"Well, what are you?" asked Lancaster, more and more puzzled.
"A man who can read faces and hands and tell the secrets of the future," said the other, gravely.
"Bah!" was Frank's disgusted exclamation. "A charlatan."
"Just so. A charlatan. Yet I am sufficiently interested in you to warn you against coming danger."
"Do you know me?"
"No. I don't know your name or your face, nor anything about you. I happened to be in the bar when you hit that red-headed man, and I saw that the little fellow--"
"Captain Berry?"
"Is that his name? Well, he was trying to foment the quarrel. He is your enemy."
"Nonsense! He has no cause to be my enemy."
"That is the worst kind of enemy to have--one who pretends friendship and strikes in the dark. I read your face, sir, and the face of the red-headed man. If you two meet again--" He hesitated.