The inspector wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper.
"Here's his name and address. Catch the ten o'clock from the Grand Central and you'll get up there to-night."
Garth took the slip. Before placing it in his pocket he glanced it over.
"Andrew Alden," he saw. "Leave Boston from North Station on four o'clock train and get off at Deacon's Bay."
"I've heard of Mr.—" Garth began.
The inspector's quick, angry shake of the head in Nora's direction brought him to an abrupt pause. He walked to Nora and took her hand.
"Then I won't see you until after my holiday," he said with a smile.
Her eyes were vaguely uneasy.
"I agree with father," she said. "It isn't safe to walk through the dark. Won't you tell me where you're going?"
Garth's laugh was uncomfortable. He didn't pretend to understand, but his course had been clearly enough indicated.
"I'll leave that for the inspector," he answered. "I have to rush to pick up my things on the way to the train."
The uneasiness in her eyes increased.
"You know, Jim, as father says, you can turn it down. It might be wiser."
His heart responded to her anxiety. In view of her fear it was a trifle absurd that their farewell should project nothing more impulsive than a hand-
