Dyke Darrel had recognized in the young man calling himself Watson Wilks an old offender, who had made his escape from the Missouri State prison three months before, and he at once surmised that the young counterfeiter, who was a hard case, might have had a hand in the murder and robbery of the express messenger. Reasoning thus, the detective decided upon promptly arresting the fellow before proceeding to search further. It would be safer to have Skidway in prison than at large in any event.
More than one pair of eyes had watched the departure of Dyke Darrel and his prisoner from Chicago, and a little later a bearded man, with deep-set, twinkling eyes, and the general look of a hard pet, thrust his head into Madge Scarlet's little room, and said:
"It are all up with the kid, Mrs. Scarlet."
"What's that you say?"
The woman came to her feet and confronted the new-comer with an interested look.
"It's all up with the kid."
"Come in, Nick Brower, and let me have a look at your face. I want no lies now," cried the woman sharply; and the man drew himself into a little room, and stood regarding the female with a grin.
"Now let me hear what you've got to tell," demanded Mrs. Scarlet.
"It's ther kid—"
"Watson?"