s."

"I won't overlook that," promised the chief of police. "And I'll send
out a general alarm at once."

By the time that the submarine boy left the railway station again
Farnum and Pollard were out of sight. Nevertheless, Benson hurried
off up the same street they had taken.

He walked quickly for two blocks, then, coming to a larger street that
crossed at right angles, he started to turn and go east. Just as he
rounded the corner he thought he heard something strike the sidewalk,
as though it had dropped from his pockets.

Wheeling quickly, the submarine boy returned to the corner. He was
just in time to see something that took his thoughts like a flash from
everything else.

Near the doorway of a small clothing store, two doors from the corner,
a man had been looking stealthily out. Just as Jack turned the corner,
out of sight, this man darted out, then slowed down to a deliberate
walk in the direction of the railway station.

It was this man at whom Jack Benson found himself staring with all his
eyesight. The man was dressed in a rather fastidious-looking summer
weight frock coat suit. On his head rested an expensive straw hat of
the latest sort. Over his eyes were light blue goggles. His hair was
jet black.

"But that's a wig!" flashed Jack Benson, inwardly, almost at once.
"That's Arthur Miller, just the same. He has the same walk as the
steward!"

Though the other had had a brief chance for a glimpse at Benson just
as he turned, the well dressed one did not increase his pace--that is,
not until he heard Captain Jack's swift steps behind him.

"Oh, just a minute, if you please!" called Benson, in a voice that
was ironically pleasant.

One look over his shoulder the other took, then broke into a run.

But Jack was younger, more agile, with better wind. Realizing this, the
fugitive wheeled around the corner into an alley.

It was a short one, leading to some sort of a stable yard. Yet, though
Jack Benson reached that yard in about record time, he gave a gasp of
dismay. For the well-dressed fugitive was already out of sight, nor
did noise from any quarter show the line of his further flight.

"Confound him, I'm not going to lose him as quickly and easily as
that!" raged young Benson.

"Looking for your pop?" demanded a laughing, broad-faced woman,
appearing at a back door that opened into the yard.

"Yes," declared Jack, pulsing. "Which way--"

"He went in there," nodded the woman,