"Of course not," replied Mr. Griswold, as he clipped off a piece of the cloth, little dreaming of the use to which the detective would put it.
Declining to make a selection until he had sought the advice of an imaginary friend, and stating that he would probably call again in the evening, Manning took his leave of the little tailor. The detective then repaired to the railroad ticket office, where he had a friend of long standing, from whom he hoped to derive some material information.
At the railroad station he found his friend on duty, and after the usual friendly salutations, he requested a few moments' private conversation. Being admitted to an inner office, Manning at once displayed the photograph of Duncan, and asked:
"Harry, have you seen that face about here, say within about two weeks?"
Taking the picture, and regarding it intently for a moment, he said:
"Why, yes—that's Duncan from Des Moines. I know him very well. He has been here often."
"Well, has he been here within two weeks?"
"Yes, he was here about two weeks ago on a spree, and he bought a ticket for St. Paul."
"Are you quite sure about that?"
"Perfectly sure," answered the ticket agent. "I remember it distinctly, and what impressed it the more forcibly upon my mind is the fact that he wanted to know if I could give him a ticket on the Northern Pacific road from here, and I told him he would have to go to St. Paul for that."