"I don't think the porter had anything to do with our being locked in," explained Frank. "It was an accident. Our friend Mr. Hopkins slammed the door on his way out and the catch must have been on without our knowing it. It's perfectly all right."
"I got their tickets all right," said the conductor.
"Yes, sah. Ah collected dem tickets mahself. De old gen'man wif dese boys give 'em to me. Two tickets to Indianapolis, sah."
"To where?" asked Frank, in amazement.
"Indianapolis."
"But we're not going to Indianapolis."
"Dat's where yoh tickets reads to."
The Hardy boys looked at one another in consternation.
"But we're going to Montana. Didn't Mr. Hopkins give you tickets to Lucky Bottom, Montana?"
The conductor produced some tickets from his pocket and glanced through them. "Even if he did," he remarked, "they wouldn't be any use on this train. We're bound south, not west. No," he concluded, "your tickets are here, Compartment B, and they read Indianapolis."