"Follow the express wagon down to Atlantic Basin.

I will ride on it." Standing on the steps, Braun saw the hackman drive a few doors away into the shadows of the neighboring houses and halt awaiting the baggage team.

He tightly locked the door on the inside.
"Lucky the front shop was closed for the holidays," he mused as he made a last examination of the rooms above and below.

There was nothing left to betray him.
"Leah is a cunning one," he gleefully said, as he slipped on the well-remembered brown top coat of the "pharmacist," and adjusted anew his false beard and goggles.

He felt for Clayton's useless pistol and placed it in his outside pocket.
"Overboard you go, my friend, as soon as I reach the dock." Then seizing his black valise, he passed out of the cellar entrance in the rear and clambered upon the high seat of the great luggage van.
"Where to ?" gruffly demanded the waiting driver, who, with his burly mate, was drenched with rain.
"To the Atlantic Basin," sharply said Braun.