Their conversation was couched entirely in the slang of their order; a talk that is almost unintelligible to outsiders.
But, strangely enough, the four men were not hoboes at all; neither were they yeggmen; and the lingo they talked so glibly among themselves, although perfect in its enunciation, and in the words that were used, was entirely assumed.
For those four men were Nick Carter, the New York detective, and his three assistants, Chick, Patsy, and Ten-Ichi, a Japanese.
The president of the E. & S. W. R. R. Co. had sent for Nick Carter a week before this particular evening, and as soon as he and the detective were alone together in the president's private room, he had opened the conversation abruptly with this question:
"Carter, have you ever happened to hear of a character known as Hobo Harry, the Hobo King?"
"I have," replied the detective. "I have heard about him in a vague sort of way. I have no particular information about him, if that is what you mean."
"No; I merely wished to know if you were aware that there is such a character."
"Yes. I have heard of the fellow."
"Do you know what he is?"
"A yeggman, isn't he?"