thankful I always wear my rings in a bag around my neck - even if they do get under me and keep me awake.”
The girl in blue was looking at us with wide, startled eyes. I saw her pale a little, saw the quick, apprehensive glance which she threw at her traveling companion, the small woman I had noticed before. There was an exchange - almost a clash - of glances. The small woman frowned. That was all. I turned my attention again to my patient.
She had revived somewhat, and now she asked to have the window opened. The train had stopped again and the car was oppressively hot. People around were looking at their watches and grumbling over the delay. The doctor bustled in with a remark about its being his busy day. The amateur detective and the porter together mounted guard over lower ten. Outside the heat rose in shimmering waves from the tracks: the very wood of the car was hot to touch. A Camberwell Beauty darted through the open door and made its way, in erratic plunges, great wings waving, down the sunny aisle. All around lay the peace of harvested fields, the quiet of the country.
CHAPTER VI
THE GIRL IN BLUE
I was growing more and more irritable. The thought of what the loss of the notes meant was fast crowding the murder to the back of my mind. The forced inaction was intolerable.
The porter had reported no bag answering the description of mine on the train, but I was disposed to make my own investigation. I made a tour of the cars, scrutinizing every variety of hand luggage, ranging from luxurious English bags with gold mountings to the wicker nondescripts of the day coach at the rear. I was not alone in my quest, for the girl in blue was just ahead of me. Car by car she preceded me through the train, unconscious that I was behind her, looking at each passenger as she passed. I fancied the proceeding was distasteful, but that she had determined on a course and was carrying it through. We reached the end of the train almost together - empty- handed, both of us.
The girl went out to the platform. When she saw me she moved aside, and I stepped out beside her. Behind us the track curved sharply; the early sunshine threw the train, in long black shadow, over the hot earth. Forward somewhere they were hammering. The girl said nothing, but her profile was strained and anxious.
“I - if you have lost anything,” I began, “I wish you would let me try to help. Not that my own success is anything to boast of.”
She hardly glanced at me. It was not flattering. “I have not been robbed, if that is what you mean,” she replied quietly. “I am - perplexed. That is all.”
There was nothing to say to that. I lifted my hat - the other fellow’s hat - and turned to go back to my car. Two or three members of the train crew, including the conductor, were standing in the shadow talking. And at that moment, from a farmhouse near came the swift clang of the breakfast bell, calling in the hands from barn and pasture. I turned back to the girl.
“We may be here for an hour,” I said, “and there is no buffet car on. If I remember my youth, that bell means ham and eggs and country butter and coffee. If you care to run the risk - ”
“I am not hungry,” she said, “but perhaps a cup of coffee - dear me, I believe I am hungry,” she finished. “Only - ” She glanced back of her.
“I can bring your companion,” I suggested, without enthusiasm. But the young woman shook her head.
“She is not hungry,” she objected, “and she is very - well, I know she wouldn’t come. Do you suppose we could make it if we run?”
“I haven’t any idea,” I said cheerfully. “Any old train would be better than this one, if it does leave us behind.”
“Yes. Any train would be better than this one,” she repeated gravely. I found myself watching her changing expression. I had spoken two dozen words to her and already I felt that I knew the lights and shades in her voice, - I, who had always known how a woman rode to hounds, and who never could have told the color of her hair.
I stepped down on the ties and turned to assist her, and together we walked back to where the conductor and the porter from our car were in close conversation. Instinctively my hand went to my cigarette pocket and came out empty. She saw the gesture.
“If you want to smoke, you may,” she said. “I have a big cousin who smokes all the time. He says I am ‘kippered.’”
I drew out the gun-metal cigarette case and opened it. But this most commonplace action had an extraordinary result: the girl beside me stopped dead still and stood staring at it with fascinated eyes.
“Is - where did you get that?” she demanded, with a catch in her voice; her gaze still fixed on the cigarette case.
“Then you haven’t heard the rest of the tragedy?” I asked, holding out the case. “It’s frightfully bad luck for me, but it makes a good story. You see - ”
At that moment the conductor and porter ceased their colloquy. The conductor came directly toward me, tugging as he came at his bristling gray mustache.
“I would like to talk to you in the car,” he said to me, with a curious glance at the young lady.
“Can’t it wait?” I objected. “We are on our way to a cup of coffee and a slice of bacon. Be merciful, as you are powerful.”
“I’m afraid the breakfast will have to wait,” he replied. “I won’t keep you long.” There was a note of authority in his voice which I resented; but, after all, the circumstances were unusual.
“We’ll have to defer that cup of coffee for a while,” I said to the girl; “but don’t despair; there’s breakfast somewhere.”
As we entered the car, she stood aside, but I felt rather than saw that she followed us. I was surprised to see a half dozen men gathered around the berth in which I had wakened, number seven. It had not yet been made up.
As we passed along the aisle, I was conscious of a new expression on the faces of the passengers. The tall woman who had fainted was searching my face with narrowed eyes, while the stout woman of the kindly heart avoided my gaze, and pretended to look out the window.
