his friendship
for Lawrence, meant to trade on it, but Foster must try to persuade him
that he counted too much on this. The fellow played a clever game, but
it was nearly finished and Foster thought he still held a trump.

"We had better ascertain to whom the consequences would be worse," he
said. "Featherstone risks a stained name, his relations' distress, and
the loss of friends. We'll admit it, but these things can be lived
down. You risk being tried for murder and certainly for a serious
robbery. There's evidence enough to convict you of a share in the
latter."

"That is so," Daly agreed with unbroken calm. "I'm surprised you don't
see that it strengthens my demand. It's obvious that you must help me
to avoid the trial, or leave me to defend myself by doing as much
damage as possible. There's no other way."

Foster thought there was, so to speak, a middle way between the two,
but it was hateful to indicate, and while he hesitated the car lurched
as the train ran out upon a bridge. The door swung open and Daly's
face got suddenly hard. A passenger from another part of the train had
entered the car and was looking into the smoking compartment. It was
the man Foster had seen at the hotel. Next moment Daly was on his feet
and springing across the narrow floor turned to Foster with a pistol in
his hand.

"Blast you!" he said hoarsely. "You fixed this. I thought you were
straight!"

Foster understood the situation. The man in the next car was Hulton's
detective or a police official who had known that Daly was on the
train, and feeling sure of him, had resolved to watch them both. He
had probably a companion, and Daly knew the game was up. The latter's
voice had warned Foster that he was desperate. Escape was impossible;
he meant to fight, and, suspecting Foster of treachery, would shoot him
first. This flashed upon Foster in a second, and as Daly, still facing
him, opened the vestibule door, he risked a shot and sprang forward.

He heard the pistol explode and his face felt scorched, but he struck
savagely, and something rattled upon the floor. The pistol had dropped
and he was somewhat surprised to feel himself unhurt as he grappled
with Daly. They reeled through the door and fell against the rails of
the platform. Then he got a heavy blow and his grasp slackened.
Somebody ran through the smoking compartment, and while he tried to
collect his senses Daly stepped back to the gap in the rails