"Maybe you'd better," assented Baker.
Bart sat down near the lantern. The bit of paper was covered with crude handwriting, the same as that which had announced to him that afternoon that the contents of the safe in the old express shed ruins were safe.
The list was not a very long one, but it was not easy to fill.
Baker gave the measurements of a very cheap cotton suit and the size of a cap with a very deep peak. He also notated a green eye-shade, a pair of goggles, and the ingredients for making a dark brown face stain.
In addition to this he wanted a dark gray hair switch, and it was easy to discern that his main idea was to prepare an elaborate disguise.
"All right," reported Bart, as he finished reading the list. "I'll have the things here just as early in the morning as I can get them. I'm going to put out the lantern, but I will then hand it over to you with some matches. It has got a shade, and you can focus the rays so they will not show outside. Here are a couple of magazines—I brought them from the house."
"You're mighty kind," said the refugee. "Hold on. I want to tell you something. Of course you think I'm acting strange. Some day, though, if things come out right, I'll explain to you, and you will say I did just right. There's another thing: you may think from my actions I am some desperate character. I hope I may burn up right in this shed to-night if I'm not telling the truth when I say to you that I never touched a dishonored penny, never harmed a soul, never did a wrong thing knowingly."
"I have confidence in your word, Mr. Baker," said Bart simply.
"Thank you, I'll prove I deserve it yet," declared the strange man.
There was a spell of silence. Finally Bart decided to venture a question on a theme he was very curious about.