The detective caught at his hat.

“I wasn’t aware that I had reached an age when I couldn’t tell the difference between a reflection and a reality,” he growled, and hurried out.

The town was a small one; and Perry would see that she didn’t escape from the station.  Besides, she had fled without her hat.  Surely, with all this in his favor, he would soon be able to lay his hand upon her, if not to-night, certainly before another day was at an end.

XXIV

FLIGHT

In leaving the building Mr. Gryce almost ran into the arms of Perry.  In his anxiety to be within call, the young detective had seated himself on the steps outside and now stood ready for any emergency.

Mr. Gryce’s spirits rose as he saw him there.  The great door leading to the elevator opened not twenty feet to the left of him.  Perhaps Perry had seen the woman and could tell which way she ran.  Questions followed, rapid and to the purpose.  Perry had seen a woman flash by.  But she seemed to be in company with a man.  He had not been able to see either clearly.

“Which way were they heading?” asked Mr. Gryce.

Perry told him.

It would look as though they were making for the station.  Alarmed at the idea, Mr. Gryce stepped down into the road and endeavored to pierce the darkness in that direction.  All he could see were the station lights.  Everything else was in shadow.  The night hung over all, and had it not been for the grinding of machinery in their rear, the silence would have been just as marked.

“Perry, is the way rough between here and the station—­I mean, rough for me?”

“Not very, if you keep in the road.”

“Run ahead, then, and learn how soon the next train is due—­any train, going north or going south—­I don’t care which.  If it is soon, look for a middle-aged woman in a striped dress, and if you can’t prevent her getting on, without a fracas, follow her yourself and never quit her—­telegraphing me at the first opportunity.  Run.”

Perry gave a leap and was soon swallowed up in the darkness which was intense as soon as he had passed beyond the glare from the factory.  Mr. Gryce followed after, moving as quickly as he dared.  It was not far to the station platform, but in his anxiety it seemed a mile; nor did he breathe with ease till he saw a flying shadow come between him and the station lights and knew that Perry had reached the platform.

It was just at the hour when the fewest trains pass, and Mr. Gryce was himself across the tracks and on the platform before a far-off whistle warned him that one was approaching.  Looking hastily around, he saw Perry hurrying up behind him.

“No one,” said he.  “No such person around.”

They waited.  The train came in, stopped, took on two unimportant passengers and rushed away north.

“I’m afraid I shall have to ask you to stay here, Perry.  It would be so easy for her to board one of these night trains and buy a ticket from the conductor.”