“That might be.”
“And he did not confine himself to the Western country, but might be met with in New York, or St. Louis. We met the colonel in Chicago.”
“It may be as you surmise, Herbert,” said George Melville, after a pause. “It did occur to me that our worthy landlord might be the famous outlaw in question, but the description to which you refer seems to fit the colonel better. There is one thing, however, that makes me a little incredulous.”
“What is that, Mr. Melville?”
“This Jerry Lane I take to be cool and courageous, while the colonel appears to be more of a boaster. He looks like one who can talk better than he can act. If I had ever seen a description of his appearance, I could judge better.”
The two had been walking slowly and thoughtfully, when they were startled by a rough voice.
“You're out early, strangers?”
Turning swiftly, they saw the dark, forbidding face of the landlord, who had approached them unobserved.
“Did he hear anything?” thought Herbert, anxiously.
“Yes, we are taking a little walk,” said Melville, pleasantly.