"I think we ought to make a search for this David Ball, or Malone, or
whatever his name is."

"I'm willing to do that."

After questioning half a dozen people they learned that the pretended
sick man had driven off in the direction of a village called Hopedale.

"What made him go there, do you think?" questioned Joe.

"I don't know, excepting that he thought of getting a train on the other
line."

A horse and buggy were procured, and in this Mr. Mallison and our hero
drove over to Hopedale. They were still on the outskirts of the village
when they heard a locomotive whistle.

"There's the afternoon train now!" cried Joe. "Perhaps it's the one he
wants to catch."

The horse was touched up and the buggy drove up to the railroad platform
at breakneck speed. But the train was gone and all they could see of it
was the last car as it swung around one of the mountain bends.

"Too late, Mr. Mallison!" sang out the station master. "If I had known
ye was comin' I might have held her up a bit."

"I didn't want the train, Jackson. Who got on board?"