But Mr. Muffin was too sharp to be taken off his guard, and, with a meaning smile upon his evil countenance, he said:
“The nearest I’ve got, I believe, are a couple of brothers in Sacramento City.”
“You hunt alone, do you?”
“I have done so for nigh onto five years—not quite that, howsumever.”
“That is a singular way of managing one’s affairs. A man isn’t apt to act in that manner unless he has a strong motive for doing so.”
“What might be a chap’s motives?” demanded the other, removing his pipe and glaring upon the speaker with an ugly look.
“Sometimes a man has a natural taste for solitude, but it more generally happens that he leaves society for society’s own good.”
“Do you mean to ’sinuate that that’s what I’ve done?”
“I don’t insinuate anything, because I know nothing about you; but I strongly suspect that you are some scamp who dare not return to the society of your people on account of the crimes you have committed against them.”
Mr. Muffin looked very angry, and Jim had strong hopes that he would say or attempt something bad, for he was eager to lay his hands upon him; but their visitor evidently concluded it unsafe to let his angry passions rise just then, and so he held his peace, and smoked his pipe harder than ever.