"
CHAPTER XLII.
Rigby did not for a moment appear to suspect the truthfulness
of the detective's story.
"Who were they?" he demanded.
"Detectives."
"And Vance was one of them?"
"No."
"Were they connected with him?"
"That I cannot answer."
"And what do you propose to do,"
"Lay around for my man, if I am not interfered with. It is my
game to appear as one of the gang, and that will give me a
chance to get well in on his trail when he comes."
"I can fix that part of the business for you."
"That is all I want; but, if I am to be jumped at every time I
make a move, I'll get away."
"You were hiding around here?"
"Yes."
"Why didn't you cone out openly?"
"I was waiting to got a chance to see you alone. I did not
want to be known to all your friends--you never can tell who,
will talk too much."
"Our men don't talk."
"Some of them must have talked."
"What makes you think so?"
"How, else would Vance find out about the death of old Tom
Pearce?"
"The death of Tom Pearce is as much a mystery to our men as to
anyone else."
"Vance thinks your men did it."
"How do you know?"
"I've lain on his track, and overheard him talking with the
United States District Attorney."
"Our men know nothing, about the death of Tom Pearce."
"Have they a suspicion?"
"I have not heard them say."
"I wish I had a point on that affair."
"Why?"
"It would give me a sure hitch on Vance."
"It's a good scheme; I will talk with the boys and see if any
of them have any suspicion.
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