"It might be fatal to attract the attention of any one, or to let any one see you leave the train. Of course, this new acquaintance of yours is only a countryman, but it is not possible to foresee what disaster the least mistake or want of caution might originate. These cars are on the English system, divided into compartments. You must go into the station, stand near the ticket office until your new acquaintance comes, then observe if he buys a first-class; if so, you take a second, and vice versa. Pay no attention to him, and let him see you get into your compartment, but keep an eye on his movements. In case he comes to get in where you are, despite the different class of the tickets, tell him the compartment is engaged. Everything depends on how you carry yourself through the next twenty minutes. A single false step, a word too little or too much, will surely prove fatal to all, for if anything happens to you, we remain in Brazil."
In accordance with our pre-arranged plan, I stopped the carriage opposite the station, it being still dark. Mac alighted, went straight inside, and in a few minutes saw his "passenger" come puffing in, nearly out of breath. Unquestionably supposing Mac's baggage to be already on the train, he purchased a ticket, and after seeing his intended victim enter a compartment, got into another himself just as the train began to move. This was the vital moment for which Mac had been waiting, and, quickly opening the door on the opposite side, he stepped off on that side, hastily crossed to the other platform of the dimly lighted station, and made his way unnoticed into the street. While this was passing, I sat in the carriage, and it was not many minutes before I had the satisfaction of seeing Mac coming back. But for the benefit of the driver we then had a dialogue somewhat as follows:
"It is too bad. Our friends have not arrived. What shall we do?"
"Well, I suppose we must go back to the hotel and wait for the afternoon train," I answered.
"But I have paid my bill there," said Mac, "and do not care to go back."
"Then," I replied, "meet me at the station, and I will look after the luggage."
In case they recovered the trail, the information obtained from the driver would cause confusion and delay sufficient, I hoped, to enable us to get Mac out of Rio.
I then told the coachman to drive me into the city. It was not yet daylight, but after a while I saw a sort of eating house and tavern combined, and had the carriage halted there. Alighting, I entered and said to the person in charge that I did not wish to disturb my friends at so early an hour, and would pay him for taking care of my baggage, as I wished to discharge the carriage. The offer was, of course, accepted, the baggage housed and the carriage dismissed. In the mean time Mac was waiting for us in an appointed place not far away, where I joined him, and we went to the obscure tavern where the room had been engaged. George was awaiting us.
So far our plan was successful. Mac was safely hidden away, while his clever friend was speeding miles away on a wild goose chase. There was only one train a day each way, and we knew the detective could not get back to Rio until late. We felt certain that when he found Mac was not on the train he would think his intended victim had slipped off at some way station—possibly with a view of making his escape into the interior; even if he sent a dispatch to the bank—an unlikely thing for a Brazilian to do—it would doubtless be to the effect that his quarry had left Rio on the early train that morning with him.