same moment.

"Hullo," he said gruffly.

"H' are you, Metzar. I just dropped in to see if I could make a trade
for your sorrel mare," replied Jonathan. Being well aware that the
innkeeper would not part with his horse, the borderman had made this
announcement as his reason for entering the bar-room.

"Nope, I'll allow you can't," replied Metzar.

As he turned to go, Jonathan's eyes roamed around the bar-room.
Several strangers of shiftless aspect bleared at him.

"They wouldn't steal a pumpkin," muttered Jonathan to himself as he
left the inn. Then he added suspiciously, "Metzar was talkin' to some
one, an' 'peared uneasy. I never liked Metzar. He'll bear watchin'."

The borderman passed on down the path thinking of what he had heard
against Metzar. The colonel had said that the man was prosperous for
an innkeeper who took pelts, grain or meat in exchange for rum. The
village gossips disliked him because he was unmarried, taciturn, and
did not care for their company. Jonathan reflected also on the fact
that Indians were frequently coming to the inn, and this made him
distrustful of the proprietor. It was true that Colonel Zane had
red-skinned visitors, but there was always good reason for their
coming. Jonathan had seen, during the Revolution, more than one
trusted man proven to be a traitor, and the conviction settled upon
him that some quiet scouting would show up the innkeeper as aiding the
horse-thieves if not actually in league with them.