CHAPTER XXV. MELVILLE MAKES A SENSATION.
Col. Warner seemed in very good spirits. He ate and drank with violent enjoyment, and was as affable as usual. George Melville regarded him with curiosity.
“The man does not appear like a desperado or outlaw,” he thought. “There is nothing to distinguish him from the majority of men one meets in ordinary intercourse. He is a problem to me, I should like to study him.”
Col. Warner did not fail to observe the unconscious intentness with which Melville regarded him, and, for some reason, it did not please him.
“You have lost your appetite, Mr. Melville,” he said, lightly. “You have been looking at me until—egad!—if I were a vain man, I should conclude there was something striking about my appearance.”
“I won't gainsay that, Colonel,” answered Melville, adroitly. “I confess I am not very hungry, and I will further confess that I have something on my mind.”
“Indeed! Better make me your father confessor,” said the colonel, whose suspicion or annoyance was removed by this ready reply.
“So I may, after a while,” said Melville.
He took the hint, and ceased to regard the colonel.
The latter made himself generally social, and generally popular.