For the moment Howland had not thought of a stair.
Jean's attitude drew his eyes. The Frenchman had thrust himself half out
of the screening bushes and was staring through the telescope of his
hands. With an exclamation he turned quickly to the engineer.
"Look, M'seur! Do you see that man climbing the stair? I don't mind
telling you that he is the one who hit you over the head on the trail,
and also one of those who shut you up in the coyote. Those are his
quarters at the post, and possibly he is going up to see Meleese. If you
were much of a shot you could settle a score or two from here, M'seur."
The figure had stopped, evidently on a platform midway up the side of
the building. He stood for a moment as if scanning the plain between him
and the mountain, then disappeared. Howland had not spoken a word, but
every nerve in his body tingled strangely.
"You say Meleese--is there?" he questioned hesitatingly. "And he--who is
that man, Croisset?"
Jean shrugged his shoulders and drew himself back into the bush, turning
leisurely toward the old cabin.
"_Non_, M'seur, I will not tell you that," he protested. "I have brought
you to this place. I have pointed out to you the stair that leads to the
room where you will find Meleese.
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