"What is it you want?" demanded the detective shortly.

"THIS!"

With the word, the man lunged forward. Divining his movement, d.y.k.e Darrel sank suddenly to the steps, and his a.s.sailant plunged headlong from the train!

CHAPTER IX.

WORDS THAT STARTLE.

It seemed a terrible plunge into eternity. Not for one moment did the detective lose his presence of mind, however. Straightening, he reached up and grasped the bell-cord.

Ere many seconds the train came to a stop.

"Man on the track," said d.y.k.e Darrel when the conductor came hurrying to see what was the trouble.

Lanterns were at once brought into requisition, and men went back to look for the body of the detective's a.s.sailant.

No one imagined that he could possibly plunge from the speeding train and escape death. d.y.k.e Darrel moved along confidently expecting to look upon the bruised corpse of the outlaw who had attempted his destruction.

He met with disappointment.

No man was found.

"He must have been a tough one to have jumped the train without receiving a scratch," said a voice in the ear of the detective, as he flashed the rays of a lantern down on the track.

d.y.k.e Darrel glanced at the speaker, a gentleman with enormous red beard, and rather worn silk hat.

This was the detective's first introduction to Professor Ruggles.

"I've no doubt of his being tough," answered d.y.k.e Darrel.

"How did it happen?"

"I think the fellow intended to throw me off the train."

"Goodness! is that so? What was the trouble about?"

"No trouble that I am aware of. I did not know the man."

"Then it's likely he mistook you for some one else."

d.y.k.e Darrel eyed the speaker keenly. There seemed to be nothing suspicious about the Professor, however, and soon after the detective dismissed him from his mind.

"All aboard!" shouted the conductor, a little later, and soon the train was speeding northward at a rapid rate.

d.y.k.e Darrel went into the rear car, and sat down to meditate on his adventure. He realized that his death had been planned by enemies to law and order, and he believed by the ones who were anxious to throw him off the trail of the outlaws who perpetrated the crime on the midnight express a few nights before.

It did not seem possible that the man who had attempted to throw him from the train, and had gone over himself, had escaped unharmed.

Doubtless, though badly hurt, he had managed to drag himself away from the immediate vicinity of the track, where he had remained secreted until the brief search was over.

Since his fall was unexpected, it was not likely that any of the villain's friends were in the vicinity, and so it might be an easy matter to trace the outlaw. d.y.k.e Darrel formed a plan of operation at once, and rose to leave the train at the next stop.

"Do you get off here?"

d.y.k.e Darrel was somewhat surprised to see Harper Elliston on the platform of the little station.

"I stop here," said d.y.k.e. "And you?"

"I thought of going to Chicago."

"Postpone your trip then. I wish to consult with you on a matter of importance."

The tall gentleman hesitated.

The train began to move.

"You must decide quickly," cried the detective.

Elliston walked the length of the narrow platform, with his hand on the car rail, his satchel in the other hand. His hand fell from the rail, and the express swept swiftly away in the darkness.

"Anything to accommodate, d.y.k.e. I had some business of importance to transact in Chicago, but it can wait."

"I am sorry if I put you to extra expense, Harper, but I wish to consult with one whom I can trust. I've got a devilish mean work on hand," said d.y.k.e Darrel in an explanatory tone.

"You know I am always ready to a.s.sist you, d.y.k.e. Is it a criminal case?"

"Yes; the last on record."

"The express crime?"

"Yes."

"I mistrusted as much. You have been down the road?"

"To St. Louis!"

"Exactly."

"I took a young offender down who escaped from prison last winter. I think the officers will look after him more closely in the future."

"Who was it?"

"Martin Skidway."