"It might," admitted Dyke Darrel. "This is all you know regarding the
midnight tragedy?"

"Oh, no; I can give you more particulars."

"Let's have them, then."

"But see here, how am I to know that you are a detective? I might get
sold, you know," replied Mr. Wilks in a suspicious tone.

Dyke Darrel lifted the lapel of his coat, exposing a silver star.

"All right," returned Mr. Wilks, with a nod. "I'm of the opinion that
Skinny Joe's about the customer you need to look after, captain. I'll
go down with you to the fellow's old haunts, and we'll see what we can
find."

Mr. Wilks seemed tremendously interested. Dyke Darrel was naturally
suspicious, and he was not ready to swallow everything his companion
said as law and gospel. Of course the large reward was a stimulant for
men to be on the lookout for the midnight train robbers; and Mr.
Wilks' interest must be attributable to this.

"You see, I was Arnold Nicholson's friend, and I'd go a long ways to
see the scoundrels get their deserts who killed him, even if there was
no reward in the case," explained the brakeman suddenly.

"Certainly," answered Dyke Darrel. "I can understand how one employed
on the same train could take the deepest interest in such a sad
affair."