While the detectives were struggling to extricate their heads, they inhaled the deadly fumes and were overcome by the drug.
Not until they were fast asleep did the man remove the cloth.
No one had seen the deed, as they occupied the last seats in the aisle and not an undue noise had arisen to attract attention.
Seeing the detectives stupid from the drug, a low chuckle escaped the man, and he rose to his feet and muttered:
"Sleep, you dogs! Tracked me, eh? Well, it won't do you any good. You'll be snoring long after we reach Georgia. And when you do arouse yourselves, you'll find the box gone from this train. This must be a mighty good disguise, if you failed to recognize Solomon Gloom in it—really, a very clever disguise."
And he chuckled again, glanced at the gray suit and bicycle cap he wore, felt of the false beard covering his face and walked into one of the forward cars where he had a chance to remain until the opportunity came for him to alight at his destination.
The lightning express train went thundering along over the rails and the Bradys slept on until mid-day.
When they aroused themselves, the cars had left Charleston.
Their fury knew no bounds, and Old King Brady said, bitterly:
"It must have been Gloom who did that."