teeth, as his thoughts passed through his befuddled brain.

Cummings and Moriarity, who had withdrawn from the main party, had their
heads together, earnestly engaged in conversation. Cummings was
evidently endeavoring to persuade his fainter hearted comrade to do
something, for he often bent a significant look on Swanson, or pointed
his thumb toward him, but Moriarity, whose eyes were half indicative of
fear, would shake his head as if in expostulation.

The Doctor saw all this, through his half-closed eyes and strained his
ears to catch even the slightest shred of their consultation, but the
outlaws talked in such low tones that he was unable to hear anything.

A glance at Skip, who was gently snoring near them, put his mind at
rest, for he saw that the darkey was taking in every word that dropped,
feigning sleep all the time. A sudden movement by some of the men,
roused Swanson, and looking at a huge silver watch, he ordered them all
to bed at once. Which command was obeyed by all except Cummings,
Moriarity, the Doctor and Scip.

An inner room, fitted with bunks, was used as the dormitory, but the two
robbers, as special guests had rooms to themselves. Going to a cupboard,
and bringing out an armful of blankets, Swanson threw them on the floor.

"There my hearty, you and your boy will have to camp out here to-night.
We're crowded, so make yourself comfortable," and then bidding them
"Good-night," he staggered to his bed.

Nothing could suit the detectives better than this. A room to
themselves, a warm fire, plenty of blankets and no suspicions of their