With no appearance of haste, Mr. Parker sauntered into the telegraph office. Deliberately taking a place at the counter close beside the man in gray, he pretended to write a message. Actually, he studied his companion, and attempted to read the lengthy telegram which the other had composed. Before he could do so, the man handed the paper to a girl clerk.
“Get this off right away,” he instructed. “Send it collect.”
The clerk examined the message, having difficulty in reading the writing.
“This night letter is to be sent to Anthony Parker?” she inquired.
“That’s right,” the man agreed.
Mr. Parker waited for no more. Touching the man on the arm, he said distinctly:
“I’ll save you the trouble of sending that message. I am Anthony Parker.”
The man whirled around, his face plainly showing consternation.
“You are Ben Bowman I assume,” Mr. Parker said coolly. “I’ve long looked forward to meeting you.”
“You’ve got me mixed up with someone else,” the man mumbled, edging away. “My name’s Clark Edgewater. See, I signed it to this telegram.”