ed to the adjoining chamber, or closet,
whichever it may be called. He did not retire early, however, while
Herbert and George Melville did.

Strangely enough, Herbert, who was usually so good a sleeper, after
a short nap woke up. He turned to look at his companion, for it was a
moonlight night, and saw that he was sleeping quietly.

"I wonder what's got into me?" he thought; "I thought I should sleep
till morning."

He tried to compose himself to sleep, but the more effort he made the
broader awake he became. Sometimes it seems as if such unaccountable
deviations from our ordinary habits were Heaven-sent. As Herbert lay
awake he suddenly became aware of a conversation which was being
carried on, in low tones, in the next room. The first voice he heard, he
recognized as that of the colonel.

"Yes," he said, "some of the passengers have got money. There's that
Stiefel probably carries a big sum in gold and notes. When I was
speaking of the chance of the stage being robbed, he was uncommon
nervous."

"Who's Stiefel?" was growled in another voice, which Herbert had no
difficulty in recognizing as the landlord's.

"Oh, he's the fat, red-faced German. From his talk, I reckon he's come
out to buy mines somewhere in Colorado."

"We'll save him the trouble."

"So we will--good joke, John. Oh, about this Stiefel, he carries his
money in a belt round his waist. I infer that it is gold."

"Good! What about the others?"

"There's a tall, thin man--his name is Parker," proceeded the colonel;
"he's smart, or thinks he is; you'll have to pull his stockings off to
get his money. Ha, ha!"

"How did you find out, colonel?" asked the landlord, in admiration.

"Drew it out of him, sir. He didn't know who he was confiding in. He'll
wonder how the deuce his hiding place was suspected."

Other passengers were referred to who have not been mentioned, and in
each case the colonel was able to tell precisely where their money was
kept.

"How about that milksop that wouldn't drink with us?" inquired the
landlord, after a while.

"Melville? I couldn't find out where he keeps his cash. Probably he
keeps it in his pocket. He doesn't look like a cautious man."

"Who's the boy?"

"Only a clerk or secretary of Melville's. He hasn't any money, and isn't
worth attention."

"Very glad to hear it," thought Herbert. "I don't care to receive any
attention from such gentry. But who would have thought the colonel was
in league with stag