"
I stepped into the carriage. Dicky Nahl closed the door softly and
climbed on the seat by the driver, and in a moment we were rolling up
Broadway in the gloomy stillness of the early morning hour.
CHAPTER XXIX
THE HEART OF THE MYSTERY
In the tumult of conflicting thoughts that assailed me as we entered on
the last stage of our journey, the idea of the perils that might lie
ahead fixed my attention for the moment, and I began to feel alarm for
the safety of my companion.
"Mrs. Knapp," I said; "there is no need for you to take this journey.
You had better stop in Oakland for the rest of the night."
"I must go," she replied.
"There is danger," I argued. "You should not expose yourself to the
chances of a brush with the enemy. It is a wet, cold ride, and there
may be bullets flying at the end of it."
Mrs. Knapp gave a shudder, but she spoke firmly.
"I could not rest--I could not stay away. It may be important that I
should be there--it will be important if we find the boy. You do not
know him. Mr. Nahl does not know him."
"None of my men seems to know him," I interrupted; "that is, if one may
judge by the way they were all taken in on the boy you sent to
Livermore."
"I think none of them ever saw his face, though some of them were with
Henry Wilton when he first took the boy, and afterward."
"The enemy seem to know him," said I, remembering the scene at
Livermore.
"Terrill knows him. I think none of the other agents could be certain
of his face, unless it is Mr.
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