"My carriage doesn't seem to have arrived yet," exclaimed Mr. Barton,
looking anxiously up the station approach. "If you will wait here a
moment, I will go and make inquiries."
He darted back into the booking-office and through it on to the
platform, just as the up-train roared into the station. Thorndyke
followed him with quick but stealthy steps, and, peering out of the
booking-office door, watched his proceedings; then he turned and
beckoned to me.
"There he goes," said he, pointing to an iron footbridge that spanned
the line; and, as I looked, I saw, clearly defined against the dim night
sky, a flying figure racing towards the "up" side.
It was hardly two-thirds across when the guard's whistle sang out its
shrill warning.
"Quick, Jervis," exclaimed Thorndyke; "she's off!"
He leaped down on to the line, whither I followed instantly, and,
crossing the rails, we clambered up together on to the foot-board
opposite an empty first-class compartment. Thorndyke's magazine knife,
containing, among other implements, a railway-key, was already in his
hand. The door was speedily unlocked, and, as we entered, Thorndyke ran
through and looked out on to the platform.
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