s dead girl?"

Dyke Darrel pointed toward the face in the coffin.

"I did not."

"Will you swear to this also?"

"With my hand on my heart I swear."

The white hand of Mr. Elliston was laid impressively against his
bosom.

There was such a look of honest earnestness on the man's face it was
impossible to doubt, and Dyke Darrel was forced to forego arresting
the New Yorker then and there.

If he was not fully satisfied, he did not permit Elliston to note the
fact.

"I did but try you, Harper," Dyke Darrel said with a smile, extending
his hand. "You are true as steel and I am glad to find it so. I have
endured misery since last night, because I feared, and came to believe
otherwise."

"You will trust me as of old?"

"Yes."

"Thanks. Now tell me all about the facts regarding this poor girl."

Dyke Darrel did as requested, although he kept back some things that
he did not deem it necessary for Mr. Elliston to know.

"And you saw this Hubert Vander peering into the cabin window--the man
who looks like me!"

"I did."

"Well, it's pretty tough, and no mistake, to have a fellow of such
villainous character circulating about in this region. I hope I won't
be hung for his crime by indignant citizens. I agree with you that
this Hubert Vander is a sleek villain, and that hanging is too good
for him. It does seem that you made an important discovery last night,
however."

"Explain."

"This man Vander no doubt murdered Captain Osborne."

"I am led to think so myself," said Dyke Darrel.

"He also jilted the Captain's daughter, if no worse, and the two
sorrows turned the poor girl's brain. It is a sad and terrible case. I
feel deeply interested, and hope to see the scoundrel who looks like
me brought to justice."

"I am glad to hear you say so."

"Furthermore I have another idea."

"Proceed."

"It is undoubtedly this Vander who planned the robbery of the midnight
express. A man who could deceive one so beautiful as this girl, would
not hesitate to do anything to feather his own nest."

"Again I agree with you."

"Evidently it was either this man, or friends of his, who fastened the
door of the cabin, and fired it with the hope of destroying the
detective who was dogging them so closely."

"True, I had thought of that."

"And here's another thing."

"Well?"

"May not this Vander and his friends conclude that the man-hunter
perished in the flames, if they fail to see him again? A disguise
would