“See here, Mr. West,” he began, excitedly, “I understand the Brotherhood’s accused of having a hand in this thing, and I just want to say to you that it didn’t—”
“All right,” said Allan, and swung himself on to the rear platform of the train. “I’ll be back this afternoon. Drop in and talk it over.”
“I will. There isn’t a bit of truth in the—”
But the delegate’s voice was drowned by the rumble of the train as it started.
Allan, entering the coach, found Stanley awaiting him. They dropped into a seat together.
“Well, did they get you?” asked the detective, grinning.
“I managed to break away. But I nearly missed the train. Then that fellow in charge of the strike held me up to say the Brotherhood hadn’t anything to do with this thing.”
“Oh, no,” said Stanley, “of course the Brotherhood didn’t. But that isn’t saying that none of its members did.”
The conductor came up at that moment and stopped for a moment’s chat.
“We want to drop off about a mile and a half this side of Schooley’s,” said Allan. “I’ll show you the place.”