The detective wrote on a slip of paper the address to which letters should be sent, gave Jet more money, and concluded the interview by saying:
"It isn't well to let even the officers from Albany know what you propose to do. I will cook up some story to satisfy their curiosity. Now, go and buy me a through ticket, and one for yourself to the next station."
Jet did as he was directed, and, as he entered the depot saw Joe, who, guarded by the officer sent from New York, was waiting the coming of the train.
The alleged murderer bestowed a wicked look on the boy who had captured him, and then turned his head away.
"If he ever gets the chance I shall have a hot time of it," Jet thought, as he transacted his business with the ticket-seller and then returned to Harvey.
The latter was just being brought down stairs, for the time of departure was near at hand, and Jet followed him to the station, where the detective was warmly greeted by Joe's guard.
Here Jet felt proud by being introduced as the one who had made the arrest and afterward brought his prisoner safely through the woods where the remainder of the gang were lurking, and District Messenger No. 48 felt amply rewarded by the words of praise for all he had suffered.
The cars arrived. Jet followed his companions on board, and, twenty minutes later, alighted at a small village where it would be necessary he should wait half an hour before a western bound train came along.
"It's a tough job I've undertaken," he said to himself, when the long line of coaches had pulled out, leaving him alone, "and somehow or other I feel pretty certain I'm going to come to grief before this thing is ended."