cut a liberal chew with a long dirk that he opened by giving
a skillful flip with his wrist, put the chew in his mouth, released the
spring which held the blade in place, put both knife and tobacco in his
pocket, and turning around spread the tails of his seedy black frock
coat, and seemed lost in meditation as he warmed.

"Not a farmer, storekeeper or stock-buyer," Shorty mentally sized him
up, "Looks more like a hickory lawyer, herb-doctor or tin-horn gambler.
What's he doin' in this caboose? Up to some devilment, no doubt. He'll
bear watchin'."

And Shorty gave another snore. The man, having completed his warming,
sat down by his carpetsack, laid his arm across it to secure possession,
pulled his battered silk hat down over his eyes, and tried to go to
sleep.

The train rumbled out, and presently stopped at another station. Another
man got on, also carrying a large, heavy carpet-sack. He was younger
than the other, looked like a farm-hand, was dressed partly in homespun,
partly in "store-clothes," wore a weather-stained wool hat, and his
sullen face terminated in a goatee. The first-comer looked him over an
instant, and then said:

"Were you out late last night?"

"I was," replied the second-comer, scanning his interrogator.

"Did you see a star?"

"I did."

"What star was it?"

"It was the Star of Bethlehem."

"Right, my brother," responded the other, putting out his hand in a
peculiar way for the grip of the order.

Shorty, still feigning deep sleep, pricked up his ears and drank in
every word. He had heard before of the greeting formula by which Knights
of the Golden Circle recognized one another, and he tried, with only
partial success, to see the grip.

He saw the two men whisper together and tap their carpet-sacks
significantly. They seemed to come to a familiar understanding at once,
but they talked so low that Shorty could not catch their words, except
once when the first-comer raised his voice to penetrate the din as they
crossed a bridge, and did not lower it quickly enough after passing, and
Shorty heard;

"They'll all be certain to be there tonight."

And the other asked: "And the raid'll be made ter-morrer?"

The first-comer replied with a nod. At the next bridge the same thing
occurred, and Shorty caught the words:

"They've no idee. We'll ketch 'em clean offen their guard."

"And the others'll come out?" asked the second-comer.

"Certainly," said the first, lowering his voice a