“Hello, Jake Hoover,” she said. “Were you looking for me!”
Jake’s face fell, and he stared at her in comical dismay.
“Well, I snum!” he said. “How in tarnation did you come to git off that there train, hey?”
“I never was on it, Jake,” said Bessie, pleasantly. “You just thought I was, you see. You don’t want to jump to a conclusion so quickly.”
Jake was petrified. When he saw Dolly come out of the ticket office, puzzled by Bessie’s action, but entirely willing to back her up, his face turned white.
“You’re a pretty poor spy, Jake,” said Dolly, contemptuously. “I guess Mr. Holmes won’t be very pleased when he gets your message at Canton, telling him Bessie went on that train and then doesn’t find her aboard at all.”
“What’s that?” asked Bessie, suddenly. “Is that the message he sent, Dolly!”
“It certainly is,” said Dolly. “Why, what’s the matter, Bessie?”
But Bessie didn’t answer her. Instead she had raced toward a big railroad map that hung on the wall of the station, and was looking for Canton on it.
“I thought so!” she gasped. Then she ran over to the ticket window, and spoke to the agent.