"Yes, sir. But I was in for time, you see."
"And you did not make it even with that advantage?"
"No, sir."
The second expert had the same story to tell, with a few variations. He had made one of his runs in five minutes less than the other had done, but it was by a great exertion that left him completely exhausted when he arrived at the station. It was during his cross-examination that Hickory at last came in.
Horace Byrd, who had been growing very impatient during the last few minutes, happened to be looking at the door when it opened to admit this late comer. So was Mr. Orcutt. But Byrd did not notice this, or Hickory either. If they had, perhaps Hickory would have been more careful to hide his feelings. As it was, he no sooner met his colleague's eye than he gave a quick, despondent shake of the head in intimation that he had failed.
Mr. Byrd, who had anticipated a different result, was greatly disappointed. His countenance fell and he cast a glance of compassion at Miss Dare, now flushing with a secret but slowly growing hope. The defence, then, was good, and she ran the risk of being interrogated again. It was a prospect from which Mr. Byrd recoiled.
As soon as Hickory got the chance, he made his way to the side of Byrd.
"No go," was his low but expressive salutation. "One hundred and five minutes is the shortest time in which I can get over the ground, and that by a deuced hard scramble of it too."
"But that's five minutes' gain on the experts," Byrd whispered.
"Is it? Hope I could gain something on them, but what's five minutes' gain in an affair like this? Fifteen is what's wanted."