"Well, what else happened?" inquired Tom.
"Not much more. I apologized to the man, and he to me, and we let go of each other."
"Are you sure about the ring on his finger?"
"Positive. His hand was right in the light. But wait, that isn't all. I hurried on, not thinking much about it, when, I saw another man step out of the dark shadows of Peterby's grocery, just beyond the bank. The man must have mistaken me for some one else, for he spoke to me."
"What did he say?"
"He asked me a question. It was: 'Is there any chance to-night?'"
"What did you tell him?"
"Well, I was so surprised that I didn't know what to say, and, before I could get my wits together the man had seen his mistake and hurried on. He joined the man I had collided with, and the two skipped off in the darkness. But not before a third man had come across the street, from in front of the bank, and hurried off with them."
"Well?" asked Tom, as his chum paused.
"I don't know what to think," resumed Ned. "These men were certainly acting suspiciously, and, now that you tell me the Anson Morse gang is not locked up—well, it makes me feel that these men must be some of their crowd."
