The detective, meantime, was happy, and at the moment little
dreamed of the terrible tragedy that had occurred, and which,
strangely enough, but awaited his unraveling.
The half hour glided by, and at length the smuggler captain
and the detective boarded the train.
CHAPTER XXIX.
The detective acted well his part, and attracted little
attention from the master of the "Nancy," until the latter,
for lack of something better to do, took a seat beside our
hero.
"On your way to the city?"
"Yes."
"Do you go there often?"
"No."
"You live at G-----?"
"No."
"Where do you live?"
"On the island."
"You live on the island?"
"Yes."
"I often go to the island; don't remember ever having seen
you."
"I've been off on a trip."
"A trip?"
"Yes."
"Where to?"
"Connecticut."
The master of the "Nancy" laughed, and said:
"Do you call that a trip?"
"Yes; I was away from the island two years."
"What's your name?"
The countryman looked the master of the "Nancy" all over,
winking knowingly, and said:
"You cannot come that over me!"
"Come what over you?"
"Oh, I'm no fool! I know how you Yorkers work the trains."
"You know how we Yorkers work the trains?"
"Yes."
"What do we work them for?"
"Suckers; but I'm no fool! You can't come any of your smart
games over me. I've lived a couple of years in Hartford; I'm
posted!"
"So you think I'm a Yorker?"
"Of coarse I do."
"What makes you think so?"
"You look like one.
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