only concession she made to the reaction was a quick tapping of her fingers on the window ledge.
"Better sit down, too, Garth," the inspector advised. "Your legs ought to be shaky."
Garth obeyed, laughing nervously.
"I've been trying to hide it."
He turned to Nora.
"I'd like to know how you changed the bottles."
"I only arranged the most likely opportunity," she answered. "I knew something must happen to make Slim forget that acid for a moment. It had to be bigger, more immediate than the fear of capture. Everybody has a dread of railroad accidents. Own up, Jim. You were scared yourself when the brakes set."
He nodded.
"You sized us up right. For that minute I was about as afraid of the wreck as I was of the acid, and I was trussed like a fowl."
"So," she went on, "I persuaded them in New York to furnish an illusion of the beginnings of a wreck. It was simple. Slim would almost certainly take his hands from the bottle then. He wouldn't risk having it broken over him in the smash. But if it hadn't worked out right, Jim, you know I'd never have let the others come in. You see they were with father in the dark sleeping car ahead. Father watched from the vestibule. When I chose my moment—you remember, I was going along the aisle close to you—he gave the engineer and the
