“Certainly, sir.”
We followed the guard, and the moment he had imparted his news there was a suppressed scream in the carriage. Instantly a lady came out, followed by a florid-faced gentleman, who scowled at the guard. We entered the now empty compartment, and Kombs said: “We would like to be alone here until we reach Brewster.”
“I’ll see to that, sir,” answered the guard, locking the door.
When the official moved away, I asked my friend what he expected to find in the carriage that would cast any light on the case.
“Nothing,” was his brief reply.
“Then why do you come?”
“Merely to corroborate the conclusions I have already arrived at.”
“And may I ask what those conclusions are?”
“Certainly,” replied the detective, with a touch of lassitude in his voice. “I beg to call your attention, first, to the fact that this train stands between two platforms, and can be entered from either side. Any man familiar with the station for years would be aware of that fact. This shows how Mr. Kipson entered the train just before it started.”
“But the door on this side is locked,” I objected, trying it.