This was rather disappointing intelligence, for it required him to
retrace his steps, and go back over ground which he had already
traveled. However, if the information was reliable, no time was to be
lost, and he started from the saloon to commence his preparations at
once.
While at the bar, he had noticed a sturdy, honest-looking miner, who was
taking a drink, and who had stopped and looked intently at him while the
proprietor had given him the information above mentioned. As Manning
left the saloon, the man followed him a short distance, and when out of
sight of the saloon called after him; Manning stopped and the man came
toward him.
"Mister," said he, as he approached the detective, "ef ye go to the
park, you won't find the man yer arter, that's a dead sure thing."
"What do you mean?" asked Manning with some surprise.
"I means as how the boss of the saloon yonder has lied to ye, that's
all."
"What makes you think so?"
"Bekase I passed the man ye wor askin' about three days ago, on the road
to Helena."
"Are you sure about this?"
"Well, I reckon I am. I couldn't make much of a mistake about that
white-faced pony he wor a-ridin'."
Requesting the miner to accompany him to the hotel, Manning interrogated
him closely about the appearance of the man, and found that he was
giving him the correct information, as his description of Duncan tallied
precisely with what he himself had already learned.
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