"
"It belongs to me, sir," said Peter. "Mr. O'Dowd gave it to me
yesterday, with his compliments. It seems that he had word from his
sister to reward me for long and faithful service. Special cablegram
from London or England, I forget which."
"Did Mr. Curtis leave with the others last night?" inquired Barnes,
setting the trunk down on the brick pavement outside the door.
"'Pears that he left a couple of days ago," said Peter, vastly
perplexed. "By gosh, I don't see how he done it, 'thout me knowin'
anything about it. Derned queer, that's all I got to say, man as sick
as he is."
Barnes did not enlighten him. He helped Peter to lift the trunks into
the car and then ordered him to start at once for Hart's Tavern.
"You can return later on for your things," he said.
"I got 'em tied up in a bundle in the garage, Mr. Burns," he said.
"Won't take a second to get 'em out." He hurried around the corner of
the house, leaving Barnes alone with the car.
A dry, quiet chuckle fell upon Barnes's ears. He glanced about in
surprise and alarm. No one was in sight.
"Look up, young man," and the startled young man obeyed. His gaze
halted at a window on the second story, almost directly over his head.
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