CHAPTER V

ONE MAN'S DUMFOUNDED FACE


When the new foreman's gang started on the "Pollard," at eight in the
morning, there was no outward ripple to show that anything unusual had
happened. True, Jacob Farnum arrived at the shed earlier than he was
accustomed to do, but those of the workmen who were not in the secret
thought nothing of that.

Half an hour later Josh Owen, a peculiar, gleaming look in his eyes,
showed his head at the manhole opening over their heads.

"Good morning, Mr. Farnum," he called.

"Good morning, Owen," answered the yard's owner. "Come right down."

Owen came down the spiral staircase, looking curiously about him.

"I got your note, Mr. Farnum," began the ex-foreman. "What's the
matter? Find you need me here, after all?"

"Not for long," replied Mr. Farnum, coldly. "Owen, before you gave your
keys in to Mr. Partridge you must have taken an impression of one of
them and must have fitted a key to the pattern. Why were you here last
night?"

"Me? I wasn't here last night--nor any other night," Josh Owen made