"It is time we were on the move, Dyke, if we do not wish to miss the up train."
Dyke Darrel realized the force of his friend's words, and at once made preparations for departure. A little later the two were on board the morning express, speeding Northward. Dyke Darrel informed the conductor of the fate of Sam Swart, the outlaw, but did not intimate that the fellow was a member of the gang of train robbers, whose deed of blood had sent a shudder of horror and indignation throughout the nation.
When the train halted at Black Hollow, the station at which the terrible crime of a few days previous had been discovered, Dyke Darrel arose to go.
"When shall I see you again, Dyke?" questioned Mr. Elliston.
"I am not sure. I shall be in Woodburg next week."
"I will see you there, then."
"Very well."
The detective left the train, and stood alone on the platform of the little station. There were not a dozen houses in sight, and it was not often that the express halted at this place. Here the daring deed of robbers had been discovered. It could not be far from here that the outlaws left the express car, doubtless springing off and escaping in the darkness as the train slowed up to the station.
Not a soul in sight.
Dyke Darrel entered the depot, to see a man standing at the window who had been watching the moving train as it rushed away on its northern course.