"

Again a smile swept the face of the young detective.

"It seems that you never met Dyke Darrel, Mr. Holden."

"Never; but---"

"You see him now at any rate."

"What?"

"_I_ am Dyke Darrel."

"YOU?"

"The same."

"Dyke Darrel, the railroad detective; the fellow who captured the
brute Crogan, and broke up the counterfeiters' nest near Iron
Mountain; the man who has sent more criminals over the road than any
other detective in the wide West--YOU?"

"The same, at your service," and Darrel bowed and smiled again.

"Well, I AM astonished."

Nevertheless the incredulous railway official seemed pleased at the
last, and shook the young detective warmly by the hand.

"I am glad to meet you, Mr. Darrel, and hope we can induce you to take
up this case. A great many suspects have been reported, but I take
stock in none of them. I trust the whole affair (the management of it,
I mean) to you. Will you go into it, Mr. Darrel?"

"Certainly."

Some time longer the detective and official talked, and the lamps in
the streets were lit when Dyke Darrel left the presence of Mr. Holden,
and turned his steps toward a hotel.

"I must send a line to Nell," mused the detective, as he moved along.
"I shall remain a short time in St. Louis, as I may pick up some
points here that will be of use to me. I am of the opinion that either
this city or Chicago holds the perpetrators of this latest railroad
crime."

The detective did not see the shadowy form flitting along not far
behind. A man had shadowed the detective since his departure from the
railway office. Dyke Darrel, in order to make a short cut, had entered
a narrow street, where the lights were few and the buildings dingy and
of a mean order.

Moving on, deeply wrapped in thought, the detective permitted his
"shadow" to steal upon him, and just as Dyke Darrel came opposite a
narrow alley, the shadow sprang forward and dealt him a stunning blow
on the head.

The detective reeled, but did not fall. Partially stunned, he turned
upon his assailant, only to meet the gleam of cold steel as a knife
descended into his bosom!

CHAPTER VII.

WHAT A HANDKERCHIEF REVEALED.

Dyke Darrel was so dazed from the blow he had received as to be unable
to ward off the dirk that was thrust at his bosom by the vile
assassin, and had not a third party appeared on the scene at this
critical moment the story we are now writing would never have been
told.

A kind Providence ha