ks like it," responded Obed dryly. "So that's all you were after,
was it?"

"Of course," said Fletcher, regaining confidence. "What else could it
be?"

"Well, it strikes me it's rather takin' a liberty with a gentleman to
search his pockets while he's asleep, that's all! In Californy,
Fletcher, if you had been caught doin' it, ten chances to one you'd have
been lynched, and lynchin' isn't usually regarded as comfortable or
desirable. Where's your cigar?"

"I haven't any, but I've got a pipe."

"Well, I do happen to have a few matches in my other pocket, but I'd
rather you'd ask for 'em next time."

"I will. The fact is, I ought to have brought some with me. It's very
strange, old traveller as I am."

"It would have been a little better than borrowin' them of a sleepin'
man without leave. Don't do it again, Fletcher."

"I'm not very likely to borrow them of you again, except when you're
awake," said Fetcher with a short laugh. "Do you always wake up so
easy?" he asked, in some curiosity.

"Always. I sleep mighty sound, but the least touch wakes me up."

"I shall remember that," thought Fletcher. "This Yankee is rather a
dangerous man to tackle. I won't attempt it again unless I have the
decided advantage."

"I hope you'll excuse me, Mr. Stackpole," he said aloud in a smooth
tone. "I used to travel with a friend--a great chum of mine--and we
never stood on ceremony with each other. I ought to have remembered that
you and I are comparatively new acquaintances."

"Perhaps it will be best," said Obed dryly. "You see when I wake up I
don't always have my wits about me, and I might cut up rough before I
had time to think."

"Oh, no apologies, I beg," said Fletcher, waving his hand.

"Who's apologizin'?" demanded Obed, in surprise.

"Never mind, it's all right! I thought you were apologizing for seizing
me by the throat. As you say, you waked up suddenly, and didn't have
your wits about you."

"Well, I know!" ejaculated Obed half to himself. "I didn't think of that
way of puttin' it. You're a cute fellow, Fletcher."

"Thank you, Mr. Stackpole. Now I will have my smoke;" and Fletcher,
though he did not care for it, by way of removing any lingering
suspicion, lit his pipe and puffed away with apparent pleasure.

CHAPTER VII.

PARTING COMPANY.

"I mistrust that man Fletcher," said Obed to Harry Vane the next day,
taking the opportunity when, at one of their rests, the man referred to
had sauntered i