"By the powers, old man, I see how it looks to you;" he cries, "an' ye've got the thing by the right end at last. I'll go to New Orleans; only say when. But," here his face lengthens a little, "ye must get Wyman, or some one else, here in my place. I wish we had got that horse rendezvous hunted down."
"As to that," I respond, "give yourself no uneasiness; I believe that I have found the right place, and to-night I mean to confirm my suspicion."
Carnes stares astonished.
"How did you manage it?" he asks, "and when?"
"Two days ago, and by accident. You will be surprised, Carnes. It is a barn."
"It is?"
"A lead-colored barn, finished in brown."
"What?"
"It is large, and nearly square," I hasten to say, enjoying his marked amazement. "A large stack of hay is pitched against the rear end, running the length of it. It has a cupola and a flagstaff."