I remained polite. "How would you have started?" I asked courteously. "Something like this? 'Good afternoon, Miss Wellington or whatever your real name is. I suspect you're a crook but for the moment don't place you. Now if you'll just tell me'"
"Drop it," said Dib, not agreeably.
I obliged.
"Now forget the start," he told me. "What did you get to?"
"Oh," I said. "I found one thing out you want to know. They're getting off at Cleveland."
"What makes you think so?"
"She told me so."
Old "Iron Age" gazed fixedly out of the window with the thought in his head (if his expression meant anything) of pulling the cord to stop the train if we happened to be passing an institution for the feeble-minded; but all was farm scenery, so I was safe.
"Thank you so much," he said to me feelingly. "It was always possible that they would try to escape at Cleveland; so it is of some advantage to know they're going on."
He released me after a few more words and I went to my section. I had his permission to
