"Yes, that's his name. He is a brakeman on the road."
"Oh, yes, Bob's here. He's eating his breakfast now. Just sit down, he'll be here directly."
After waiting a few minutes, a tall, broad-shouldered young man, of rather good-natured and intelligent appearance, entered the room, and taking a cap from one of the hooks upon the wall, placed it upon his head.
It did not require the rather officious indication of the young clerk to induce the detective to recognize the new-comer as the man whom he was most desirous of seeing; his appearance tallied precisely with the description of him which he had previously obtained.
Stepping quietly up to the young man, the detective said, carelessly:
"Your name is Bob King, I believe?"
Somewhat confused by the abrupt salutation, the young fellow replied, rather awkwardly:
"Yes, that's my name; but you've got the brakes on me, for I don't remember that I ever saw you before."
"Perhaps not," answered Manning, "but I want to have a little private conversation with you for a few minutes. Can we go somewhere where we will not be interrupted?"
"Why, yes," responded the other, still evidently ill at ease, "come in here." And turning about, he led the way through a door across the hall, and entered a small and plainly furnished sitting-room.