to her was not so
completely accepted by her and so definite as appeared on the surface,
since Avery thought it necessary to convince her rather than merely
tell her. And what sent the blood hot and throbbing into Eaton's
temples was the cruelty of Avery's action.
So Avery was that kind of a man! The kind that, when an end is to be
attained, is ready to ignore as though unimportant the human side of
things. Concurrently with these thoughts--as always with all his
thoughts--was running the memory of his own experience--that experience
of which Eaton had not spoken and of which he had avoided speaking at
any cost; and as he questioned now whether Avery might be one of those
men who to gain an end they deem necessary are ready to disregard
humanity,--to inflict suffering, wrong, injustice,--he realized that he
was beginning to hate Avery for himself, for what he was, aside from
the accusation he brought.
No sounds came to him now from the washroom--the girl must have
controlled herself; footsteps passing the door of his compartment told
him then that the two had gone out into the open car.
CHAPTER X
THE BLIND MAN'S EYES
Half an hour later, Connery unlocked the door of Eaton's compartment,
entered and closed the door behind him. He had brought in Eaton's
traveling bag and put it down.
"You understand," said the conductor, "that when a train is stalled
like this it is considered as if under way. So I have local police
power, and I haven't exceeded my rights in putting you under arrest."
"I don't recall that I have questioned your right," Eaton answered
shortly.
"I thought you might question it now. I'm going to search you. Are
you going to make trouble or needn't I send for help?"
"I'll help you." Eaton took off his coat and vest and handed them
over. The conductor put them on a seat while he felt over his prisoner
for weapons or other concealed objects. Eaton handed him a
pocket-knife, and the key to his traveling-bag--he had no other
keys--from his trousers pockets. The conductor discovered nothing
else. He found a pencil--but no papers or memorandum book--a plain
gold watch, unengraved, and a bill-fold containing seven hundred
dollars in United States bank-notes in the vest. Connery wrote out a
receipt for the money and handed it to his prisoner. He returned the
other articles. In the coat, the conductor found a handkerchief and in
another pocket the torn scraps of the telegram d
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