"We'll drive in comfortably to-morrow, and find out what we can," he observed.
"I don't think we shall find Johnson," I murmured.
Nor did we. The cashier testified to receiving the roll of notes, but not the letter of introduction. We hunted high and low for Johnson; but he was not.
"How did he get away without money?" he asked.
"He had money. I stuck a twenty-dollar bill into his coat pocket."
Before leaving town, we visited our gunmaker, with the intention of ordering some cartridges. By the merest chance, he spoke of Johnson.
"A Britisher was in here yesterday: somethin' o' the cut o' you boys."
"In a grey suit with a brown sombrero?"
"Sure enough."
"Did he buy cartridges?"