ed so that I could not get
to sleep. If I had been honest with myself I should have wished myself
back home. Pennsylvania seemed a long way off, and the adventures that I
had dreamed of did not seem so alluring, now that I was in a lonely room
in a lonely, dark town. Buell had seemed friendly and kind--at least,
in the beginning. Why had he not answered my call? The incident did
not look well to me. Then I fell to wondering if the Mexican had really
followed me. The first thing for me in the morning would be to buy a
revolver. Then if any Mexicans--

A step on the tin roof outside frightened me stiff. I had noticed a
porch, or shed, under my window. Some one must have climbed upon it. I
stopped breathing to listen. For what seemed moments there was no sound.
I wanted to think that the noise might have been made by a cat, but I
couldn't. I was scared--frightened half to death.

If there had been a bolt on the window the matter would not have been so
disturbing. I lay there a-quiver, eyes upon the gray window space of my
room. Dead silence once more intervened. All I heard was the pound of my
heart against my ribs.

Suddenly I froze at the sight of a black figure against the light of
my window. I recognized the strange bat, the grotesque outlines. I was
about to shout for help when the fellow reached down and softly began to
raise the sash.

That made me angry. Jerking up in bed, I caught the heavy pitcher from
the wash-stand and flung it with all my might.

Crash!

Had I smashed out the whole side of the room it could scarcely have made
more noise. Accompanied by the clinking of glass and the creaking of
tin, my visitor rolled off the roof. I waited, expecting an uproar from
the other inmates of the hotel. No footstep, no call sounded within
hearing. Once again the stillness settled down.

Then, to my relief, the gray gloom lightened, and dawn broke. Never
had I been so glad to see the morning. While dressing I cast gratified
glances at the ragged hole in the window. With the daylight my courage
had returned, and I began to have a sort of pride in my achievement.

"If that fellow had known how I can throw a baseball he'd have been
careful," I thought, a little cockily.

I went down-stairs into the office. The sleepy porter was mopping the
floor. Behind the desk stood a man so large that he made Buell seem
small. He was all shoulders and beard.

"Can I get breakfast?"

"Nobody's got a half-hitch on you, has