“It doesn’t seem possible that that finely-dressed, well-groomed man is really the one who talked with us out on the river at Cairo, and who afterwards captured the Rambler by holding a gun about the size of a cannon on me,” Clay declared.
“And the man who bespoke kind treatment for Chet, the waif,” Alex. went on. “I guess we’re both seeing things not present to the senses! There ain’t no such man!”
“It can’t be!” Clay tried to convince himself. “It can’t be the same man!”
Yet he knew deep down in his heart that it was the same man! If there had been any doubt of the complete identification at the start, there was none when the man spoke to the cashier in the full, deep voice which Clay knew that he had heard while he was tied up in the cabin of the Rambler!
“I have heard that river thieves sometimes make up to look like bankers and high-up politicians,” Alex. whispered.
“And I have heard that bankers and high-up politicians occasionally assume the disguises of river characters for some purpose of their own,” Clay returned.
“Do they mix with murderers and steal motor boats when they do that?” asked Alex., with a provoking snicker. “’Cause if they do, this may be one of the high-ups!”
“He must recognize us,” Clay went on. “Watch and see if you catch in him any signs of joy at the meeting!”
“He hasn’t yet shown that he knows we are in the room,” Alex. replied.
“There’s one way to find out who he is,” Clay suggested. “When he leaves here, you follow him until he enters some house or office and ask questions about him after he goes on. I’ll do the same here—that is, I’ll see what the cashier knows about him.”