Denman walked up town a short distance, and stopped in a well-known bar-room, and the detective again got in on a little wait.  The master of the “Nancy” did not remain long in the bar-room, and soon again appeared upon the street, when the detective approached him.

“Hello, King,” called Vance, “haven’t you gone back yet?”

The master of the “Nancy” turned and recognized the countryman whom he had called a “crank” on the train.

“Where did you come from?”

“I saw you come out of that place, and I thought I’d like to have a few words with you.”

“I have no time.”

“Oh, yes; you call spare a few moments.”

“Probably you know my business better than I do.”

“I know you’re in no hurry; you’re not going out on the island to-night.”

“I am not going out on the island to-night?”

“Well, you’re a ’no-such-thing’!”

“Come and have a beer?”

“I have no time, I tell you.”

“It will not take you a minute; and I’ve something to tell you.”

“You’ve something to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“What have you to say to me?”

“Something very important.”

“What are you giving me now?”

“Facts.  Cone along; I’ve a surprise for you.”

The master of the “Nancy” was amused and at the same time mystified.  He could not dream what the countryman could have to say to him.

“Come along,” said Vance.

“You have something to tell me?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me here.”

“No; I want to sit down.  It’s a long story.”

A curious look came over the smuggler’s face, and, for the first time, a faint suspicion crossed his mind.  “Where will we go?” he asked.

“Oh, here’s a place.”

The two men entered a beer saloon, the rear yard of which had been converted into a garden, over which an awning was stretched.  They took a seat and Denman demanded in an impatient tone: 

“Well, what have you to say to me?”

There was no one in the garden but the two men; the waiter had brought the beer and had gone away.

“You asked me what my name was on the train?”

“Yes, I did.”

“I wouldn’t tell you!”

“No.”

“Well, do you know why?”

“No.”

“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?”