"Party trying to make Hornville to-night," he announced casually.
"Well, good night. See you in the morning."
Barnes was not in a position to doubt the fellow's word, for the car
unmistakably had gone on toward Hornville. He waited a few minutes
after the man disappeared up the narrow stairway, and then proceeded
to test his powers of divination. He was as sure as he could be sure
of anything that had not actually come to pass, that in a short time
the automobile would again pass the tavern but this time from the
direction of Hornville.
Lighting a cigarette, he strolled outside. He had barely time to take
a position at the darkened end of the porch before the sounds of an
approaching machine came to his ears. A second or two later the lights
swung around the bend in the road a quarter of a mile above Hart's
Tavern, and down came the car at a high rate of speed. It dashed past
the tavern with a great roar and rattle and shot off into the darkness
beyond. As it rushed through the dim circle of light in front of the
tavern, Barnes succeeded in obtaining a brief but convincing view of
the car. That glance was enough, however. He would have been willing
to go before a jury and swear that it was the same car that had
deposited him at Hart's Tavern the day before.
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