I rode to Kennisburg this morning and proved it.

The station man remembers selling Radnor Gaylord a ticket to Washington in the middle of the night about three weeks ago.

Some man who waited outside and whose face the agent did not see, boarded the train, and Rad drove off alone.

The ticket seller does not know Rad personally but he knows him by sight--so much for that.

Rad came home and went to bed.