old-fashioned courtesy. "I wish you a good-evening."

"Good-evening," I replied, putting out my hand.

But he either did not see it or did not choose to see it, and,
slightly lifting his hat, stepped out upon the platform. Having done
this, he moved slowly away and mingled with the departing crowd.

Leaning forward to watch him out of sight, I trod upon something
which proved to be a cigar-case. It had fallen, no doubt, from the
pocket of his waterproof coat, and was made of dark morocco leather,
with a silver monogram upon the side. I sprang out of the carriage
just as the guard came up to lock me in.

"Is there one minute to spare?" I asked, eagerly. "The gentleman
who travelled down with me from town has dropped his cigar-case;
he is not yet out of the station."

"Just a minute and a half, sir," replied the guard. "You must be
quick."

I dashed along the platform as fast as my feet could carry me. It
was a large station, and Mr. Dwerrihouse had by this time got more
than half-way to the farther end.

I, however, saw him distinctly, moving slowly with the stream.
Then, as I drew nearer, I saw that he had met some friend, that
they were talking as they walked, that they presently fell back
somewhat from the crowd and stood aside in earnest conversation.
I made straight for the spot where they were waiting. There was a