Scanlon and Nora Cavanaugh were hurrying through the vast waiting-room at the railroad station when the big athlete felt a touch upon his arm.
"Not that way, old chap," said a voice at his side.
It was Ashton-Kirk, smiling and unruffled, and near by stood the broker, Quigley. Nora gave a gasp of despair, and Scanlon felt her cling to him, tremblingly.
"Fenton is outside there," resumed the investigator, nodding his head toward the train shed. "I have a notion that he's on his way to Stanwick. If you go out, he'll see you."
Bat gave a sigh of relief; after all, his own mission and that of Nora was not suspected.
"Is Fuller trailing him?" he asked.
"Yes; he just gave me the word as he passed."
Quigley, as he stood waiting, had a most uncomfortable expression upon his face; he stood first upon one foot and then upon the other; evidently what was in prospect for him was not at all to his liking.
"Mr. Quigley and myself had intended taking the train for Stanwick," said Ashton-Kirk. "But I think now that we'd better not."
"Not go?" It was Nora who spoke, and there was eagerness in her voice.