“Very well,” replies Jack, abstractedly.
Promptly at ten, Ashley repairs below, and as he enters the cabin he finds Ames and Van Zandt there. They look at him questioningly, but before he has opportunity to say more than “Good-morning,” Barker enters, closes the door and locks it.
Ames flushes angrily. “So,” he says, “it is at your request that I am here?”
“It is,” replies the detective, calmly.
“What do you mean, sir, by inviting me to this place and locking the door upon me?”
“I simply do not wish to be disturbed,” is Barker’s unruffled response. “The cruiser America is now United States territory. I have business with you, Mr. Ames. Gentlemen, will you not be seated?”
CHAPTER LIX.
“WRITTEN BY THE HAND OF FATE.”
“You are a detective,” murmurs Derrick Ames, as he drops back into his chair.
“I am,” answers Barker. “For nearly a year I have been on the track of the murderer of Roger Hathaway, being ably seconded in my quest by my friend Jack Ashley. The trail has been a tangled one, and has wound under the flags of three countries, but for the past fortnight the end has been clearly in view. By a remarkable combination of circumstances affairs have been so precipitated that to-day nearly all the living characters in the Raymond drama are upon this vessel, the United States cruiser America. My work is done. I have only my story to tell. I shall begin, Mr. Ames, by asking you a few questions,” resumes Barker.