ose to the pigeon hole that Erica doubted whether Herr Haeberlein's
eyebrows, improved though they were, could possibly have escaped
detection. It required all her self command to prevent her color from
rising and her fingers from trembling as she received the ticket
and change under that steady scrutiny. Then she passed out on to the
platform and found that Herr Haeberlein had been wise enough to buy the
paper which least sympathized with his views, and in a few minutes he
was safely disposed in the middle of a well-filled carriage.

Erica took out her watch. There were still three minutes before the
train started, three long, interminable minutes! She looked down the
platform, and her heart died within her; for, steadily advancing toward
them, she saw two men making careful search in every carriage.

Herr Haeberlein was sitting with his back to the engine. Between him
and the door sat a lady with a copy of the "Graphic" on her knee. If
she could only have been persuaded to read it, it might have made an
effectual screen. She tried to will her to take it up, but without
success. And still the detectives moved steadily forward with their keen
scrutiny.

Erica was in despair. Herr Haeberlein imagined himself safe now, and
she could not warn him without attracting the notice and rousing the
suspicion of the passengers. To complete her misery, she saw that he
had pushed his wig a little on one side, and through the black hair she
caught a glimpse of silver gray.

Her heart beat so fast that it almost choked her, but still she forced
herself to talk and laugh, though every moment the danger drew nearer.
At the very last moment an inspiration came to her. The detectives were
examining the next carriage.

"They are taking things in the most leisurely way tonight!" she
exclaimed. "I'm tired of waiting. I shall say goodbye to you, and go
home, I think."

As she spoke, she opened the carriage door stepped in, and
demonstratively kissed her silent companion, much to the amusement
of the passengers, who had been a good deal diverted by her racy
conversation and the grumpy replies of the traveler. There was a smile
on every face when one of the detectives looked in. He glanced to the
other side of the carriage and saw a dark-haired young man in an ulster,
and a pretty girl taking leave of her lover. Erica's face entirely hid
Herr Haeberlien's from view and the man passed on with a shrug and a
smile. She had contrived to read