Killett reflected.
"If you don't find some one in front of Miss Bell's when you leave her," he presently said, "why, come back here. One of us will be around waiting for you."
"All right. And now I'm off," and, starting up from the table, Old Spicer sauntered from the saloon.
[CHAPTER XV.]
THE TRUE STORY OF THE MURDER.
Detective Killett also arose from the table, and, approaching the bar, asked:
"Have you got a quiet little room handy, where I can drink one or two whisky punches by myself, and do a little writing?"
"Why—yes, there's a room in there that's vacant," answered the barkeeper; "but we haven't any writing materials."
"Don't let that trouble you," returned Killett, cheerfully, as he exhibited a pad of paper and a stylographic pen; "you see I carry my tools with me."