Part 12 (1/2)
”We can try that to-morrow, when we are among the hills,” said d.i.c.k, and by a vote it was decided to stay in Harpertown for supper.
They put up their horses at the livery stable attached to the hotel, and then went to the lavatory to wash up. On coming out and going to the general room of the hostelry, d.i.c.k ran into a man who looked familiar to him.
”Why, how do you do, Mr. Monday?” he cried, and put out his hand.
The man looked startled at being addressed so unexpectedly. Then he recognized d.i.c.k, and smiled faintly.
”How do you do, d.i.c.k Rover?” he said. ”I didn't expect to run across you down here.”
”Are you at work here, Mr. Monday?”
”Hus.h.!.+ Please do not mention my name,” said James Monday hastily. He was a detective who had once done some work for d.i.c.k's father, after which he had given up his private practice to take a position with the United States Government.
”All right, just as you please.” d.i.c.k lowered his voice. ”I suppose you are on a case down here?”
James Monday nodded.
”Can I help you in any way?”
”I think not, Rover. Where are you bound?”
”To a plantation about a hundred miles from here,” and the eldest Rover gave a few particulars.
”Well, I wish you luck,” said the government detective. ”Now, do me a favor, will you?” he asked earnestly. ”Don't act as if you know me, and don't tell anybody who I am.”
”I'll comply willingly.”
”If your brothers recognize me, ask them to do the same.”
”I will.”
”I am looking up some rascals and I don't want them to get on to the fact that I am a detective.”
”I understand.”
At that moment a heavy-set individual with a shock of bushy hair came slouching in. At once James Monday took his departure, the newcomer gazing after him curiously.
d.i.c.k waited a moment, and then rejoined Sam and Tom.
”d.i.c.k, we just caught sight of a man we know,” said Sam. ”Can you guess whom?”
”Mr. Day-of-the-week,” put in Tom.
d.i.c.k put up his hand warningly.
”Don't mention that to a soul,” he whispered. ”I was just talking to him. He is here on special business, and he wants n.o.body to know him.”
”Then we'll be as mum as a mouse in a cheese,” answered Sam.
”Correct,” joined in Tom. ”But what's his game?”