His steps brought him close to where Owen was standing, and as he passed, the young lumberman got a square look at his face. The man was Baptiste Ducrot.
CHAPTER XXX
ULMER BALASCO SHOWS HIS HAND
"Hullo, Ducrot!"
At the sound of Owen's voice the man who was carrying the boards across the lumber yard came to a sudden halt. He looked at the speaker in astonishment and his face fell.
"So we meet again, eh?" went on Owen. "You didn't expect it—away out here, did you?"
"I—I—not know you," stammered Baptiste Ducrot, trying to recover his self-possession.
"Don't know me? Well, I know you well enough, Ducrot."
"Why you call me Ducrot? Dat ees not my name. My name Derande—Pierre Derande."