In three seconds we were on the platform standing before the second–class carriages. The doors were opened, and some passengers alighted, but not my thief. We made a search through the compartments. No sign of Arsène Lupin.
"Sapristi!" I cried, "he must have recognized me in the automobile as we were racing, side by side, and he leaped from the train."
"Ah! there he is now! crossing the track."
I started in pursuit of the man, followed by my two acolytes, or rather followed by one of them, for the other, Massol, proved himself to be a runner of exceptional speed and endurance. In a few moments, he had made an appreciable gain upon the fugitive. The man noticed it, leaped over a hedge, scampered across a meadow, and entered a thick grove. When we reached this grove, Massol was waiting fo
