The Mystery of Room 75 by Fred M. White — Read

Everything being arranged, and Wendover feeling easier in his mind now, all he had to do was to kill time until the arrival of his traps, and, when they came, make his way to Scotland with a sure and certain feeling that he would see Garcia again before long. And for the first time since he had set out upon his self-appointed task, luck appeared to be on his side, and, indeed, his meeting with Cecil Walton had been luck, pure and simple. By some fortunate chance Garcia had come in contact with Walton's kind-hearted, good-natured father, and the invitation to try a few days' salmon fishing had followed as a matter of course. And very probably Garcia had jumped at it. For Wendover knew him to be a good deal of a sportsman, and, besides, the wily South American would probably be glad of a few quiet days in that remote part of the world, when he could kill a salmon or two and brood over his plans for the future at the same time. And now the opportunity had come, just at the moment when he wanted it. He would be back from Norway in a week, and would proceed to that quiet, sporting retreat without the least idea that he was going to run straight into the arms of the last man in the world that he wanted to see.

Wendover chuckled when he thought of it. He would meet Garcia alone with the possible exception of the keeper, they would be fishing a stream together, and Garcia, of course, would recognise him. But would Garcia come back in the guise of the Rev. James Ogilvy, or would he adopt some other character? Wendover decided that he would come back as the Rev.