away their savings. Tom's eyes darted anxiously about in search
of Steve and he wondered how soon the smooth-voiced stranger would call
him by name or ask after the folks in Tannersville. He hadn't long to
wait!

"It's a great game," pursued the other. Then, after a short pause: "Say,
I've met you before, haven't I? Your face looks familiar."

"No," answered Tom shortly, digging his feet convulsively against the
bulging sides of the bags on the floor.

"My mistake, then. I thought perhaps you were from Tannersville,
Pennsylvania."

Tom almost jumped, although he had been expecting some such remark. It
was, he reflected agitatedly, absolutely marvellous the way these
fellows learned things! In a moment the fellow would tell him his name!

The fellow didn't, though. He only said:

"Tannersville is a fine town. Ever been there?"

Tom shook his head energetically. "Never!" he fibbed.

"Oh!" The confidence-man--for Tom had fully decided that such he
was--seemed disappointed. But he wasn't discouraged. "Which way are you
travelling?" he asked.

Tom did a lot of thinking then in a fragment of a minute.

"Philadelphia," he blurted.

"Philadelphia! Why, say, you're in the wrong station. You ought to go to
the Pennsylvania Terminal. I guess you're a stranger here, eh? Tell you
what I'll do. You come with me and I'll put you on a car that'll take
you right there."

"I--I've got to wait for a friend," muttered Tom desperately, sending an
appealing glance toward the policeman who had now begun to saunter
slowly away.

"That so? Well----" The other got up with a glance at the clock and
reached down for his suit-case. Tom's gaze followed the direction of
that hand closely. It was, he thought, odd that a confidence-man should
carry a suit-case, but that might be only an attempt to avert suspicion.
The bag held the inscription "A. L. M., Orange, N. J." Probably the bag
had been stolen. Tom fixed that inscription firmly in his mind. "I'll
have to be going," said "A. L. M." "Sorry I can't be of assistance to
you, kid. I thought that maybe if you were going my way, out to
Brimfield, I could give you a hand with your bags."

Tom gasped! How did he know about Brimfield?

"Thanks," he muttered. "I--I'll get on all right." Standing there in
front of him "A. L. M." looked very youthful to be such a deep-dyed
villain and Tom felt a bit sorry for him. But the villain was smiling
broadly and, as it seemed to Tom, a trifle mockin