"How do you know that? We can't tell which road he will take."

"We'll find out, though."

"How?"

"By asking him."

"And exciting his suspicions. Yes, a pretty way of doing, certain."

"Never do you mind; leave that to me; and if we don't know all we want to know by morning, you may call Bill Mitchel a fool; and the fellow won't suspect anything, either."

"Well, go ahead, but don't make a fool of yourself, nor spoil the job we have in hand, neither."

"I'll take care for that; only you be cautious, and don't say too much, and when you do speak, throw off your rough manners and talk and act like a gentleman. I am afraid you will forget yourself, and instead of being Mr.

Richard, will act the part of ruffian d.i.c.k."

"Never do you fear; 'ruffian d.i.c.k' knows what he's about, and you'll see how handsomely he can act 'Mr. Richard' to-night."

"Very well."

With this understanding between them, they returned to the inn, which, by the way, was a very primitive establishment, not only in construction, but also in the character of the entertainment.

Bill worked his card so as to draw Hadley into conversation, and incidentally, but designedly, remarked that they (himself and his companion) had pa.s.sed through C---- two days before.

"Indeed!" said Hadley; "I am well acquainted in C----. Did you hear any news there?"

"Well, no, not in C----, but a little way beyond the town a horse had been stolen the night previous, which caused considerable excitement in the neighborhood."

"How far beyond was it?"

"About five or six miles, I should think."

"Did you learn any of the particulars?"

"Why, yes, pretty much all of them, I think."

"I know pretty much everybody in that region, and it may be that it was some of my friends from whom the horse was stolen. What was the owner's name, if you heard it?"

"Mandeville, I think; yes, Mandeville."

"Mandeville! I know him well. Has he any idea who took the horse?"

"I think he _suspects_ some one for the theft--a young man that had been in the neighborhood, but disappeared the same night of the theft, and no one knew where he had gone."

"In the neighborhood," repeated Hadley, musingly, as if thinking aloud. "It must have been the stranger; and yet I thought he was gone some time ago."

"I don't think it was a stranger; they told us his name, but I do not know whether I can call it to mind or not. Let me see, I think it was Hardy or Hartly, or some such name."

At this juncture, d.i.c.k caught Bill's eye, and gave him a look, as much as to say: "What the d----l do you mean?--Are you going to excite his suspicions and send him back home to clear himself from imputation?" And Bill as plainly replied by looks: "Never do you mind. I'll fix it up right."

While these magnetic looks were exchanged between the murderous reprobates, Hadley was engaged in trying to think if there was anybody by either of the names mentioned in the vicinity where Mandeville lived, but he could remember no one. All at once the thought struck him that he himself might be the person accused, and the bare idea that such _might_ be the case sent the blood to his heart and a cold shudder through his frame.--He was pale as marble, for a moment, and the rascals saw it. Mastering his emotions, he inquired calmly:

"The name you heard wasn't _Hadley_, was it?"

"No, that wasn't it. I heard his name mentioned, but they said he had started for Philadelphia the day before the theft."

At this announcement, in spite of himself, Hadley drew a sigh of relief, and as he did so Bill gave d.i.c.k a knowing look. Hadley replied:

"Perhaps the name was Huntly?"

"That's it!" said Bill; "that's the name; I remember it now."

"I should hardly have thought him capable of such a crime."

"Just what the people said, exactly."

"And to take advantage of the sickness of Mandeville's daughter, at that; I can hardly believe it of him."

"You talk precisely as his neighbors talked."

"I do not believe he is guilty; no, I am sure he is not. There are others I would suspect a thousand times of such an act before I would him."

"Well, I am sure I can't tell as to that. But, to change the subject, may I be so bold as to inquire which way you are traveling?"

"Certainly, sir; I am on my way to Philadelphia."

"I was in hopes you were going the same way as ourselves; perhaps you are; we are bound for Wheeling, Virginia.--Do you go that way?"

"No, I go by way of Pittsburgh."

"Do you tarry long at Pittsburgh? We may have to go there before we return."

"No sir. My mother is very sick at her brother's house in Philadelphia, and I shall hasten to her with all dispatch."

"Then, I perceive, we shall have to part company."

"I am sorry for that, as I should be pleased to have companionship on my lonely journey."

Having found out all that concerned his purpose, Bill changed the conversation, and all of them being fatigued with hard riding throughout the day, the three soon retired for the night. Bill and d.i.c.k roomed together, and when alone the former said:

"Didn't I do it up about the right way, d.i.c.k?"

"Better than I expected; but, ---- me, if I didn't think you'd got on the wrong track once."

"I knew what I was at all the time; but I saw you were scared."

"Well, what's to be done next?"