his quick ear caught the
sound of voices.

He was instantly on the alert. The voices, he doubted not, were those of
Dick Fletcher and Larry Linton. He moved forward cautiously, and soon
espied the speakers. They were sitting on the ground, under the
overreaching boughs of a gigantic tree. Harry managed to get near enough
to listen to the conversation, being himself concealed from view behind
the trunk of a neighboring tree.

"Is there much money in the party?" he heard Linton ask.

"I can't tell you. The boys haven't got much, but that long-legged
Yankee has probably got considerable."

"What sort of a man is he?"

"He's likely to prove a troublesome customer. He is muscular, as you can
see, and not easily scared."

"Has he any suspicion of you?"

"Yes; I put my foot in it the other night."

"How's that?"

"I saw him sleeping like a boy, and thought there was no danger of his
waking up, so I took the liberty to explore his pockets. Before I could
say Jack Robinson he had me by the throat, and wanted to know what I was
after."

"That was awkward. How did you get out of it?"

"Lied out! Told him I was looking for matches, as I wanted a smoke."

"Did he swallow it down?"

"He didn't contradict me, but it has made him watchful and suspicious.
If I'd got the money, I was ready to make tracks, and leave them to find
their way as they could."

At this point the two rose and walked away, leaving Harry in his
position behind the tree. As soon as he thought it was safe he came out,
and made the best of his way to the inn, getting there about fifteen
minutes before Fletcher appeared, but without the landlord. During that
interval he had time to communicate what he had heard to Obed
Stackpole.

"Just what I expected!" said Obed. "The treacherous skunk! So he's in
league with the landlord, is he? I'll fix him."

He cautioned the two boys not to show by their manner that they had made
any discovery, but to appear as usual.

The next morning the party started as usual. They plodded on for almost
a mile, when Obed, turning quickly to Fletcher, said:

"Let me look at that weapon of yours a minute."

Fletcher unsuspiciously handed it over.

"I think I shall _keep_ this, Fletcher," said Obed, eying him steadily.
"I'm pained to have to bid you good-by."

"What does all this mean?" blustered Fletcher.

"It means that your room is better than your company. We'd better
part."

"Would you rob me? That revolver