Snell went in, and Patsy, looking in at the window, saw him buy a revolver.
With this in his pocket, the strange man returned to Bronco Bill’s and disappeared within.
That evening the detective loafed away most of the time in Bronco Bill’s barroom, but he did not see Snell.
There was the ordinary crowd of idle workingmen, and a few roughs who evidently came in from ranches at a distance, but there was no disorder; none of the men seemed to be crooks, and nothing happened to throw any light on Snell’s business in Helena.
It was much the same the next day and evening.
Snell took a long walk, but spoke to no one on the way, and when he returned he apparently shut himself in the room he had hired.
He came into the barroom late during the evening, but it was only to have a drink, and go upstairs again at once.
“Who’s the stranger, Bill?” asked one of the loafers.
“How should I know?” was the surly response. “A gent comes to my house an’ takes a room an’ pays for it like a gent. Why should I ask him if his father went to church reg’lar, or if he intends to start a faro bank?”