"Yes," said I; "he's all right. Come. We've no time to lose."

Nor had we. Within twenty minutes we were seated in the last car of
a long train, and running at the rate of twenty miles an hour toward
Dayton. In about ten minutes I asked Stagers for a cigar.

"Can't smoke here," said he.

"No," I answered; "of course not. I'll go forward into the smoking-car."

"Come along," said he, and we went through the train.

I was not sorry he had gone with me when I found in the smoking-car one
of the spies who had been watching me so constantly. Stagers nodded to
him and grinned at me, and we sat down together.

"Chut!" said I, "left my cigar on the window-ledge in the hindmost car.
Be back in a moment."

This time, for a wonder, Stagers allowed me to leave unaccompanied. I
hastened through to the nearer end of the hindmost car, and stood on
the platform. I instantly cut the signal-cord. Then I knelt down, and,
waiting until the two cars ran together, I tugged at the connecting-pin.
As the cars came together, I could lift it a little, then as the strain
came on the coupling the pin held fast. At last I made a great effort,
and out it came. The car I was on instantly lost speed, and there on the
other platform, a hundred feet away, was Stagers shaking his fist at me.
He was beaten, and he knew it. In the end few people have been able to
get ahead of me.