"
"How do you know?"
"Little things. A regular spike-puller claw-bar was used--the marks of
its heel are still in the ties; the place was chosen to the exact
rail-length--just where your engine would begin to hug the outside of
the curve. Then the rail is sprung aside barely enough to let the wheel
flanges through, and not enough to attract an engineer's attention
unless he happened to be looking directly at it, and in a good light."
The superintendent nodded. "What is your inference?" he asked.
"Only what I say; that the man knew his business. He is no ordinary
hobo; he is more likely in your class, or mine."
Lidgerwood ground his heel into the gravel, and with the feeling that he
was wasting precious time of Dawson's which should go into the
track-clearing, asked another question.
"Fred, tell me; you've known John Judson longer than I have: do you
trust him--when he's sober?"
"Yes." The answer was unqualified.
"I think I do, but he talks too much. He is over here, somewhere,
to-night, shadowing the man who may have done this.
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