"About an hour ago."
"You met him?"
"Yes."
"Are you a member of his gang?"
"Mr. Westerfelt," shrinking from him, "do—do you mean to insult me?"
"Would he have told you if he had thought you would give him away?"
"I reckon not—why, no."
"Then he considers you in sympathy with his murderous plans."
"I don't know, but I want you to keep out of his way. You must—oh, Mr. Westerfelt, you must go! Don't stand here; they are coming down the Hawkbill road directly. You could ride off towards Dartsmouth and easily get away, if you will hurry."
"I see," he answered, with a steady stare of condemnation; "you want to keep him from committing another crime—a more serious one."