Not a point of light was visible, and settling himself against the wall
of a building, Sam started in for an all-night watch.

He understood the case at once. Chip had been knocked down by the
renegades, and, probably still insensible, had been carried to their
haunt. Knocked down, either because they had discovered his disguise, or
had suspected him.

He was now firmly convinced that if Cook was not an accomplice in the
train robbery, he was involved in something criminal, and Sam regretted
that he had not been more thorough in his investigations. Now that Chip
was in the hands of his enemies, all others sank into insignificance; so
with keen eyes and sharp ears, Sam kept his solitary vigil.

The gray dawn of the morning had taken the place of the night, and Sam,
under the shadow of a convenient shed door had heard or seen nothing
pass his post. The day grew stronger, and, chilled to the bone, the
disappointed detective left the alley and wended his way to his
boarding-house.

The cause of the sudden disappearance of the two robbers the reader is
acquainted with, and the reason Sam failed to see them again was because
they had left the house by another exit.

The widow, acting as a go-between and a fence for the light-fingered
gentry who patronized her establishment, hid her real calling with the
guise of a fortune-teller, and her house, poorly furnished, damp and
moldy when entered from the alley, was well furnished in the upper
stories.