"He is trailing Peter Ames."
"Ship Peter to-morrow," advised Sprouse promptly.
"I had already thought of doing so," said Barnes, surprised by the uncanny promptness of the man in hitting upon the strategy he had worked out for himself after many harassing hours. "He goes to my sister's place to-morrow morning."
"Send him by train. He will be easier to follow. There is a train leaving for the south at 9:15."
"You were saying that before morning you would—"
"Be careful! Don't whisper. People don't whisper to utter strangers. Step over here by the front door. Would you be surprised if I were to tell you that his royal nibs is hiding in this town? Well, he certainly is. He bought a railway ticket for Albany at Hornville the day he beat it, but he got off at the second station,—which happens to be this one."
"How can you be sure of all this?"
"Simple as falling off a log," said Sprouse, squinting over his shoulder. "The Baroness Hedlund has been here for a week or ten days. The Baron wasn't so far wrong in his suspicions, you see. He lost track of her, that's all. I happened to overhear a conversation at Hart's Tavern between him and his secretary. I have a way of hearing things I'm not supposed to hear, you know. By a curious coincidence I happened to be taking the air late one night just outside his window at the Tavern,—on the roof of the porch, to be accurate. I told Ugo what I'd heard and he nearly broke his neck trying to head her off. O'Dowd and De Soto rushed over to Hornville and telegraphed for her to leave the train at the first convenient place and return to New York. She was on her way up here, you see. She got off at Crowndale and everybody supposed that she had taken the next train home. But she didn't do anything of the kind. She is a silly, obstinate fool and she's crazy about Ugo,—and jealous as fury. She hated to think of him being up here with other women. A day or so later she sent him a letter. No one saw that letter but Ugo, and—your humble servant.
"I happened to be the one to go to Spanish Falls for the mail that day. The postmark excited my curiosity. If I told you what I did to that letter before delivering it to Mr. Loeb, you could send me to a federal prison. But that's how I came to know that she had decided to wait in Crowndale until he sent word that the coast was clear. She went to the big sanatorium outside the town and has been there ever since, incognito, taking a cure for something or other. She goes by the name of Mrs. Hasselwein. I popped down here this afternoon and found out that she is still at the sanatorium but expects to leave early to-morrow morning. Her trunks are over at the station now, to be expressed to Buffalo. I made another trip out there this evening and waited. About eight o'clock Mr. Hasselwein strolled up. He sat on the verandah with her for half an hour or so and then left. I followed him. He went to one of the little cottages that belong to the sanatorium. I couldn't get close enough to hear what they said, but I believe he expects to take her away in an automobile early in the morning. It is a seventy mile ride from here to the junction where they catch the train for the west. I'm going up now to make a call on Mr. Hasselwein. Would you like to join me?"
Barnes eyed him narrowly. "There is only one reason why I feel that I ought to accompany you," he said. "If you have it in your mind to kill him, I certainly shall do everything in my power to prevent—"