steps to the Echo Gulch Hotel.

"Do you think he heard anything that we were saying?" asked Herbert.

"I think not."

"I wonder what brought him out here?"

"Probably he wanted to make sure that we were going in the stage. He
is laudably anxious to have as many victims and as much plunder as
possible."

"You told him you were going in the stage?"

"Yes, I have decided to do so."

"Have you decided upon anything else, Mr. Melville?"

"Not positively; but there will be time to think of that. Did you hear
where we were to be attacked?"

"At a point about five miles from here," said Herbert.

This he had gathered from the conversation he had overheard.

When the two friends reached the hotel, they found Col. Warner already
downstairs.

"Good-morning, gentlemen!" he said. "So you have taken a walk? I never
walk before breakfast, for my part."

"Nor do I often," said Melville. "In this case I was persuaded by my
young friend. I am repaid by a good appetite."

"Can't I persuade you to try a glass of bitters, Mr. Melville?" asked
the colonel.

"Thank you, colonel. You will have to excuse me."

"Breakfast's ready!" announced the landlady, and the stage passengers
sat down at a long, unpainted, wooden table, where the food was of
the plainest. In spite of the impending peril of which they, only, had
knowledge, Herbert ate heartily, but Melville seemed preoccupied.

CHAPTER XXV. MELVILLE MAKES A SENSATION.

Col. Warner seemed in very good spirits. He ate and drank with violent
enjoyment, and was as affable as usual. George Melville regarded him
with curiosity.

"The man does not appear like a desperado or outlaw," he thought. "There
is nothing to distinguish him from the majority of men one meets in
ordinary intercourse. He is a problem to me, I should like to study
him."

Col. Warner did not fail to observe the unconscious intentness with
which Melville regarded him, and, for some reason, it did not please
him.

"You have lost your appetite, Mr. Melville," he said, lightly. "You have
been looking at me until--egad!--if I were a vain man, I should conclude
there was something striking about my appearance."

"I won't gainsay that, Colonel," answered Melville, adroitly. "I confess
I am not very hungry, and I will further confess that I have something
on my mind."

"Indeed! Better make me your father confessor," said the colonel, whose
suspicion or annoyance was removed by this ready reply.