was on his way to the metropolis.
CHAPTER XXVI.
"DR. FERGUSON."
As may be imagined, Al was very tired when he boarded the train for New York. It had been a hard day for him; yet, though physically fatigued, he was mentally alert.
Next him sat a clerical-looking man of about fifty, who presently remarked: "You got on at Rockton, young gentleman, did you not?"
Al, glad of the chance to speak to anyone, replied in the affirmative.
"I once had a charge there," went on the old man.
Al did not understand him.
"A charge?" he said, interrogatively.
"Yes; I am a minister of the Gospel."
"Indeed, sir?"
"Yes; I was pastor of the wealthiest church in Rockton. I left it to accept a call to New York."
As this statement possessed no especial interest to the boy, he made no reply.
There was a silence of some minutes' duration. Then the old gentleman broke out with: "May I offer you my card?"
At the same time he thrust a bit of pasteboard into Al's hand.
Upon it was inscribed the name, David Ferguson, D. D.
"I haven't a card with me, Dr. Ferguson," said the boy; "but my name is Allen Allston."
His traveling companion grasped his hand, and shook it with a remarkable exhibition of warmth, considering their short acquaintance.
"I am delighted to meet you, my young friend," he said. "Are you going far?"
"To New York, sir."
"Indeed! Then we shall be traveling companions for nearly three hours. How delightful!"
The prospect did not seem quite so delightful to Al; for, although he was glad to have some one to talk to, he began to fear that the Rev. Dr. Ferguson might not prove a wholly congenial companion.
"Are you a resident of Rockton?" went on the doctor.
"No, sir."
"Only a visitor there?"
"That's all."
"Rockton is a beautiful place."
Al acquiesced.
"And you don't live there?" continued Dr. Ferguson.
"I do not."
"You were visiting friends?" questioned the old man, whose b.u.mp of curiosity seemed to be well developed.
"I was not, sir; I was there on business."
"On business! Really? You are quite young to be actively engaged in business."
As this was a point upon which Al was a little sore, he made no reply. He was now quite willing to let the conversation end right there and then.
But Dr. Ferguson would not have it so.
"What was the nature of your business, if I may ask?" he resumed. "Pardon me, if I seem inquisitive."
"Well," said Al, with a sigh, "I don't know that I have any reason to be ashamed of my business."