"Positive."
"When and where can I see this man?"
"He works in the shops of the Louisiana and Texas Railroad over in Algiers. You can find him through the foreman."
"Mr. Sefton, it may be that you have given me information which will be of service to me. If so you will not regret it. I will myself examine into the matter. For the present, if I do not make a confident of you, you must attribute it to caution rather than to distrust."
"Oh, I am not easily offended. I would act in the same manner in your place. But you will find that I am your friend. You can count on me to aid you on demand. I won't trouble you again till you send for me. A note to head-quarters will reach me quickest. Good-morning."
"Good-morning, Mr. Sefton, and thank you." Mr. Barnes extended his hand, feeling that perhaps he had been unnecessarily discourteous.
Mr. Sefton took it with that genial smile of friendship so common to the native Southerner.
Left alone, Mr. Barnes at once prepared for a trip to Algiers, determined not to let any more time be lost. He reached the shops just after the men had knocked off for luncheon. The foreman, however, told him that Leroy Mitchel had been at work in the morning, so he waited patiently.
When the men came back to resume work, the foreman pointed out a man who he said was Leroy Mitchel. The fellow had a bad face, and if ever he was a gentleman he had sunk so low through drink that no evidence of it remained in his appearance. Mr. Barnes went up to him and asked when he could have a talk with him.