The stable in which Manning had established himself, was arranged with a row of stalls on either side, with a wide passage-way extending between them.  He therefore ensconced himself in the vacant stall immediately opposite to the burglar’s horse, and where he could see him at all times.  By peering through the crevices in the woodwork he also commanded a full view of the entrance, and was thus enabled to see all who entered the barn.  Slowly the morning waned away and as yet no sign of the man for whom he was waiting.  How many times he had fancied he heard the longed-for footstep, and peered anxiously out, only to be disappointed, it would be impossible to tell.  At length, however, just as he was about to despair of success, he heard footsteps at the door, and peeping through the opening in the stall, he saw the figure of the man for whose appearance he had watched so long, and whose face had haunted him day and night since he had started in pursuit of him.  There he stood, not a dozen feet away from him, and as the detective gazed at the unsuspecting thief, a thrill of pleasurable excitement filled his being.  In a moment, however, he had controlled himself; and perfectly calm and collected, he watched the man before him.  There was no doubt that Duncan was contemplating a renewal of his journey.  He was dressed in a hunting suit of heavy brown ducking, with high top boots and a wide brimmed sombrero, while across his shoulders was slung a leather bag, which was filled probably with clothing and provisions.  In his hand he carried a splendid repeating rifle, and a brace of pistols were in his belt.

All this the detective was able to note in the brief moment that Duncan paused at the door, as if looking for some one to whom he could give orders for the saddling of his horse.  Seeing no one about the place, however, he set his rifle down in a corner by the door, and walked slowly down the passage until he reached the stall where his pony was standing.

He was now directly in front of the spot where the detective was concealed, but with his back toward the operative.  As he turned to go into the stall, Manning stopped quickly forward, with his revolver in his hand, and grasping Duncan firmly by the shoulder, he said: 

“Thomas Duncan, I have caught you at last.”

Duncan started as though he had been shot, as these words rang in his ears, and he felt the grasp of the detective’s strong arm.  In an instant he recovered himself, and his hand quickly sought one of the revolvers in his belt.  The detective, however, was too quick for him, and placing the muzzle of his pistol against the burglar’s cheek, he said, determinedly: 

“If you attempt to draw your pistol, I’ll blow your brains out!”

[Illustration:  “If you attempt to draw your pistol, I’ll blow out your brains!”]

Duncan felt that it was useless to attempt to trifle with the resolute man before him, and his arms dropped to his side.