"No—that is, I'm not positive; but I think one of 'm was a chap that is called Skinny Joe, a hard pet, who used to work in a saloon on Clark street."
"Indeed."
"Yes. It might be well to keep your eye out in that quarter."
"It might," admitted Dyke Darrel. "This is all you know regarding the midnight tragedy?"
"Oh, no; I can give you more particulars."
"Let's have them, then."
"But see here, how am I to know that you are a detective? I might get sold, you know," replied Mr. Wilks in a suspicious tone.
Dyke Darrel lifted the lapel of his coat, exposing a silver star.
"All right," returned Mr. Wilks, with a nod. "I'm of the opinion that Skinny Joe's about the customer you need to look after, captain. I'll go down with you to the fellow's old haunts, and we'll see what we can find."
Mr. Wilks seemed tremendously interested. Dyke Darrel was naturally suspicious, and he was not ready to swallow everything his companion said as law and gospel. Of course the large reward was a stimulant for men to be on the lookout for the midnight train robbers; and Mr. Wilks' interest must be attributable to this.