fire the train.

The racing clouds melted. They gathered again. Again and again the
changes came and went. It was like one great, prolonged conflict
wherein the darkening veil strove to hide the criminal secrets upon
the earth below from the searching gaze.

For awhile the moon held sway. The river lit, a perfect mirror. Only
the shadowed banks remained. Round the bend came a trifling object,
small, uncertain in its outline. A sigh of relief went up from many
lips. The tension was relaxed.

Caught in the dazzling light the object shot across the water to the
sheltering bank. Then the clouds obscured the moonlight, and eyes
strove vainly to penetrate the shadow.

The moments passed. Again the moon shone out. Again was the object
caught in the revealing light. Now it was closer, and as it raced once
more for the wood-lined bank the watching eyes made out a deep-laden
canoe, low in the water, with a solitary figure plying a skillful
paddle.

It crept on under the bank. With a wonderful dexterity the man at the
paddle steered his course beneath the green of drooping foliage, while
now and then his narrow, evil, humorous eyes surveyed the heavy cargo
at his feet with a smile of satisfaction.

But the shadows could not claim him for long. The full stream lay
beyond in the middle of the river. His cargo was heavy, and the
sluggish water under the bank made his progress slow and arduous.
Again he sought the stream, and the lesser effort, and the little
craft raced on.

Then, of a sudden, the peace of the night was broken. A chorus of
night cries awoke to the sharp crack of a carbine. A voice shouted a
swift command, and the canoe was turned head on to the hither bank. In
a moment a ring of metal was thrust into the face of the man with the
paddle, and the hard voice of Sergeant McBain bade him throw up his
hands.

The boatman glanced swiftly about him. His evil eyes lit with a smile
of appreciation as he dropped his paddle and thrust his hands high
above his head. There were ten or twelve police troopers upon the
bank--and he was only one.

"Haul him out o' that, boys, and yank the boat up out o' water. We're
needin' his cargo bad."

The man was dragged unceremoniously from the boat, and stood before
the hard-faced sergeant.

"Name?" he snapped.

"Holy Dick," chuckled the prisoner.

The sergeant peered into his face. At the moment the clouds had
obscured the moon.

Was this the man they were waiting for? He