ness and
aggressive attitude of these fresh applicants for hospitality. The most
offensive one was a person who appeared to exercise some authority over
the others. He was loud, assuming, and dressed with vulgar pretension.
He quickly disposed himself in the chair vacated by Zenobia, and called
for some liquor.

"I reckon you'll hev to help yourself," said Rawlins dryly, as the
summons met with no response. "There are only two women in the house,
and I reckon their hands are full already."

"I call it d--d uncivil treatment," said the man, raising his voice;
"and Hennicker had better sing smaller if he don't want his old den
pulled down some day. He ain't any better than men that hev been picked
up afore now."

"You oughter told him that, and mebbe he'd hev come over with yer,"
returned Rawlins. "He's a mild, soft, easy-going man, is Hennicker!
Ain't he, Colonel Clinch?"

The casual mention of Clinch's name produced the effect which the
speaker probably intended. The stranger stared at Clinch, who,
apparently oblivious of the conversation, was blinking his cold gray
eyes at the fire. Dropping his aggressive tone to mere querulousness,
the man sought the whiskey demijohn, and helped himself and his
companions. Fortified by liquor he returned to the fire.

"I reckon you've heard about this yer robbery, Colonel," he said,
addressing Clinch, with an attempt at easy familiarity.

Without raising his eyes from the fire, Clinch briefly assented, "I
reckon."

"I'm up yer, examining into it, for the Express."

"Lost much?" asked Rawlins.

"Not so much ez they might hev. That fool Harkins had a hundred thousand
dollars in greenbacks sealed up like an ordinary package of a thousand
dollars, and gave it to a friend, Bill Guthrie, in the bank to pick out
some unlikely chap among the passengers to take charge of it to Reno. He
wouldn't trust the Express. Ha! ha!"

The dead, oppressive silence that followed his empty laughter made it
seem almost artificial. Rawlins held his breath and looked at Clinch.
Hale, with the instincts of a refined, sensitive man, turned hot with
the embarrassment Clinch should have shown. For that gentleman, without
lifting his eyes from the fire, and with no apparent change in his
demeanor, lazily asked--

"Ye didn't ketch the name o' that passenger?"

"Naturally, no! For when Guthrie heard what was said agin him he
wouldn't give his name until he heard from him."

"And WHAT was said agin h