So Mark and Jack, with what scanty clothes they had, and carrying their valise, went quietly out of the back door of the police station.
"We'd better go to the machine shop for the rest of the stuff," suggested Mark, "and then we can take the first trolley we see and get back to the professor."
Through quiet side streets the boys made their way toward the machine shop. They were somewhat amused to think how they had fooled the detective, but they would not have felt so jolly had they seen the roughly dressed man who had darted after them as soon as they left the police station.
"I'll get you yet," the man muttered. "You needn't think to escape with the aid of these bloomin' American police."
The lads found the machinist just opening his shop though it was quite early. The pieces of apparatus were finished and, after paying for them Mark put the parts in the valise.
"Quite a fire in town," observed the machinist.
"Yes," answered Mark, not wishing to get into a long conversation.
"Heard the hotel was blowed up by anarchists and that the police are after 'em," proceeded the man.
"I believe I did hear something like that," admitted Mark. "I guess we'll be going."
He signalled to Jack, and the two hurried out of the shop. As they did so, the trampish-looking man glided from behind a tree where he had been hiding and took after them.