Unobserved, I picked up the wad. Right or wrong, I was bound to see what it contained. Perhaps it might be of no earthly interest to me; on the other hand, it might contain much I would desire to know. Strange things had happened lately, and I was prepared for all sorts of surprises.
A number of the slips of paper were missing and the remainder were so crumpled that the pencil marks were nearly illegible.
At length I managed to fit one of the sheets together and then read these words:&—
C. Hholtzmann>, Chicago:
Look out for a young man claiming to&—
CHAPTER XXIII
IN CHICAGO
I had not been mistaken in my opinion of Mr. Allen Price. He was following me, and doing it with no good intention.
I concluded the man must be employed by Mr. Woodward. Perhaps I had seen him at some time in Darbyville, and so thought his face familiar.
I was glad that if he was a detective I was aware of the fact. I would now know how to trust him, and I made up my mind that if he got the best of me it would be my own fault.
One thing struck me quite forcibly. The merchant and John Stumpy both considered my proposed visit to Chris Holtzmann of importance. They would not have put themselves to the trouble and expense of hiring some one to follow me if this was not so. Though Mr. Aaron Woodward was rich, he was close, and did not spend an extra dollar except upon himself.