back, with closed eyes. She choked, coughed, and
rallied somewhat.

"Poor thing," said the stout lady. "As she lies back that way I could
almost think it was my mother; she used to faint so much."

"It would make anybody faint," chimed in another. "Murder and robbery in
one night and on one car. I'm thankful I always wear my rings in a bag
around my neck--even if they do get under me and keep me awake."

The girl in blue was looking at us with wide, startled eyes. I saw her
pale a little, saw the quick, apprehensive glance which she threw at her
traveling companion, the small woman I had noticed before. There was an
exchange--almost a clash--of glances. The small woman frowned. That was
all. I turned my attention again to my patient.

She had revived somewhat, and now she asked to have the window opened.
The train had stopped again and the car was oppressively hot. People
around were looking at their watches and grumbling over the delay.
The doctor bustled in with a remark about its being his busy day. The
amateur detective and the porter together mounted guard over lower ten.
Outside the heat rose in shimmering waves from the tracks: the very wood
of the car was hot to touch. A Camberwell Beauty darted through the open
door and made its way, in erratic plunges, great wings waving, down the
sunny aisle. All around lay the peace of harvested fields, the quiet of
the country.

CHAPTER VI. THE GIRL IN BLUE

I was growing more and more irritable. The thought of what the loss of
the notes meant was fast crowding the murder to the back of my mind. The
forced inaction was intolerable.

The porter had reported no bag answering the description of mine on the
train, but I was disposed to make my own investigation. I made a tour
of the cars, scrutinizing every variety of hand luggage, ranging from
luxurious English bags with gold mountings to the wicker nondescripts of
the day coach at the rear. I was not alone in my quest, for the girl in
blue was just ahead of me. Car by car she preceded me through the train,
unconscious that I was behind her, looking at each passenger as she
passed. I fancied the proceeding was distasteful, but that she had
determined on a course and was carrying it through. We reached the end
of the train almost together--empty-handed, both of us.

The girl went out to the platform. When she saw me she moved aside, and
I stepped out beside her. Behind us the track curved sharply; the early
suns