“Not the man!” whispered Larry hoarsely.
“No! It looked like him, when he had his back turned, but, now that I see his face, I know he isn’t the same one.”
“Are you sure?” asked Larry, not wanting to be balked after all his hard work. “Think well, now! Is that the man who bought the valise?”
“No, he isn’t the same one,” replied the girl. “That man had a beard, and this one is smooth-shaven.”
There was no doubt about that, for the man, who had turned and was looking squarely at Larry and the girl, had no sign of beard or moustache. And then Larry gave a gasp.
“Why! Why!” he whispered. “That’s the man we met in the subway! The man who jostled you—whom I shoved off the train platform. Don’t you remember him?”
“Indeed I do!” exclaimed the girl. “I still limp a little because of him stepping on my foot. But see! He’s looking right at us! Oh, what shall I do?”
The mysterious man unexpectedly solved the problem for them, for, no sooner had he caught sight of Larry and the girl, than he gave a start, and turned hurriedly aside. A moment later he fairly ran down an aisle leading toward an elevator.
“Well, what do you think of that?” gasped Larry.
“He was afraid,” declared Miss Mason.