"What are you doing, down on your hands and knees, spying into my camp?"
The shouts of the world-famous desperado quickly drew a crowd to the spot.
Turning to them, he complained bitterly:
"It seems strange that three gentlemen can't come to Monegaw Springs and live in quiet, without you all haunting them day and night and gawping at them. Why, we can't even leave our tent without some one trying to enter it.
"This man, here," and he pointed to the detective, "was just crawling in when we happened to come along and saw him."
"That's not so," protested Dillaby, realizing that his position was becoming uncomfortable.
"Then what were you doing? Are you in the habit of going 'round sticking your head into every camp you see?"
"I was merely delivering a package."
"That's a likely story."