"Can it be, by any chance, Mr. Cameron," the young millionaire asked, "that your case has any connection with the Citrous Junction Railway?"
"It has!" cried the engineer, springing to his feet. "But how did you guess it? I never mentioned it—I was careful about that."
"No, you did not," agreed Dick, "but your mention of the date—September third—gave me the clue."
"You are looking for clues, then?"
"In a way, yes. I am seeking some means of getting back to Mr. Wardell the control of the railroad that is about to be taken from him. I was on my way to San Francisco to file a certain paper before September third—the date you mentioned. By the merest accident, happening to pick up a newspaper, probably tossed from a train, I learned that my efforts would be of no avail, because of testimony given by a new witness. And you——"
"I am that witness!" cried Mr. Cameron. "Great Scott! but this is queer. To think of me telling the secret to some one—in all the world—who knew the other half of it. It's astounding! May I ask how you figure in it?"
"Because my uncle, Mr. Ezra Larabee, is the man who is trying to get Mr. Wardell's fortune, and, for the honor of the family, I am trying to prevent him."
"You Ezra Larabee's nephew! Well, of all things in the world that I should meet you here! Why, young man, Ezra Larabee—or, rather, his agent—is paying me to remain away so that the other side can't get hold of me. For, you must know that Mr. Wardell does not own all the stock in the railroad. There are some minor shareholders, and it is they who are trying to get me to go to court on their behalf. But I have accepted money from Mr. Larabee, and, as far as I know, he is in the right. I cannot go back on him, merely because you happen to be for the other side.
"And so you are Larabee's nephew. You don't look much like him, which is a consolation."
"Have you seen him?" asked Dick.