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Most criminals have trouble organizing a clean shirt?
Mr. Bell, you and your Van Dorn Detective Agency will be amazed when a criminal organization spans your nation.
Suddenly, Bell was back, striding at Branco like a panther, his eyes aglow.
“Mr. Branco.”
“Did you forget something, Mr. Bell?”
“Do you recall when we met before?”
“I doubt we’ve run in the same circles.”
“Eleven years ago. I was a student.”
“Eleven years ago, I was a laborer.”
“In New Haven, Connecticut.”
“Wherever there was work.”
“I was at college in New Haven.”
“As I said, we did not run in the same circles.”
“We were running, all right. Both of us. Running from New Haven Railroad cinder dicks.”
Branco smiled. He looked intrigued. “Not in New Haven. I ran from no railroad police in New Haven.”
“North of New Haven. In the Farmington yard.”
Antonio Branco stared at Isaac Bell. He moved near and inspected him very closely. Then he stepped back and looked him up and down, hat to boots. “Incredibile!” he breathed at last. “Incredibile!”
“You remember?”
“It is incredible. Yes, I do remember. I did not get much of a look at you in the dark, but your stance is the same.”
“So is yours,” said Bell. “And your limp. Do you still carry your knife?”
“What knife?”
“The one you pulled on me.”
Branco smiled. “I recall no need to pull a knife on a college boy.”
“You did,” said Bell. “And you also pulled one on a rail cop in New Haven earlier that night.”
“No.”
“Right before you rode my train to Farmington.”
“No, Mr. Bell. I did not pull a knife on a rail cop. I did steal a ride on your train . . . I didn’t realize it was your train. I thought it belonged to the railroad.”
Bell could not help but smile back. “I borrowed it. College high jinks.”
“I guessed as much,” said Branco.
“The rail cop was attacked that same night. Did you happen to witness it?”
