“Then as you passed the door he must have seen your face, though you could not see his,” said Hulton, who turned to Percival.  “Clark was on night-guard and his name’s not Tom.  Where was he when Mr. Featherstone left?”

“In the lathe-room at the other end of the building.  The punch in the check-clock shows it,” Percival replied.

Hulton pondered, knitting his brows, before he said, “Since you thought the man was Jordan, you wouldn’t know him again.”

“No; he was about Jordan’s height and build, but I only saw his figure.  It showed dark and rather indistinct against the light.”

“Well,” said Hulton, “you see the importance of this.  We have something to go upon; a stranger was in the factory.”  Then he got up with a look of keen relief in his worn face.  “I thank you and your partner; you have given me hope.  Some day all who knew my boy will believe what you believe.  Now I have something to say to Percival, and then he must help me home to bed.”

He shook hands with them and let them go.  They left the factory in silence, but as they crossed the yard Foster remarked:  “I’m sorry for Hulton.  For all his quietness, he takes the thing very hard.”

“I imagine the fellow who shot Fred Hulton will need your pity most,” Featherstone replied.  “The old man will run him down with the determination and energy that helped him to build up his business.  Money with brains behind it is a power, but I wouldn’t like Hulton on my track if he hadn’t a cent.  There’s something relentless about the man.”  He paused and resumed:  “Well, he has a clew.  It’s curious I didn’t think of mentioning before that I spoke to the watchman, but I thought the fellow was Jordan.  I wonder how the thief will get the bonds across to Europe.”

“There would be some danger in carrying them; anyhow, he’d imagine so, although it looks as if Hulton doesn’t mean to tell the police much just yet.  Of course, there’s the mail, but the thief might be afraid to post the papers.”

Featherstone nodded.  “I think it’s in Hulton’s favor that he’ll be satisfied with one of the private detective agencies to begin with, while the man he’s looking for will be on his guard against the police.  Besides, it’s possible that the fellow won’t take many precautions, since there’s a plausible explanation of Fred Hulton’s death.”

“Do you think the man you passed saw you well enough to know you again?”

“He may have done so.”

“Then if he imagined that you saw him, it would make a difference,” Foster said thoughtfully, “He’d reckon that you were the greatest danger he had to guard against.”

Featherstone stopped and caught his comrade’s arm as the yard locomotive pushed some cars along the track they were about to cross, and the harsh tolling of the bell made talking difficult.  When the cars had passed they let the matter drop and went back to the hotel where they had left their automobile.