Leaning forward to watch him out of sight, I trod upon something which
proved to be a cigar-case. It had fallen, no doubt, from the pocket
of his water-proof coat, and was made of dark morocco leather, with
a silver monogram upon the side. I sprang out of the carriage just as
the guard came up to lock me in.
"Is there one minute to spare?" I asked eagerly. "The gentleman who
travelled down with me from town has dropped his cigar-case; he is not
yet out of the station!"
"Just a minute and a half, sir," replied the guard. "You must be quick."
I dashed along the platform as fast as my feet could carry me. It was
a large station, and Mr. Dwerrihouse had by this time got more than
half-way to the farther end.
I, however, saw him distinctly, moving slowly with the stream. Then,
as I drew nearer, I saw that he had met some friend,--that they were
talking as they walked,--that they presently fell back somewhat from
the crowd, and stood aside in earnest conversation. I made straight
for the spot where they were waiting.
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