“Jack,” he cried in English, when he caught sight of the lad in the doorway. “What are you doing here?”
“I came with a couple of friends,” Jack replied, “and we are looking for a place to spend the night. Can you accommodate us?”
“Certainly,” was the reply. “Come right in.”
The three entered the house and followed the old man to what appeared a small dining-room. There their host left them, saying that he would have something to eat brought them.
“He’s about the only white man in the town,” Jack explained. “He has lived here for many years. As you see, his house is unlike the native dwellings. He keeps up European customs as well as he can.”
Soon the old man returned, followed by a native servant, bearing food. The three ate hungrily, and immediately their appetites were satisfied followed the old man upstairs, where he showed them a couple of cots. They turned in immediately and soon were fast asleep.
“Where are you to meet your companions?” Frank asked the secret agent, when they had breakfasted the next morning.
“No particular spot was designated,” was the reply. “I was told to meet them in this town, that’s all. I suppose I shall run into them in the street some place.”
The three walked about the streets all morning, and were just about to return to the house where they had spent the night, when a white man in yachting costume approached.
Hetherington rushed up to him with outstretched hand. Frank and Jack stood back.