A feeling of exultant satisfaction flashed over Merriwell, and he quickly stepped out onto the platform, closing the door behind him.
The woman turned and looked toward him.
The train was racing along, the track seeming to fly away from beneath the last car.
It was a strange place for a woman to be, out there on the rear platform, and Merry’s first thought had been that it must be the woman he sought, for had she not come out there to escape him? She had fancied he would look through the car, fail to find her, and decide that she was not on the train. It must be that she had seen Hodge come in, and had realized at once why he had entered the car. When he departed to carry the information to Frank, the desperate woman had fled to the rear platform.
Immediately on stepping out onto the platform, however, Frank decided that his reasoning was at fault.
It was a veiled woman, and she was in black, but it was not the woman he sought. It was not the woman who had caused his arrest in Denver!
Merry was disappointed.
The unknown looked at him, and said nothing. He looked at her and wondered. The veil was thick and baffling.
“Madam,” he said, “this is a dangerous place.”
She said nothing.