Already Merry had learned that men who commit crimes betray themselves by certain peculiar movements. The thief unconsciously assumes the pose of a man picking a pocket, or taking what does not belong to him. The burglar crouches in his walk and steals along catlike. The guilty man often casts sly backward glances over his shoulder. It is rare for him to have the air and manner of innocence.
But this little man in gray, when, without doubt, he believed himself to be alone, was still the same care-free, careless old fellow.
He disappeared into one of the sheds at the end of the railroad. Frank had slipped yet a little nearer and watched from a place of hiding.
Five minutes passed, and then the man in gray and another man came out of that shed and took the path that led toward the old boarding house.
Frank uttered a low exclamation.
"Is it possible?" he muttered. "I believe I know that fellow with him."
He watched the companion of the man in gray. As they passed from view, he again muttered:
"I do know him! He is Dan Hicks, the cock-eyed man! That settles it! Mr. Caleb Cooler is just what I thought—he is one of the gang, and he came here to spy upon us!"
Frank ran lightly down the track, hidden by the bank beyond which the men had disappeared. He stooped as he ran. Ahead of him he saw the point where Browning had pried up the rails and sent a flat car, loaded with granite, into the water, thus saving Frank's life. He shuddered as he thought of his sensations during those terrible moments of peril while he was bound to the track and could hear the car rumbling toward him.