of Ezekiel that he instantly accepted. He drew back carefully into the
shadow of the partition as one of the voices asked--

"Wasn't that Johnson just come in?"

There was a movement as if some one had risen to look over the
compartment, but the gathering twilight completely hid Ezekiel.

"No!"

"He's late. Suppose he don't come--or back out?"

The other man broke into a grim laugh. "I reckon you don't know Johnson
yet, or you'd understand this yer little game o' his is just the one
idea o' his life. He's been two years on that man's track, and he ain't
goin' to back out now that he's got a dead sure thing on him."

"But why is he so keen about it, anyway? It don't seem nat'ral for a
business man built after Johnson's style, and a rich man to boot, to go
into this detective business. It ain't the reward, we know that. Is it
an old grudge?"

"You bet!" The speaker paused, and then in a lower voice, which taxed
Ezekial's keen ear to the uttermost, resumed: "It's said up in Frisco
that Cherokee Bob knew suthin' agin Johnson way back in the States;
anyhow, I believe it's understood that they came across the plains
together in '50--and Bob hounded Johnson and blackmailed him here where
he was livin', even to the point of makin' him help him on the road or
give information, until one day Johnson bucked against it--kicked over
the traces--and swore he'd be revenged on Bob, and then just settled