Whether I prophesied true or not, will soon be seen.




CHAPTER X.

The Burglar Tracked to His Lair--The Old Stage Driver--A Fishing
Party--A Long Wait--A Sorrowful Surprise--The Arrest of Newton Edwards.


Our plans were soon completed for a visit to the place indicated by the
address upon the two letters. In the meantime, however, I had telegraphed
to the police officials at Denver, and learned from them that no such
person as Newton Edwards had been about that place, or was known there at
all. They also promised that if any one called for a letter addressed to
that name they would arrest him at once and inform us immediately.

McDonald, I soon learned, was a little village in the central part of
New York, remotely situated, and with no railroad or telegraph
facilities of any kind. An excellent hiding-place for a fugitive
certainly, particularly, as I suspected, if he had relatives residing
there. Far away from the swift and powerful messengers of steam and
electricity, he might safely repose in quiet seclusion until the
excitement had died away and pursuit was abandoned. Such places as these
afford a secure harbor for the stranded wrecks of humanity, and many a
fleeing criminal has passed years of his life in quiet localities, where
he was removed from the toil and bustle, and the prying eyes of the
officers of the law in the more populous cities and towns.