The two men entered a beer saloon, the rear yard of which had been converted into a garden, over which an awning was stretched. They took a seat and Denman demanded in an impatient tone:

"Well, what have you to say to me?"

There was no one in the garden but the two men; the waiter had brought the beer and had gone away.

"You asked me what my name was on the train?"

"Yes, I did."

"I wouldn't tell you!"

"No."

"Well, do you know why?"

"No."

"You ought to know my name; you and I have met before; can't you tell where?"

The detective all the time had preserved his rustic tones and demeanor.

"You and I have met before?"

"Yes."

"When and where?"

"Several times."

"Where?"

"Ah, you must guess."

"The master of the "Nancy" studied the detective's face.

"I do not remember ever having seen you before."

"Nonsense."

"You are having some fun at my expense."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes."

"Well, I am in dead earnest."

"Where did we meet before?"

"The last time we met I promised you we would meet again."

A fierce look shot into Denman's eyes as he permitted his glance to roam around the garden.

He was studying what the chances would be under certain contingencies.

"As I don't know you, do you know me?"

"You told me your name was King."

"Is that my name?"

"No."

"What is my name?"

"Denman," came the answer in a low, firm tone. The master of the "Nancy" turned deadly pale. Ho realized that something was up, and it came to him that the seeming countryman after all, was a man as keen and resolute as himself.

"You say my name is Denman?"

"Yes."

"You are sure?"

"I am."

"What's my business?"

"You're the master of the 'Nancy'."

Denman made a certain significant motion with his hand, when the detective whispered:

"Don't!"

There was a world of significance in that little word "Don't!"

"Who are you?"

"Can't you guess?"

"I'm not guessing to-day."

"Sorry."

"What is your business with me?"

"I wanted to tell you that I knew who you were."

"Is that all?"