eans?"

"Search ahead," agreed the prisoner, half smiling. "And good luck to you
if you find anything to connect me--if you find anything," he corrected
quickly.

From a trouser pocket Alex drew out a large jack-knife. With a suspicion
of trembling he opened one of the blades and examined it, while the owner
regarded him curiously. With a shake of the head the young operator
opened the second blade. A quick smile of triumph lit up his face, and
delving into a vest pocket, he brought forth a scrap of paper, unfolded
it, and took out a fragment of charred pine shaving.

Turning his back on the now anxiously watching, though still puzzled,
owner of the knife, he held the shaving against the edge of the blade.
The superintendent bent over it, and uttered a delighted "Exactly!"

Triumphantly Alex turned toward the prisoner, and held the hand with the
knife and shaving before him. "Does this help you to recall what K. & Z.
means?" he asked.

"Recall? I don't--"

"See these two little ridges on the shaving? See these two little nicks
in the blade?"

With a hoarse cry the man flung himself backward, and bound as he was,
began struggling like a madman. Alex, the superintendent and the
Indian were to the oiler's assistance in a twinkle, however, and a
few minutes later saw the renegade in their midst on the way to the
boarding train--and, as it finally proved, to the jail at Exeter.

"I don't know who to thank most," said Superintendent Finnan later--"you,
Ward, or the oiler, or Little Hawk. Nor what appreciation to suggest
higher up."

"You might make it a blanket and Winchester for the Indian, and a purse
for the oiler, for the knocks he got and the bribe he refused," Alex
suggested.

"And yourself?"

"Oh, just let me keep the rascal's knife, as a memento," responded Alex
modestly.

"Very well; we'll agree on that--for the present," said the superintendent.

XX

A PRISONER

When the early-morning mail train stopped at Yellow Creek Junction on
Tuesday, Alex was at the little box-car station to greet Jack Orr and
Wilson Jennings. Jack, who had not met Wilson before the latter boarded
the train at Bonepile, had taken a liking to the easterner at once, and
confided to Alex that he was "the real goods," despite the "streak of
dude."

"We ought to have some good times together," Jack predicted, as, with
lively interest, he and Wilson accompanied Alex back toward the
nondescript but businesslike-looking