In a few moments I was outside of the jail gate, and saw my
fellow-clergyman, Mr. Stagers, in full broadcloth and white tie, coming
down the street toward me. As usual, he was on his guard; but this time
he had to deal with a man grown perfectly desperate, with everything to
win and nothing to lose. My plans were made, and, wild as they were, I
thought them worth the trying. I must evade this man's terrible watch.
How keen it was, you cannot imagine; but it was aided by three of the
infamous gang to which File had belonged, for without these spies no one
person could possibly have sustained so perfect a system.

I took Stagers's arm. "What time," said I, "does the first train start
for Dayton?"

"At twelve. What do you want?"

"How far is it?"

"About fifteen miles," he replied.

"Good. I can get back by eight o'clock to-night."

"Easily," said Stagers, "if you go. What do you want?"

"I want a smaller tube to put in the windpipe--must have it, in fact."

"Well, I don't like it," said he, "but the thing's got to go through
somehow. If you must go, I will go along myself. Can't lose sight of
you, doc, just at present. You're monstrous precious. Did you tell
File?"