There he hired a room that had a window opening on the street, at which he sat for some time, with his face hidden behind the curtain. He saw enough to know that Snell was still at the “hotel,” and he was satisfied. Late in the afternoon, Snell went out. The detective followed, of course. At first Snell did not seem to have any errand. He seemed to be walking for exercise. But at last he stopped and looked in at a store window. Rifles, revolvers, and all sorts of things that hunters need were displayed there. Snell went in, and Patsy, looking in at the window, saw him buy a revolver. With this in his pocket, the strange man returned to Bronco Bill’s and disappeared within. That evening the detective loafed away most of the time in Bronco Bill’s barroom, but he did not see Snell. There was the ordinary crowd of idle workingmen, and a few roughs who evidently came in from ranches at a distance, but there was no disorder; none of the men seemed to be crooks, and nothing happened to throw any light on Snell’s business in Helena. It was much the same the next day and evening. Snell took a long walk, but spoke to no one on the way, and when he returned he apparently shut himself in the room he had hired. He came into the barroom late during the evening, but it was only to have a drink, and go upstairs again at once. “Who’s the stranger, Bill?” asked one of the loafers. “How should I know?” was the surly response. “A gent comes to my house an’ takes a room an’ pays for it like a gent. Why should I ask him if his father went to church reg’lar, or if he intends to start a faro bank?” “Do you think he does mean to start a faro bank, Bill?” “Aw, come off!” returned Bill, scornfully. “Can’t you take a hint? I don’t know the gent’s business, and, if I did, I shouldn’t shoot off my mouth about it.” Next day, Snell took several walks, but they were short ones. He always returned quickly to Bill’s, and once Patsy heard him ask the landlord if anybody had inquired for him. Nobody had, but it was clear that Snell’s business, whatever it was, was coming to a head. In the evening quite a number of men galloped through the streets on horseback. They shouted and sang songs and made a good deal of a racket at every place they visited. By the time they arrived at Bronco Bill’s they were well loaded and noisier than ever. “Paint the place red,” yelled half a dozen of them, as they came stamping in. Patsy was standing at the farther end of the bar talking with Bill, with whom he had picked up acquaintance. Snell was seated at a table in the corner nearest the door. “Everybody have a drink!” shouted the leader of the party, looking around the room. All except Snell got up and went to the bar. “Come on, stranger,” yelled the leader. Snell, seeing that he was spoken to, got up slowly and started toward the bar. His face was pale, and it was evident to Patsy that he wished he were not there.