"We left before you came to your senses."
"Oh, I see."
"Sorry we can't offer you any supper," said Bob. "We just ate the last of what was cooked."
"I've had my supper, thank you," was the short reply. Then the man's face grew dark, and he whipped a handkerchief from his pocket. "Will you tell me who owns that?" he asked, tossing the article over.
"Why dat's Mr. ——" began Danny, and stopped short.
"Where did the handkerchief come from?" questioned Dick slowly, hardly knowing what to say.
"It was the one I found bound around my head this morning, when I arrived at Caguas."
"I didn't put it on your head."
"Do you see the initials, R. D. M?" And catching up the handkerchief once more, Joseph Farvel pointed them out.
"What of that? They are not my initials," said Dick.