He had seen Jack Belllounds before.
Wade never made mistakes in faces, though he often had a task to recall names.

And he began to go over the recent past, recalling all that he could remember of Meeker, and Cripple Creek, where he had worked for several months, and so on, until he had gone back as far as his last trip to Denver.
"Must have been there," mused Wade, thoughtfully, and he tried to recall all the faces he had seen.

This was impossible, of course, yet he remembered many.

Then he visualized the places in Denver that for one reason or another had struck him particularly.

Suddenly into one of these flashed the pale, sullen, bold face of Jack Belllounds.
"It was _there!_" he exclaimed, incredulously.