platform stood the
old man who had peered into the farm-house window but a short time
before.

It was an aggravating situation.

"You can use the telegraph," suggested the depot agent, when Darrel
unbosomed himself to him.

"Quick! Send word to the next station, and have the man detained."

The ticket agent went to his instrument and ticked off the desired
information.

A little later came the reply:

"No such person on the train."

A malediction fell from the detective's lips. Was his enemy to thus
outwit him always?

CHAPTER XXIX.

RETRIBUTION.

A tall, handsome man of middle-age stood picking his teeth with a
jaunty air beside the desk of a down-town boarding-house, when his
occupation, if such we may call it, was interrupted by a touch on his
arm.

Looking down, the gentleman saw a small, ragged urchin standing near.

"It is yourn--10 cents, please."

The boy held out a yellow envelope, on which was scrawled the name
"Harper Elliston."

The gentleman dropped the required bit of silver into the boy's hand
with the air of a king, and then tore open the envelope.

"MR. ELLISTON: Meet me at Room 14, Number 388 Blank street, at seven
this evening, SHARP. Business of importance.

"B."

The contents of the envelope puzzled Mr. Elliston, who had been but
ten days in New York since his return from the West. He had several
acquaintances whose names might with appropriateness be signed B. "I
don't think there'll be any harm in meeting Mr. B. at the place
mentioned. It may be of importance, as he says. If it should be a trap
set by Dyke Darrel--but, pshaw! that man is dead. I had it from the
lips of Martin Skidway, and he knew whereof he spoke. I will call at
388, let the consequences be what they may." Thus decided a cunning
villain, and in so doing went to his own doom.

Ten days had Dyke Darrel and his friend Bernard searched the city of
New York ere they found their prey. Once found, the detective resolved
upon a novel manner of procedure for his capture. The sending of the
letter was part of the scheme. Had this failed, then a bolder move
would have been made.

But it did not fail.

When Mr. Elliston rapped at room 14, number 388 Blank street, the door
was opened, admitting the visitor to a small room containing a bed, a
few necessary articles of furniture, and a curtained alcove.

The door was suddenly closed and locked behind Elliston, light was
turned on fully, and then the visitor