plenty instead of the other way round. They were queer actin' men,
I'll have to say that."

His eyes met Barnes' and there was a queer light in them.

"You don't happen to know anything about this, do you, Mr. Barnes?" he
demanded, suddenly.




CHAPTER V

THE FARM-BOY TELLS A GHASTLY STORY AND AN IRISHMAN ENTERS


Barnes stared. "What do you mean?" he demanded sharply.

"I mean just what I said. What do you know about this business?"

"How should I know ANYTHING about it?"

"Well, we don't know who you are, nor what you're doing up here, nor
what your real profession is. That's why I ask the question."

"I see," said Barnes, after a moment. He grasped the situation and he
admitted to himself that Jones had cause for his suspicions. "It has
occurred to you that I may be a detective or a secret service man,
isn't that the case? Well, I am neither. Moreover, this man and his
companion evidently had their doubts about me, if I am to judge by