“Yes,” replied Leonard.
“Read that.”
Leonard took the paper, and, at a spot indicated by Mr. Stark’s thumb, saw among the latest dispatches the following paragraph:
“HILLSDALE, Aug. 29.—Charles Conrad, charged with the murder of Col. Wm. Conrad, of Dalton, made his escape while coming here on the cars last night in charge of a constable. He is slightly below the medium height, with blue eyes and a light mustache. A large reward is offered for his capture.”
Leonard stared at these words in dumb amazement. He read them over twice before speaking. Then he turned to Mr. Stark.
“What is to be done?” he asked.
“Nothing, by you,” replied the gentleman, quite composed, “except to give me a very particular and exact description of his personal appearance.”
Leonard having given the desired description, Mr. Stark said:
“Now leave everything to me for a short time. My chance of capturing your cousin is as good as that of any one else. I’ll send telegrams to some of my associates, and he may come to no harm. But whatever may be the result, you can do nothing. Remember that, and go on to New York. Of course you must tell Duncan & Mishler everything, and I hope they are discreet men. It might be well for you to drop around to No. —— 12th street to-morrow morning, and, if I have occasion to communicate with you, you will find a message there for the Reverend Mr. Withers. They’ll know you. And now, good-day. I have other business on hand. I think the next train will bring you to New York about eight o’clock this evening.”
Leonard passed out of Mr. Stark’s office, went down stairs and into the street, and made his way to the railroad depot.