Foster told him and he resumed:  “Then, if you don’t see me, stop at the Windsor, where I can telegraph, a day or two.  You’ll be repaid for any expense or inconvenience.  Well, I’m going.  Thanks!”

“Good luck!” said Foster, who sat down and opened the Witness.

Now he was alone, he began to wonder if he had been imposed upon.  The man, however, did not look like a criminal; though alarmed, he had an air of quiet authority.  In a sense, it seemed absurd that he should think himself in danger.  Violence was not common in Canada, where the carrying of weapons was prohibited, and Foster had never heard of any sensational crime on the big expresses.  Still he thought the man would not be afraid without good cause.  He did not look like a detective, and Foster felt nearly sure he had not got on board at the Crossing.  This seemed to indicate that he could not have been investigating the tragedy there, particularly since Hulton had only recovered from the shock a few days ago.  Then Hulton had stated that he meant to send for a New York man, and not that he had done so.  The fellow, however, might be a confidential agent of the Government’s, who had perhaps found out something about certain mysterious attempts to damage public property.

By and by Foster smiled.  Carmen had given him a valuable packet to take care of, and now this stranger had asked his help.  Both had stated their confidence in him, but it was getting obvious that to look as if one could be trusted had its drawbacks.  He did not feel much disturbed as he read the newspaper, which reported the arrest of two strangers with dynamite cartridges near the locks of a big canal, but presently put it down and glanced at his watch.  The ten minutes had nearly gone and he looked out of the window.  A frozen lake shimmered at the edge of the track and then, with a harsh uproar, the train plunged into the shadow of a cliff.  On the summit stunted pines cut against the sky, and Foster knew they ran from the Manitoban border to the Ottawa across as rugged and stony a wilderness as there is in the Dominion.  The stations were small and sometimes only places where the locomotives stopped for water.  He could not remember when they had passed the last.

Looking at his watch again, he saw that he had kept his promise, but decided to give the man a few more minutes, and then go to his berth, unless he could learn something about him from the conductor.  The berth was in the Pullman farther along the train, and after walking through the empty car he opened the door of a vestibule and stepped out on the platform.  It was unprotected except for a brass rail at the side, which was divided in the middle where the steps went down.  The floor jolted and a bitter wind that whistled between the vestibules buffeted him.  Although he wore the fur coat, he shivered, and as he stepped across the gap between the platforms the door behind him rattled.