ings
to do. I say, Hankes, could you contrive to look in here to-morrow
evening, after nightfall? I may have something to tell you."

"We were strictly confidential,--all on honor, this morning, Kit," said
the other, whispering.

"I think you know _me_, Mister Simmy," was all Grog's reply. "I don't
think my worst enemy could say that I ever 'split' on the fellow that
trusted me."

A hearty shake-hands followed, and they parted.

CHAPTER XXXIV. THE TRAIN

The up-train from Holyhead was a few minutes behind time at Chester,
and the travellers who awaited its arrival manifested that mixture of
impatience and anxiety which in our railroad age is inseparable from all
delay. One stranger, however, displayed a more than ordinary eagerness
for its coming, and compared the time of his watch repeatedly with the
clock of the station.

At length from the far-away distance the wild scream of the engine was
heard, and with many a cranking clash and many a heavy sob the vast
machine swept smoothly in beneath the vaulted roof. As the stranger
moved forward to take his place, he stopped to hear a few words that met
his ear. It was a railroad official said: "Mr. Davenport Dunn delayed
us about a quarter of an hour; he wanted to give a look at the new
pier, but we have nearly made it up already." "All right!" replied the
station-master. The stranger now moved on till he came in front of a
coupe carriage, whose window-blinds rigidly drawn down excluded all
view from without. For an instant he seemed to fumble at the door, in
an endeavor to open it, but was speedily interrupted by a guard calling
out, "Not there, sir,--that's a private carriage;" and thus warned,
the traveller entered another lower down the line. There were two other
travellers in the same compartment, apparently strangers to each other.
As the stranger with whom we are immediately concerned took his place,
he slipped into his pocket a small latch-key, of which, in the
very brief attempt to try the door of the private carriage, he had
successfully proved the utility, and, drawing his rug across his knees,
lay calmly back.

"Here we are, detained again," grumbled out one of the travellers. "I
say, guard, what is it now?"

"Waiting for a telegram for Mr. Davenport Dunn, sir. There it comes! all
right" A low bell rings out, a wild screech following, and with many a
clank and shock the dusky monster sets out once more.

"Public convenience should scarcely be s