CHAPTER XVI.
WATCHING AND WATCHED.
Bill Tozer rose to his feet.

The interview was over, and little remained to be said between the two.
"Then, Hank, you'll leave matters with me till I see you again ?" "When will that be ?" The man stood a moment in thought.
"In order that there shall be no mistake, let us agree that I shall call here to-morrow morning--twenty-four hours from now.

How does that strike you ?" "That will do." "I can make it less time than that, if you wish it." "That suits; it's a go; good-by." "Good-by," and the visitor turned on his heel and strode across the plateau, disappearing on the further margin, where he had first shown himself.
Hank Hazletine stood looking after him as long as he was in sight.

When at last he vanished, an expression of scornful contempt darkened the bearded face of the cowman, and he muttered: "Bill Tozer, you think you're smart, but _I understand you_!" In the interview which has just been recorded the visitor believed he had outwitted the guide at every step, and yet exactly the reverse was the fact.

Hank Hazletine had pretended a stupidity which was not real.
He noted the contradictions in the declarations of Tozer the instant they were made, but gave no evidence of it, his object being to draw out the miscreant, in which purpose he succeeded perfectly.
The whole truth was manifest to the guide.