chair held up the
newspaper to hide his face. After a few moments, Daly said, "I don't
know anybody here; it looks as if my friends aren't in the town."

Then he went along the hall, and when the door shut Foster put down the
newspaper and began to think. He imagined that Daly hardly expected to
find Featherstone in Hawick, but it was curious that he was going to
Langholm, which was on the best road to Lockerbie in Annandale. It was
the police Foster had tried to put off the track at the clachan by
striking west across the moors, and he did not think Daly had anything
to do with them. He could see no light on the matter, but when he went
back to the garage it was something of a relief to find the car had
gone.

XIII

FOSTER RETURNS TO THE GARTH

After breakfast next morning Foster asked the hotel porter to take his
knapsack to the station and get him a ticket to Carlisle. He must
leave a clew for Daly, who might come back to Hawick when he failed to
find him in Annandale but would be badly puzzled if he went to
Carlisle, because it was an important railway center, where one would
have a choice of several different routes. This would give Foster a
few quiet days, after which he must think of a way of inducing Daly to
resume the chase. The latter probably thought he was following
Lawrence, and if he did not, no doubt concluded that Foster was working
in concert with him, and to find one would help him to deal with the
other.

It was a dark morning and the smoke of the woolen factories hung about
the town. A few lights burned in the station, but the building was
gloomy and Foster had some trouble in finding the porter among the
waiting passengers. Soon after he did so, the train came in and the
man hurried along the platform, looking into the carriages.

"Ye wanted a corridor, sir," he said as he opened a door.

Foster got in and stood at the window until the porter went away.
People were running up and down looking for places, but he had no time
to lose. Opening the door on the opposite side, he went along the
corridor and stood for a moment on the step at the other end of the
carriage. He could not see the porter, and when two or three
passengers ran up got down from the step. Next moment the whistle
blew, the engine snorted, and the train rolled out of the station.

As none of the porters spoke to him, Foster thought he had managed the
thing neatly and made it look as if he had come to see so