"I am a detective, and know my business without receiving instructions from the police of a one-horse town," retorted Dyke Darrel in anger. "I am willing, however, to visit your chief, who will confirm my words."
"We had orders from him to arrest you."
"Very good. I demand that you take me before him."
After a short consultation the two officers concluded to gratify their prisoner, and, without attempting to handcuff him, they conducted him from the depot to the police station.
As luck would have it, the chief was in, and at once recognized and greeted Dyke Darrel. Explanations soon followed.
"You must not blame my men," said the chief, "for word was sent from an interior town in Illinois stating that a notorious crook was on the train, and would stop at Burlington. A description was given that tallied with yours, and so the mistake was made."
"Do you know who sent the dispatch?"
"A sheriff, I think."
"Just accommodate me with the name of the town, please."
Dyke Darrel was deeply excited at this last attempt to deprive him of his liberty.