“You mean highwaymen?”

“Yes.”

“Is there much danger of meeting them?” asked Melville.

“Well, there’s a chance.  They are quite in the habit of attacking stage-coaches, and plundering the passengers.  Sometimes they make rich hauls.”

“That must be rather inconvenient to the passengers.” said Melville.  “Can’t the laws reach these outlaws?”

“They don’t seem to.  Why, there are men who have been in the business for years, and have never been caught.”

“Very true,” said a fellow traveler.  “There’s Jerry Lane, for instance.  He has succeeded thus far in eluding the vigilance of the authorities.”

“Yes,” said the colonel, “I once saw Lane myself.  Indeed he did me the honor of relieving me of five hundred dollars.”

“Couldn’t you help it?” asked Herbert.

“No; he covered me with his revolver, and if I had drawn mine I shouldn’t have lived to take aim at him.”

“Were you in a stage at the time?”

“No, I was riding on horseback.”

“Is this Lane a large man?” asked George Melville.

“Not larger than myself,” continued the colonel.

“Where does he live—­in some secret haunt in the forest, I suppose?”

“Oh, no, he doesn’t confine himself to one place.  He travels a good deal.  Sometimes he goes to St. Louis.  I have heard that he sometimes even visits New York.”

“And is he not recognized?”

“No; he looks like anything but an outlaw.  If you should see him you might think him a prosperous merchant, or banker.”

“That’s curious!” said Herbert.

“The fact is,” said the colonel, “when you travel by stage-coaches in these solitudes you have to take the chances.  Now I carry my money concealed in an inner pocket, where it isn’t very likely to be found.  Of course I have another wallet, just for show, and I give that up when I have to.”

There was a stout, florid gentleman present, who listened to the above conversation with ill-disguised nervousness.  He was a New York capitalist, of German birth, going out to inspect a mine in which he proposed purchasing an interest.  His name was Conrad Stiefel.

“Good gracious!” said he, “I had no idea a man ran such a risk, or I would have stayed at home.  I decidedly object to being robbed.”

“Men are robbed in a different way in New York,” said George Melville.

“How do you mean, Mr. Melville?”

“By defaulting clerks, absconding cashiers, swindlers of excellent social position.”

“Oh, we don’t mind those things,” said Mr. Stiefel.  “We can look out for ourselves.  But when a man points at you with a revolver, that is terrible!”

“I hope, my dear sir, you take good care of your money.”

“That I do,” said Stiefel, complacently.  “I carry it in a belt around my waist.  That’s a good place, hey?”

“I commend your prudence, sir,” said the colonel.  “You are evidently a wise and judicious man.”