The train began to slow down. Lifting the blind, Hawke looked out of the window. He could just discern a fairly big town, completely in darkness.
"Manningtree Junction," said Hawke to himself. "Something on the line, I suppose. H'm, we're stopping."
With a jerk the train pulled up at the station. The platform was almost deserted, for no train was due at that time to stop there. A door slammed. Again the detective pulled aside the blind. He was just in time to see his fellow-traveller, accompanied by the guard, disappear into the station waiting-room.
"He's tumbled to it!" exclaimed Hawke. "He's making off. He's tipped the guard to set him down. I'm after him!"
He made his way swiftly and stealthily down the platform, and with a quick movement threw open the waiting-room door.
The sudden transition from the semi-darkness of the platform to the brilliantly lighted interior of the room temporarily dazzled his eyes. Dimly he was aware that the place was occupied by khaki-clad soldiers struggling into their equipment, and that in their midst was the guard and the man of whom he was in search.
"At any rate there is plenty of assistance," thought Hawke as he advanced to tap the suspect on the shoulder; but before he could attain his object a deep, stern voice exclaimed:
"Arrest him, men!"
The next instant Detective-inspector Hawke was seized by half a dozen muscular hands.
"What's this tomfoolery?" he demanded angrily. "I'm a Scotland Yard officer, and——"