"Very true, and this may be one of them. There is a slight difference
here, too, for this man wears side-whiskers. But his beard is not heavy
enough to conceal the scar."

"Do you remember where he is going?"

"To Woodsville; and he inquired for Jack Ingleside. Seemed surprised
when I told him Jack was dead. Said he was a relative, and he asked all
about the family. Here we are at the Big Y. This is as far as I go."


CHAPTER III.

An impatient crowd was waiting at the Big Y station for the northern
mail, which was half an hour overdue.

Finally, when the engine thundered into the depot, puffing and panting
like an over-driven steed, there was a rush to board the train, as if
the time was limited to the shortest possible space.

"It's going to be a rough night," muttered the old engineer, as he
peered out of the cab window into the gathering gloom of storm and
darkness. "I never felt so uneasy in my life, and I have a presentiment
something is going to happen--as if it wasn't enough to be half an hour
behind time and your engine in the sulks. But how are you feeling,
Gilly?" addressing his fireman. "Any better?"

"No, Jockey; and I am afraid I won't be able to go through. I don't
understand it, for I felt well enough when I started."