"He does, but he's out of town on business for a day or two. I think you'll find, though, that our bartender and Mr. Farnham were about as chummy together as anyone in the house."
Apparently at my leisure, really with great impatience, I repaired to the extremely handsome "barroom" of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, and here the oracle was very communicative.
Having mixed me a peculiarly American drink called "gin fizz," the bartender was willing to chat of Mr. Farnham.
"I guess he must have been pretty bad this last time," he said, in response to my first question, "for he didn't trouble the barroom much."
"He did come in, however, did he not?" I asked anxiously.
"Oh, yes, he came in once or twice, but I thought he acted rather grumpy and queer."
"Did you have a good look at him either time?" I pressed on, with eagerness.
"Pretty good. Almost as close as you are now, I guess."
"And did he appear the same as usual, with the exception of the green shade over his eyes?"
"Well, I reckon he did. I was kind of busy both times, and I don't know as I took much notice."