“Tried a disguise and marked himself.” Captain Tucker bolted for the door. They pushed past the alarmed, agitated Petey and left him crying after them.
At the railroad station a strange agent, a relief for the regular man, came to the ticket window.
“Did you sell a ticket late this afternoon or this evening to a man with a cut lip?” Captain Tucker barked the question.
“Why, yes.” The agent spoke with a slow, maddening drawl. “Short, dark fellow. Couldn’t help noticing that lip. Looked as though——”
“How many tickets did he buy?”
“Why, if I recollect, he bought one. Yes; one ticket.”
“Where to?”
“Peekskill. Yes; I remember that. Just happens that I have a married daughter in Peek——”
Captain Tucker frothed. “Never mind your family. This is important. What train did he take?”
The agent was galvanized into more rapid speech. “The 6:29.”