"Yes?" drawled the sheriff. "'N' be arrested for assault. My jurisdiction stops on this side of the line." He was silent, while he took a piece of tobacco from his pocket and cut off a bite. After a minute he grunted: "Humph! He'ain't gone yet. I'm goin' to stay here 'til to-morrow mornin'. By that time he'll be home, for he 'ain't got no place else to go. Then I'll nab him good 'n' quick." All this time Bill had stood in the middle of the floor, listening to all that was said, saying never a word himself. Now he went slowly to one side of the room, took a chair that stood against the California wall and placed it in front of the table, close to the dividing line. Blodgett, thinking there was reason for his act, so deliberate was it, took a chair from its place near the Nevada wall and placed it parallel with Bill's, seating himself in it. The two men contemplated each other in silence. Thomas and Hammond stood in short consultation, and then the latter went to his room on the California side of the hotel, Thomas sauntering to a rocking-chair on the veranda. He lighted a cigar and sat looking out over the lake, where the moon was rising over the rim of the bordering Sierras. There was scrutiny in the eye with which Blodgett viewed Bill. There was distrust in the steady look which thrust itself between Bill's half-open lids and struck straight in the center of Blodgett's pupil. The latter opened his mouth to speak, but shut it again, as steps were heard on the veranda and Rodney Harper entered the lobby. "Do you know where I can find John Marvin?" he asked of the two men whose backs he faced. Both immediately turned in their chairs, the sheriff alert for any news he might obtain of the habits and customs of the man he was pursuing. Bill, when he saw who it was, arose and slowly went toward him, holding out his hand. "Oh! Hello, old chap! I got your telegram, also one from Marvin. Where is he?" Harper grasped Bill's hand and gave it a hearty shake, glancing anxiously about the lobby. Bill ignored the last question, keeping a slanting eye on Blodgett. "Your wife's up-stairs," he whispered, with a nod toward the Nevada up-stairs hallway. "Where?" Harper turned in the direction of Bill's nod. "In Nevada," Bill drawled, with a slow grin. Harper shrugged his shoulders and smiled at Bill, continuing with his subject, "What's the number of her room?" "You'd better go slow." Bill thrust his hands in his pockets, assuming an air of counselor. "I told her I thought you'd be here." "What did she say?" Harper was at the register and going quickly down the list. He came to his wife's name, letting his finger run across the page until he came to the number of her room; then he swept past Bill and had his foot on the first step when Bill stopped him. "Ye'll spoil it all, if ye ain't careful." The old man drew the younger one's head close to his mouth, speaking in low tones.