Mr. Bland tore his hair in his perplexity.

“This is rank lunacy, Hood!” he cried.  “Does a train vanish into thin air in England in broad daylight?  The thing is preposterous.  An engine, a tender, two carriages, a van, five human beings—­and all lost on a straight line of railway!  Unless we get something positive within the next hour I’ll take Inspector Collins, and go down myself.”

And then at last something positive did occur.  It took the shape of another telegram from Kenyon Junction.

“Regret to report that the dead body of John Slater, driver of the special train, has just been found among the gorse bushes at a point two and a quarter miles from the Junction.  Had fallen from his engine, pitched down the embankment, and rolled among the bushes.  Injuries to his head, from the fall, appear to be cause of death.  Ground has now been carefully examined, and there is no trace of the missing train.”

The country was, as has already been stated, in the throes of a political crisis, and the attention of the public was further distracted by the important and sensational developments in Paris, where a huge scandal threatened to destroy the Government and to wreck the reputations of many of the leading men in France.  The papers were full of these events, and the singular disappearance of the special train attracted less attention than would have been the case in more peaceful times.  The grotesque nature of the event helped to detract from its importance, for the papers were disinclined to believe the facts as reported to them.  More than one of the London journals treated the matter as an ingenious hoax, until the coroner’s inquest upon the unfortunate driver (an inquest which elicited nothing of importance) convinced them of the tragedy of the incident.

Mr. Bland, accompanied by Inspector Collins, the senior detective officer in the service of the company, went down to Kenyon Junction the same evening, and their research lasted throughout the following day, but was attended with purely negative results.  Not only was no trace found of the missing train, but no conjecture could be put forward which could possibly explain the facts.  At the same time, Inspector Collins’s official report (which lies before me as I write) served to show that the possibilities were more numerous than might have been expected.

“In the stretch of railway between these two points,” said he, “the country is dotted with ironworks and collieries.  Of these, some are being worked and some have been abandoned.  There are no fewer than twelve which have small-gauge lines which run trolly-cars down to the main line.  These can, of course, be disregarded.  Besides these, however, there are seven which have, or have had, proper lines running down and connecting with points to the main line, so as to convey their produce from the mouth of the mine to the great centres of distribution.  In every case these lines are