dleton knew how to protect
themselves, and the message might fall into wrong hands.

His journey continued in such peace that it was hard to believe men had
fired upon him, and in the middle of the afternoon he reached Winton.
He left his horse, saddle and bridle at a livery stable, stating that
they would be called for by Colonel Kenton, who was known throughout the
region, and sought food at the crude little wooden hotel. He was glad
that he saw no one whom he knew, because, after the fashion of the
country, they would ask him many questions, and he felt relief, too,
when the train arrived.

Dark had already come when Harry entered the car. There were no coaches
for sleepers, and he must make himself comfortable as best he could on
the red plush seat, sprinkled thickly with ashes and cinders from the
engine. Fortunately, he had the seat alone, although there were many
people in the car.

The train, pouring out a huge volume of black smoke, pulled out of the
station with a great clatter that never ceased. Now Harry felt an ebb
of the spirits and melancholy. He was leaving behind Pendleton and all
that he had known. In the day the excitement, the cold air, and the
free world about him had kept him up. Now the swaying and jarring
of the train, crude like most others in that early time of railways,
gave him a sense of illness. The window at his elbow rattled
incessantly, and the ashes and cinders sifted in, blackening his face
and hands. Three or four smoking lamps, hung from the ceiling, lighted
the car dimly, and disclosed but partly the faces of the people around
him. Some were asleep already. Others ate their suppers from baskets.
Harry felt of his pockets at intervals to see that his money and letters
were safe, and he kept his saddle bags closely on the seat beside him.

The nausea created by the motion of the train passed away soon. He put
his face against the dusty window pane and tried to see the country.
But he could catch only glimpses of snowy woods and fields, and, once
or twice, flashes of water as they crossed rivers. The effort yielded
little, and he turned his attention to the people. He noted only one
who differed in aspect from the ordinary country passenger.

A man of middle years sat rigidly erect at the far end of the car.
He wore a black hat, broad of brim, and all his clothing was black and
precise. His face was shaven smoothly, save for a long gray mustache
with an upward curve