at both
places, that he had escaped unobserved. He was more satisfied of this
when, at Forty-second Street again, Mr. Mitchel once more left the
train, crossed the bridge, and this time went forward, taking the coach
for the Grand Central. Evidently all the manoeuvring had merely been
prompted by caution, and not having observed his shadow, the man was
about to continue to his true destination. Mr. Mitchel had entered the
coach by the first gate, and was seated quietly in the corner as Wilson
passed on, going in by the gate at the opposite end. A moment later the
guard slammed the gate at Wilson's end, and pulled the bell-rope. As
quick as a flash Mr. Mitchel jumped up, and before he could be
prevented, had left the coach just as it started, carrying away Wilson,
completely outwitted and dumbfounded. As soon as the train stopped he
darted down-stairs, and ran back towards the Third Avenue station; but
he knew it was useless, as it proved. He saw nothing of Mr. Mitchel.

Wilson was greatly disheartened, for he was most anxious to stand well
with Mr. Barnes, his chief. Yet in revolving over the occurrences of the
last half hour he could not see how he could have prevented the escape
of his man, since it was evident that he had intentionally acted in a
way to prevent pursuit. If one but knows or suspects that he is being
shadowed, the Third Avenue elevated road, with its bridges at
Thirty-fourth and Forty-second Streets, offers the most effectual means
of eluding the most skilful detective. If Wilson had known anything
whatever about the man who had escaped him, he might have been able to
guess his destination, and so have caught up with him again by hurrying
ahead and meeting him, as he had frequently done when following noted
criminals with whose haunts he was acquainted. In this instance he was
utterly in the dark, so could do nothing but swear.

If he could not report where Mr. Mitchel had gone, at least he might
discover at what time he returned to his hotel, and possibly Mr. Barnes
might receive some valuable hint by the lapse of time. With this idea,
Wilson returned to the Fifth Avenue Hotel and waited patiently. He
telephoned to head-quarters only to hear that Mr. Barnes had gone back
to Boston to bring Pettingill to New York. Seven o'clock arrived, and
yet his vigil was unrewarded. It suddenly occurred to him that as he had
seen Mr. Mitchel purchase tickets for the Casino, that might be a good
place to watch, tho