landlord is about to make his exit with a cheerful "good-night," when Ashley remarks:
"By the way, have you an old coat and hat of any description?"
Carter scratches his head reflectively. "I have an old Grand Army uniform that I brought with me from the states. I was a member of the 13th Massachusetts volunteers, and after the war joined the Chelsea post, when"
"That will do very nicely," interrupts Ashley. "I want to borrow the uniform for a few hours."
"All right, sir. I'll get it out in the morning."
"But I want it to-night."
"Very good, sir. I've been too long in this business to ask questions. Used to run a small hotel in Boston," grins Carter, as he vanishes. He returns shortly with the clothes, and Ashley, after a glance, pronounces them satisfactory.
"One more request, Carter. You noticed, perhaps, among your guests a rather short, thick-set party, with a dark, closely cropped mustache."
"Smokes a short, black pipe and looks like an Englishman?"
"That's the chap. Send him up, but don't attract the attention of his companions."
Carter nods and disappears, and a few minutes later the good-natured countenance of John Barker is thrust into the room.
"Buenas tardes, Senor Parker," is Ashley's salutation. "Come in and shut the door."
"Where the devil did you come from?" demands the detective, dropping into a chair.
"Up the road a piece. I got tired of journeying through the desert, and concluded to take the back track. Fill up your pipe and make yourself sociable."
"Can't stop. It is nearly 9 o'clock and we start at that hour."
"Oh, yes; on the business you were telling me of this noon. You haven't changed your plans, then?"
"No; there was no occasion to."
