“What’s the matter?” asked Ned in a whisper, as he leaned forward. “See some new kind of a bug for the professor?”
“I overheard that man back of us speaking,” replied Jerry in a low tone, nodding his head to indicate where he meant. The benches were arranged so that travelers occupying them sat back to back. “His voice sounded like one I’ve heard before, but I can’t place it. I thought maybe you’d remember. We may have met him on our travels. I can’t see his face until he turns around.”
As he finished speaking, the man to whom he referred said something to his companion beside him. There came a momentary lull in the noises of the depot, and the boys heard him remark in low, but clear tones:
“We can make everything look regular. Derelicts are not uncommon, and I think we’ll be able to fool him so that the cargo—”
“Hush!” cautioned the other man. “Not so loud!”
The noise in the station again drowned what the two men were saying, but the boys had heard enough. All three of them knew at once that the man who had spoken was the stranger who had acted so queerly in the Cresville freight office. If they had any doubts of it they were dispelled a moment later when the doorman called out:
“All aboard for the western express!”
As the man and his companion arose, the boys saw he was the same individual who had been so particular about the boxes of stuff he shipped to San Francisco.
Before the three chums could make any comment the man and his companion were lost in the crowd that thronged to the door.
“Come, boys,” said the professor, closing his book. “That’s our train.”