"Might I ask your name?" he said at length.
"What do you want 'to know that for?" returned Tom.
"Because you look so wonderfully like my son Bud—an' you talk like him, too. But Bud's skin is a bit darker nor yours."
"My name is Tom Rover."
"Talking about looking alike," broke in Fred. "There's a strong resemblance," and he pointed to the detective and the old man. "Of course, you don't look quite so old," he added to James Monday.
"I am glad that you think we look alike," smiled back the government official. "I was banking on that."
"What do you mean?" came from Songbird.
"I will show you in a minute. Mr. Cashaw, I'll trouble you to exchange hats, coats and collars with me," the detective continued, turning to the old man.
The latter did not understand, but gave up his wearing apparel a moment later, and soon James Monday was wearing them. Then the detective rubbed a little dirt on his hands and face and, with a black pencil he carried, gave himself a few marks around the mouth and eyes.
"How do you do, boys?" he called out, in exact imitation of Bill Cashaw.