At length, however, as night was falling, he encountered a saloon-keeper, who in answer to his inquiries gruffly informed him, that a person answering Duncan's description and mounted upon a pony resembling his, had stopped in his saloon a few days before, and had gone away in the direction of the Yellowstone Park.
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.

After carefully weighing the matter, Manning decided to act upon this latter information, and to start for Helena that evening.