"His name isn't Derande."
"That is what the fellow calls himself. He came here from Canada about two weeks ago and asked for a job. Do you know him?"
"I do—if he is the fellow I take him to be. I'd like to get a better look at him."
"Why not go up and talk to him?" asked Philip Rice, with interest.
"No; I want to look at him first. I may be mistaken. Wait a minute."
"But I don't understand."
"The fellow I take him to be is a thief from Maine. He stole a horse once, and he tried to rob Mr. Wilbur's lodge. He was caught, but escaped from jail while awaiting trial."
"Is it possible! And you think this is the fellow?"
"I do—but I had best make sure."
Watching his chance, Owen left the shed and slipped around the end of a high pile of lumber. Then he made his way across a gangway and around some heavy timbers. In the meantime the man he was watching delivered some boards he was carrying and then came back for another supply.