" he said, mockingly. "It ain't
fur now to the meetin'-place. I reckon we'll git thar long about
sunset."

CHAPTER XXXVI.

CONCLUSION.

Tom Fordham proved as good as his word. After apprising the station
agent at Kingman of the situation by telegram, he took Jerry uptown to
his home.

An early supper was served the boys, and then they hurried off to the
Grand Central Depot.

It was nearly noon on Friday when the lads arrived at Kingman. They
found a large crowd assembled to meet them, among whom were Jack Mowry
and the station agent.

They went at once to the latter's house, and after briefly telling their
own story, they were amazed to learn that absolutely no clew of any sort
had been discovered.

"Most of the party that was scourin' the woods hev come back," said
Mowry. "They was in an' out through every part of the woods, but all
ter no purpus. It's mighty queer what them rascals hes done with the
lads."

"And how about Raikes and Mr. Glendale?" asked Jerry.

"Not a trace of them has been seen," replied the agent, "though we
have kept a careful watch on the trains and made inquiries in various
directions. If they left New York at the time your telegram stated, they
must have reached this part of the country a good two days ago--even
before we were on the watch for them."

"Perhaps they got off at some other station than Kingman," suggested
Tom.

"Quite likely," asserted the agent. "In that case, we have missed them.
It looks very much as though the rascals were going to collar all that
money and get scot-free."

His opinion was reluctantly shared by the others. It was a doleful crowd
that sat around the hot stove, vainly pondering what could be done.

But at three o'clock the situation took an unexpected and pleasing turn.
A tall, bearded man, clad in a hunter's garb, rushed noisily into the
house with two companions.

"Hullo, Ike Carter," exclaimed the agent. "What's up?"

"A good deal, I reckon," replied the other. "I jist heard that you an'
Mowry are lookin' fur Silas Raikes. I seen him this mornin' in Hiram
Bobb's tavern at Wytopitlock. His mustache was shaved off, but I knowed
him all ther same. He was with a swell-lookin' cuss with a beard an'
shiny black togs----"

"That was Mr. Glendale," interrupted Tom, rising eagerly to his feet.

At first the news caused great excitement, and it was some time before
it could be al