Nick had strode across the car and seated himself on a packing case, one of several that evidently had been shipped by express and which occupied one side of the car. He noticed that the door of a safe in one corner was closed, and the handle indicated that the safe was properly locked and the combination scattered. He felt reasonably sure that he could, with the help of Dan Cady and Chick, foil and arrest any gang that would attempt the robbery.
The clanging of the locomotive bell told that the train was about to start.
Passengers on the platform scampered toward the cars from which they had emerged.
“So long, Cady!” cried Denny, while he hastened toward the tower stairs.
Cady responded with a gesture and then closed and secured the door of the express car.
A backward jolt, a jangling of bumpers and couplings, a furious hissing of steam, followed by the labored puffing of the locomotive, and the train made way and the lonely junction with its platform and the signal tower were quickly left behind, grim and silent in the twilight of the starry night.
Nick Carter then lost no time in explaining the situation, the outcome of which was far from what he expected, yet what no mortal man could have anticipated.
“Now, Cady, I’ll put you wise to what’s in the wind,” said he, rising from the case on which he was seated. “Here is the letter from President Burdick that will tell you who I am, and a word will explain why I am here.”
Cady opened the letter and read it, then gazed more sharply at the detective.
“Well, say, this is some surprise,” he said bluntly. “I did not dream that you were Nick Carter, though I knew you were in the employ of the road. Do you suspect something wrong to-night, Mr. Carter, that you have boarded my car in this way?”