The murder in the K. C. tower at Shelby, the brutal killing of Karl Glidden, also the other crimes and the outrages along the S. & O. road—all were so fresh in the mind of every night operator during his weary vigil, that none was taking any chances of being caught unprepared.
Three bells suddenly broke the stillness of the tower chamber. They told Denny that the operator in the next tower north was waiting for his unlock, that the Southern Limited was approaching North Dayton, and Denny pushed the plug into the box and held it for an O. K. Getting it almost instantly, he arose and set his signals.
As he turned from the lever, he heard a step on the tower stairs. As quick as a flash, while a hand was laid on the knob of the door, Denny stepped to the table and seized his revolver.
The door was opened and a roughly clad, bearded man appeared on the threshold. He looked like a track hand, or one employed on the railway. He was a stranger to Denny, however, who covered him instantly, crying sharply:
“Hold on! Stop right there! What do you want?”
Nick Carter smiled and said quietly:
“A few words with you, Denny, nothing more. I have a letter of introduction from President Burdick. It will tell you who I am and why I am here.”
Denny appeared incredulous and suspicious.
“Stay where you are!” he commanded. “Toss me the letter, then hands up while I read it.”
Nick obeyed, remarking, with a laugh: