porter was dashing along, the Rain-Girl keeping up with him. As she went she fumbled in her bag, obviously for her ticket. How well she walked, he decided. She passed through the barrier, the guard was looking in her direction shouting. In his hand was a green flag ready to be unfurled.
Making a dash for the barrier, Beresford shouted something about it being a matter of life or death that he should catch that train. He pushed a note into the ticket-collector's hand, dashed through and had hurled himself into a first-class compartment just as the train began to move. With a feeling of relief he noticed that the compartment was empty.
As he leaned back panting, more from excitement than loss of breath, he was conscious of a feeling of triumph. His search had not been in vain. Somewhere in that train was the Rain-Girl. He would watch carefully at each station, and where she left the train he would leave it. What luck, what astounding luck! Would she recognise him? What was he to do if
"Where for, sir?"
He looked up suddenly. A guard was looking down at him from the door leading into the corridor.
"Er—er" he began, then paused. "I haven't got a ticket. I only just caught it as it was. I told the collector I would pay on the train."
"Yes, sir, where for?" asked the guard, bringing a receipt book out of his satchel.
