The Cape Girardeau Democrat. (Cape Girardeau, Mo.) 1876-1909, 1900-10-20
Caught the Wrong Man
By F. Young.

MES, we commercial travellers have
our fair share of odd experiences,
AN we grow case-hardened in time
But there was one occasion when l un.
consciously played a queer part in q
big affair, and whenever / travel on
this line circumstances come wildly
before my minds eye, and l experience
a strange feeling of nervousness which,
try as l will, l cannot overcome.
1t happened one night in December,
a good many years ago, when I was
young on the road. 1 was travelling by
the evening train from Euston to catch
the midnight boat at Liverpool for Bel
fast.
1 arrived at the terminus on the
stroke of the hour, and barely had time
to get my ticket and fling myself and
bag into a second smoker before the
train moved off.
There were only two other passen-
gers in the compartment, occupying
the ends of the same seat; so, with a
sigh of relief, 1 settled myself down in
a corner and prepared to enjoy a cigar
and the latest evening paper.
Before starting to read l took a look
at my fellow-passengers, for l have al
ways been fond of a chat, and can gen
orally spot alikely talker at once. How
ever, there was little prospect of any
thing of the kind, for both were mid
dle-aged men of reserved appearance,
who would hardly deign to notice a
%youngster like myself. The one oppo-
site to me. a clean-shaved man with a
professional air, was buried in his pa
per; while the other was lying back in
the far corner with his cap over his
eyes, smoking a big cigar, and appar-
emily half asleep.
We had got as far as Rugby without
a word being spoken, when l suddenly
felt my foot logged in a peculiar way
and looking up L met the keen glance
of my professional neighbor.
Excuse me, sir" said he, with an odd
smile. Would you mind exchanging
papers? 1 see you have exhausted
yours"
Certainly" said I, slightly sur
prised. and we snapped accordingly.
while he gave my toe another warning
kick.
Imagine my establishment when /
saw penciled on the margin of his paper
these words:
Keep calm. I'm a Scotland Yard
man. Our fellow-traveler is Burnside
you know who. Warrant for his ar
rest waits me at Liverpool; but may
have to secure him before we reach
there. Rely on your assistance if nee
essary. Speak to me in refreshment-
room, Stafford"
'Of counsel knew who Burnside was
everybody did then. You may remem-
Der he was Lord As secretary, who
%absconded with her ladyship's dia-
monds, and made a big stir at the time,
though the affair was hushed up after
wards.
l was pretty cool in those days, and
! read the words over and over again
before l permitted myself to take a |
peep at the redoubtable Burnside him
self. He was still smoking lazily, and
was evidently unconscious of the
proximity Of danger. For a week he
had eluded capture, and the last item
of news was that the police were still
working on a clew some days old. The
very paper l held contained a para
graph to that effect very carefully
marked in pencil by my detective
friend.
You may guess 1 was terribly ex-
cited by the time we reached Stafford,
where a five minutes stop was made;
and no sooner had the train pulled I'D
than L pocketed the paper containing
the strange message. and hurried off
to the refreshment-room. A minute
later the detective joined me, loung-
ing up in a careless style.
"Don't look round" he said; "he's
over there at the coffee counter. If
he suspects anything he'll bolt. He's
Expecting someone at Crewe, 1 fancy,
Tor he sent a wire from the telegraph