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He had taken into his confidence Mr Junius Keswick, Mr Brandon, old Mrs Keswick, Mrs Null, as she wished to be called, and almost lastly, the lady herself. "If I should lay bare my heart to the colored man, Isham," he said to himself, "and the old centenarian in the cabin down there, I believe there would be no one else to tell. Oh, yes, there is Candy, and the anti-detective.
The anti-detective had left on a train an hour before, but Lawrence felt certain that the telegram would reach Keswick before the man could possibly get to him, especially as the latter had probably not yet found out his intended victim's address.
The visit of the anti-detective had compelled him to write to Keswick at a time when it was not at all desirable that he should make any disclosures whatever in regard to his love affair with Miss March, except that very important disclosure which he had made to the lady herself that morning.
She hooked her forefinger around one of the triggers, her eagle eye glanced along the barrels straight at the head of the anti-detective, and, in a clarion voice she sang out "Go!" The man stared at her.
"There is no such case!" He was about to say more, when a few words from the anti-detective stopped him suddenly.
"Well, yes, sir, I should think it was," replied the other, a tall man, with sandy hair and beard, and dressed in a checkered business suit, which had lost a good deal of the freshness of its early youth. "I may as well tell you at once who I am. I am an anti-detective. Never heard of that sort of person, I suppose?" "Never," said Lawrence, curtly.
"I will emphasize it, if you would like to hear me do it," said she. "It's very queer," remarked Annie, after a little pause, "that I should have been so anxious to preserve poor Junius from your clutches, and that, after all I did to save him, I should fall into those clutches myself." Whereupon Lawrence, much to her delight, told her the story of the anti-detective.
As he saw that tall and good-looking young man going up the steps of the house porch, with his valise in his hand, he clinched both his fists as they rested on the arm of his chair, and objurgated the anti-detective. "If it had not been for that rascal," he said to himself, "I should not have written to Keswick, and he would not have thought of coming back at this untimely moment.
He concluded the letter by informing Mr Keswick of the visit of the anti-detective, and warning him against any attempts which that individual might make upon his pocket, assuring him that the man could tell him nothing in regard to the affair that he now did not know.
"No," said the man, "I am on my way to Mobile, and I only lose one train by stopping here to attend to your business." "How did you know I was here?" "Ah," said the anti-detective, with a smile, "as I told you, we have facilities. I knew you were at this house, and I came here, straight as a die." "It is truly wonderful," said Lawrence, "how accurate your information is.
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