"There would be some danger in carrying them; anyhow, he'd imagine so, although it looks as if Hulton doesn't mean to tell the police much just yet. Of course, there's the mail, but the thief might be afraid to post the papers."
Featherstone nodded. "I think it's in Hulton's favor that he'll be satisfied with one of the private detective agencies to begin with, while the man he's looking for will be on his guard against the police. Besides, it's possible that the fellow won't take many precautions, since there's a plausible explanation of Fred Hulton's death."
"Do you think the man you passed saw you well enough to know you again?"
"He may have done so."
"Then if he imagined that you saw him, it would make a difference," Foster said thoughtfully, "He'd reckon that you were the greatest danger he had to guard against."
Featherstone stopped and caught his comrade's arm as the yard locomotive pushed some cars along the track they were about to cross, and the harsh tolling of the bell made talking difficult. When the cars had passed they let the matter drop and went back to the hotel where they had left their automobile.
III
FOSTER MAKES A PROMISE
There was been frost next evening and Foster drove to the Crossing without his comrade, who thought it wiser to stay at home. The reunion he was going to attend was held annually by one or two mutual-improvement societies that combined to open their winter sessions. It had originally begun with a lecture on art or philosophy, but had degenerated into a supper and dance. Supper came early, because in Canada the meal is generally served about six o'clock.
The wooden hall was decorated with flags and cedar boughs, and well filled with young men and women, besides a number of older citizens. The floor and music were good, and Foster enjoyed two dances before he met Carmen Austin. He had not sought her out, because she was surrounded by others, and he knew that if she wanted to dance with him she would let him know. It was generally wise to wait Carmen's pleasure.