Pete came out presently, glanced about casually, and started back for the room.  Half a block behind him followed the plain-clothes man, who glanced in as he passed the hotel.  The conductor nodded.  The plain-clothes man hastened on down the street.  He saw Pete turn a corner several blocks south.  When the detective arrived at the corner Pete was just entering the door of the little clothing-store next to the restaurant.  Presently Pete came out and crossed to the saloon.  The detective sauntered down the opposite walk and entering the restaurant telephoned to headquarters.  Then he called for coffee and sat watching the saloon across the way.

Brevoort, who had been sitting on the bed gazing down at the street, saw Pete turn the corner and enter the store.  He also saw the plain-clothes man enter the restaurant and thought nothing of it until presently he saw another man enter the place.  These two were talking together at the table near the front window.  Brevoort grew suspicious.  The latest arrival had not ordered anything to eat, nor had he greeted the other as men do when they meet.  And they did not seem quite the type of men to dine in such a place.  Pete, cording his belongings in the new sogun, heard Brevoort muttering something, and turned his head.

“I’m watchin’ a couple of fellas acrost the street,” explained Brevoort.  “Keep back out of sight a minute.”

Pete, on his knees, watched Brevoort’s face.  “Anything wrong, Ed?” he queried presently.

“I dunno.  Jest step round behind me.  Kin you see that eatin’-place?”

“Yes.”

“Did you see either of them guys when you was out on the street?”

“Why, no.  Hold on a minute!  That one with the gray clothes was standin’ on the corner by the express office when I come out.  I recollec’ now.  He was smokin’ a cigar.”

“Yes.  And he thrun it away when he went in there.  I seen him at the telephone there on the desk—­and pretty soon along comes his friend.  Looks kind of queer that he was up at the Square when you was, and then trails down here where we be.”

“You think mebby—­”

“I dunno.  If it is we better drift out at the back afore any of ’em gits round there.”

“And leave our stuff, eh?”

“Yes.  We got to move quick.  They ‘re sizin’ up this buildin’ right now.  Don’t show yourself.  Wait!  One of ’em is comin’ out and he’s headed over here.”

Brevoort drew back, and stepping to the door opened it and strode swiftly down the dim hall to a window at its farther end.  Below the window was a shed, and beyond the farther edge of the shed-roof was an alley.  He hastened back to the room and closed and locked the door.  “You loco?” he growled.  Pete had drawn a chair to the window and was sitting there, looking out as casually as though there was no danger whatever.

“I thought you made your get-away,” said Pete, turning.  “I was jest keepin’ that hombre interested in watchin’ me.  Thought if he seen somebody here he wouldn’t make no quick move to follow you.”