“Don't you fool yourself,” he said. “They've landed below here, and maybe they're in town while we've got our mouths open, fly-catching around an empty car.” “Good boy, Abrams,” I said. “My opinion exactly.” “And what's to be done, then?” he asked anxiously. “For the first thing, to visit the telegraph office at once.” The operator was just locking his little room in the station as we came up. “No, sir, no telegrams,” he said; “none for anybody.” “This is a new way of running trains,” I said with a show of indifference, nodding toward the empty car. “Oh, there was a party came up,” said the agent; “a dozen fellows or more. Bill said they took a fancy to get off a mile or more down here, and as they were an ugly-looking crew he didn't say anything to stop them.” “I don't see what they can be doing up in this part of the country,” I returned innocently. “I guess they know their business--anyway, it's none of mine,” said the agent. “Do you go in here, sir? Well, it will save you from a wetting.” We had been walking toward the hotel, and the chatty agent left us under its veranda just as the light drops began to patter down in the dust of the road, and to dim the outlines of the distant hills. “I reckon that's the gang,” said Fitzhugh. “I told you so,” said Abrams. “I knew it was one of Tom Terrill's sneaky tricks.” “Shall we take a look for 'em?” asked Lockhart. “There's no need,” I replied. The home guard of our party received the news calmly. Wainwright had established a _modus vivendi_ with his young charge, and I saw that he managed to get a word out of him now and then. I had to abandon the theory that the boy was dumb, but I suspected that it was fear rather than discretion that bridled his tongue. “Do you think the gang have got into town?” asked one. “They'll have wet jackets if they are on the road,” I returned, looking at the rain outside. “Hadn't we better find out?” inquired Wainwright. “Are you in a hurry?” I asked in turn. “The landlord has promised to send up a good dinner in a few minutes.” “But you see--” “Yes, I see,” I interrupted. “I see this--that they are here, that there are a dozen or more of them, and that they are ready for any deviltry. What more can we find out by roaming over the country?” Wainwright nodded his agreement with me. “And then,” I continued, “they won't try to do anything until after dark--not before the middle of the night, I should say--or until the townspeople have gone to bed.” “You're right, sir,” said Abrams. “A dark night and a clear field suits that gang best.” “Well, here's the dinner,” said I; “so you can make yourselves easy. Porter, you may keep an eye on the stairway, and Brown may watch from the windows. The rest of us will fall to.” In the midst of the meal Porter came in. “Darby Meeker's in the office below,” he announced. “Very good,” I said. “Just take Fitzhugh and Wilson with you, and ask Mr. Meeker to join us.”