val reporters happened to be there for the
same purpose. He scanned the backs of the heads of the passengers first,
and then looked keenly into each man's face as he passed. He had, in
common with all newspaper men, the detective instinct. Who knew what
eminent defaulter or renowned cracksman was fleeing the city in dark
disguise? However, he observed no familiar or suspicious character until
he entered the smoking car.

He did not go through, for, although a great smoker, he took no pleasure
in indulging in his favorite vice in the air of a democratic smoking
car. What fastidious smoker does? He was content to let his eyes wander
up and down the aisle. He was about to turn, when his gaze fell upon the
back of a dingy linen duster, which was surmounted by a large, faded,
black sombrero. The man under these garments had the upper part of his
face hidden beneath the broad flap of his hat, while the under part of
his face was entirely submerged in a large pamphlet. The man had the air
of extreme retirement. Something about the dinginess of the felt hat
seemed familiar to Swift. But, no; it could not be. To make sure, the
new editor of the _Planet_ approached, and bent behind the man. The
gentleman was ignorant of the attention he attracted, and did not stir.
He seemed to be engrossed in one of Mr. Atkinson's incomprehensible
financial reports. Swift caught sight of the travellers face, started
back in amazement, and said:

"Excuse me, sir: is this seat engaged?" and without further ceremony sat
down beside the recondite stranger, who dropped his paper and stared at
Swift in return.

"Great Caesar!" blurted out Swift. "How the D--epartment did you come
here?"

"On the five fifty-eight elevated," replied the man, imperturbably.

"I--I didn't know you were sent, too." Swift's heart burned within him
at the fancied slight.

"I wasn't," answered Mr. Statis Ticks, laconically and wearily.

"Where the dickens are you going, then?" asked Swift, warmly.

"To Russell, of course."

"How on earth did you get off?"

"I didn't, young man. I skipped." This exceptional occasion doubtless
accounted for the only bit of slang that was ever heard to fall from
those dry lips. "You see," proceeded Mr. Ticks drearily, "the
circumstance is a little unusual. I have read of nothing similar in the
casualty reports. I thought it best for my reputation to make my own
personal observations and figures on the spot."

"But your position?" a