"
"You ought to know my name; you and I have met before; can't
you tell where?"
The detective all the time had preserved his rustic tones and
demeanor.
"You and I have met before?"
"Yes."
"When and where?"
"Several times."
"Where?"
"Ah, you must guess."
"The master of the "Nancy" studied the detective's face.
"I do not remember ever having seen you before."
"Nonsense."
"You are having some fun at my expense."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes."
"Well, I am in dead earnest."
"Where did we meet before?"
"The last time we met I promised you we would meet again."
A fierce look shot into Denman's eyes as he permitted his
glance to roam around the garden.
He was studying what the chances would be under certain
contingencies.
"As I don't know you, do you know me?"
"You told me your name was King."
"Is that my name?"
"No."
"What is my name?"
"Denman," came the answer in a low, firm tone. The master of
the "Nancy" turned deadly pale. Ho realized that something
was up, and it came to him that the seeming countryman after
all, was a man as keen and resolute as himself.
"You say my name is Denman?"
"Yes."
"You are sure?"
"I am."
"What's my business?"
"You're the master of the 'Nancy'."
Denman made a certain significant motion with his hand, when
the detective whispered:
"Don't!"
There was a world of significance in that little word "Don't!"
"Who are you?"
"Can't you guess?"
"I'm not guessing to-day.
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