murder case in New York. It appeared that they were to be disappointed. When the last of the Bayport passengers had left the train Fenton Hardy was not among them.
"We'll come back and meet the local," said Frank at last.
The brothers were about to turn away and retrace their steps down the platform when they saw a tall, well-dressed stranger swing himself down from the steps of the nearest coach. He was a man of about thirty, dark and clean-shaven, and he hastened over toward them.
"I want to pay a fellow a dollar out of this five," remarked the stranger, as he came up to the boys. "Can you change the bill?"
At the same time he produced a five dollar bill from his pocket and held it out inquiringly. He was a pleasant-spoken young man and he was evidently in a hurry.
"I could try the lunch room, I suppose, but there's such a crowd that I'll have trouble being waited on," he explained, the bill fluttering in his hands.
Frank looked at his brother and began feeling in his pockets.
"I've got three dollars, Joe. How about you?"
Joe dug up the loose change in his possession. There was a dollar bill, a fifty-cent piece and three quarters.
