“Then, it must be that your woman was the man who met his death in the river. There is no other explanation of her disappearance. You must give up now, Hodge.”
But Hodge would not give up, although he could offer no explanation, and the mystery remained unsolved.
There were numerous stops between Denver and Puelbo, and it was nightfall before the train brought them to their destination. The sun had dropped behind the distant Rockies, and the soft shades of a perfect spring evening were gathering when they drew up at the station in Puelbo.
Lights were beginning to twinkle in windows, and the streets were lighted. “Props” had gone to look after the baggage, and the company was gathered on the platform. Cabmen were seeking to attract fares.
Of a sudden, a cry broke from the lips of Bart Hodge:
“There she is!”
All were startled by his sudden cry. They saw him start from the others, pointing toward a woman who was speaking to a cabman. That woman had left the train and crossed the platform, and she was dressed in black and heavily veiled.
Frank saw her—recognized her.
“By heavens! it is the woman,” he exclaimed.