ept out of sight among them
until the guard waved his flag. Then he stepped behind a truck loaded
with milk-cans as the train rolled away.

If the man he had noticed had been watching him, he thought he had put
him off the track, but he had no time to lose if he meant to catch the
stopping train. He got in as it started, choosing an old carriage
without a corridor, so that nobody could spy on him. They jolted over
the crossings, the old red wall of the city rolled by and dropped
behind, and as they ran out towards the open country across the Eden,
Foster thoughtfully lighted a cigarette. He had tried to put his
pursuers on his partner's supposititious trail, but it began to look as
if they were not following Lawrence but him. His injured hand could
hardly have escaped notice, and he was not really like Lawrence, of
whom Daly would no doubt have given his agents a good description.

He wondered who was on his track, and with what object. Daly would
gain nothing by molesting him, and he could not see why the police
should take an interest in his movements, but he was being watched, and
felt uneasy. He was not sure that he had sent the last man off to
Appleby, although he hoped he had.

The train, which stopped now and then, ran across flat fields until it
entered the valley of the Esk. The valley narrowed as they sped
through the woods beside the stream, and when the line turned up the
water of Liddel bleak hills began to rise ahead. The trees and rich
cultivation were gradually left behind, the air got keener, and lonely
moors rolled down to the winding dale. It got dark as they followed
the river, and soon afterwards Foster alighted at a small station.
Nobody else left the train except two or three country people, and he
went to an inn in the straggling little town.

Next morning he set off on foot, heading northeast into the hills. He
walked leisurely, because he was going to Jedburgh, but had not made up
his mind if he would get there that night, since Pete had told him of a
farm where he could stop.

About four o'clock in the afternoon he stopped near the middle of a
barren moorland and looked round. The road ran back into the strong
yellow glow of the sunset, but it crossed a ridge about a mile off, and
there was nobody in sight. It was very rough in places, but he thought
a skillful driver could take a car over it. To the east, where the
horizon was hazy, the high ground fell away, and he thought