He turned toward the door, but the detective was too quick for him.

“You will have to go with me,” he said.  “You have been trying a bold confidence game.  I shall have to lock you up.”

“Gentlemen,” said Robinson, turning pale, “will you permit this outrage?”

“It is an outrage!” said the old gentleman, hotly.

“My friend,” inquired the detective, “do you know this man?”

“No; but—­”

“Then let me introduce him as Tom Maitland, one of the cleverest confidence men in Chicago.”

He produced a pair of handcuffs, which he deftly slipped over the wrists of Percival Robinson, and led him out of the hotel.

Andy was satisfactorily vindicated, and, it must be admitted, enjoyed the discomfiture of the old gentleman, who slunk away in confusion.

When Andy set out on his journey he intended to go to Tacoma by way of San Francisco, but found, as he proceeded, that he could go by the Northern Pacific as far as it was built, and proceed the rest of the way by stage and over Puget Sound.  This seemed to him to afford greater variety, and he adopted the plan.

Some hundreds of miles east of his destination he took the stage.  It was rather a toilsome mode of traveling, but he obtained a good idea of the country through which he was passing.

At that time stage robberies were frequent, nor have they wholly ceased now.  Among the stage robbers who were most dreaded was a certain Dick Hawley, who had acquired a great reputation for daring, and was known to have been engaged in nearly twenty stage robberies.

As they approached that part of the route in which he operated, there was a great anxiety manifested by the passengers, and especially by a thin, cadaverous-looking man from Ohio.

“Do you think we shall meet Dick Hawley to-day, driver?” he asked.

“I can’t say, sir.  I hope not.”

“How often have you met him?”

“Three times.”

“Did he rob the stage every time?”

“Yes.”

“Were there many passengers on board?” asked Andy.

“Nearly ten every time.”

“And they allowed one man to rob them?”

“Wait till you meet him,” said the driver, shrugging his shoulders.

“If he stops the stage I shall die of fright,” said the cadaverous-looking man.  “I know I shall.”

“Have you a good deal of money with you?” asked a fellow passenger.

“I have ninety-seven dollars and a half,” answered the other, soberly.

“Better lose that than die!  If you give it up, there won’t be any danger of bodily injury.”

The cadaverous-looking man groaned, but did not reply.

Gradually they ascended, for they were among the mountains, till they reached a narrow ledge or shelf scarcely wider than the stage.  On one side there was a sheer descent of hundreds of feet, and great caution was requisite.