The positiveness of his identification and his indignation resulted in a
change in Wilkins' manner.

"I'll ask you to stay here until I come back." His tone was official,
but less suspicious. "We'll have him in a half hour. It's Clark all
right. I'm not saying you knew it was Clark, but I want to ask you some
questions."

He went out, and Bassett heard him shouting an order in the street. He
went to the street door, and realized that a search was going on, both
by the police and by unofficial volunteers. Men on horseback clattered
by to guard the borders of the town, and in the vicinity of the hotel
searchers were investigating yards and alleyways.

Bassett himself was helpless. He stood by, watching the fire of his own
igniting, conscious of the curious scrutiny of the few hotel loungers
who remained, and expecting momentarily to hear of Dick's capture. It
must come eventually, he felt sure. As to how Dick had been identified,
or by what means he had escaped, he was in complete ignorance; and an
endeavor to learn by establishing the former entente cordiale between
the room clerk and himself was met by a suspicious glance and what
amounted to a snub. He went back to his chair against the wall and sat
there, waiting for the end.

It was an hour before the sheriff returned, and he came in scowling.