ool, I stuck it, with the bit of chain,
into my bag.

"I sat there, shivering, for what seemed hours. It was still perfectly
quiet, except for some one snoring. I thought that would drive me crazy.

"The more I thought of it the worse things looked. The telegram was the
first thing against me--it would put the police on my track at once,
when it was discovered that the man in lower ten had been killed.

"Then I remembered the notes, and I took out the wallet and opened it."

He stopped for a minute, as if the recalling of the next occurrence was
almost beyond him.

"I took out the wallet," he said simply, "and opening it, held it to the
light. In gilt letters was the name, Simon Harrington."

The detectives were leaning forward now, their eyes on his face.

"Things seemed to whirl around for a while. I sat there almost
paralyzed, wondering what this new development meant for me.

"My wife, I knew, would swear I had killed her father; nobody would be
likely to believe the truth.

"Do you believe me now?" He rooked around at us defiantly. "I am telling
the absolute truth, and not one of you believes me!

"After a bit the man in lower nine got up and walked along the aisle
toward the smoking compartment. I heard him go, and, leaning from my
berth, watched him out of sight.

"It was then I got the idea of changing berths with him, getting into
his clothes, and leaving the train. I give you my word I had no idea of
throwing suspicion on him."

Alison looked scornfully incredulous, but I felt that the man was
telling the truth.

"I changed the numbers of the berths, and it worked well. I got into
the other man's berth, and he came back to mine. The rest was easy. I
dressed in his clothes--luckily, they fitted--and jumped the train not
far from Baltimore, just before the wreck."

"There is something else you must clear up," I said. "Why did you try
to telephone me from M-, and why did you change your mind about the
message?"

He looked astounded.

"You knew I was at M-?" he stammered.

"Yes, we traced you. What about the message?"

"Well, it was this way: of course, I did not know your name, Mr.
Blakeley. The telegram said, 'Man with papers in lower ten, car seven,"
and after I had made what I considered my escape, I began to think I had
left the man in my berth in a bad way.

"He would probably be accused of the crime. So, although when the wreck
occurred I supposed every one connected with the affair