s loss,
continued his run to the station. He arrived there breathless, and
hurried to the ticket-office.

"Give me a ticket to Chambersburg," he said.

"All right, sir. Ninety cents."

If Riccabocca had been compelled to take out his wallet, he would
at once have discovered his loss, and the ticket would not have been
bought. But he had a two-dollar bill in his vest, and it was out of this
that he paid for the ticket to Chambersburg. Armed with the ticket,
he waited anxiously for the train. He had five minutes to wait--five
anxious moments in which his flight might be discovered. He paced the
platform, looking out anxiously for the train.

At length he heard the welcome sound of the approaching locomotive. The
train came to a stop, and among the first to enter it was the eminent
elocutionist. He took a seat beside the window looking out toward the
village. What did he see that brought such an anxious look in his face?

A buggy was approaching the depot at breakneck speed. It contained Mr.
Gates, the landlord, and the young musician. Mr. Gates was lashing the
horse, and evidently was exceedingly anxious to arrive at the depot
before the train started.

Beads of perspiration stood on the anxious brow of the professor. His
heart was filled with panic terror.

"The girl must have told them of my flight," he said to himself. "Oh,
why didn't I think to give her a quarter to keep her lips closed? Why
doesn't the train start?"

The buggy was only about ten rods away. It looked as if Philip and his
companion would be able to intercept the fugitive.

Just then the scream of the locomotive was heard. The train began to
move. Professor Riccabocca gave a sigh of relief.

"I shall escape them after all," he said triumphantly, to himself.

He opened the window, and, with laughing face, nodded to his pursuers.

"We've lost him!" said Philip, in a tone of disappointment. "What can we
do?"

"Find out where he is going, and telegraph to have him stopped," said
Mr. Gates. "That will put a spoke in his wheel."

CHAPTER XXXIII. THE LOST WALLET.

Mr. Gates was acquainted with the depot-master, and lost no time in
seeking him.

"Too late for the train?" asked the latter, who observed in the landlord
evidences of haste.

"Not for the train, but for one of the passengers by the train,"
responded the landlord. "Did you take notice of a man dressed in a
shabby suit of black, wearing a soft hat and having very long bla