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"Well, well! His son, eh? Glad to know you, downright glad!" And Jack Wumble nearly wrung d.i.c.k's hand off. Then Tom and d.i.c.k were introduced, and more handshaking followed, and the boys felt that they had found a true friend beyond a doubt.
CHAPTER XIX
THE BURLY STRANGER'S LITTLE GAME
"I'm more than glad to have met you as we did," said d.i.c.k, a little later, after Jack Wumble had asked the boys about their father. "I think it has saved us from getting into a lot of trouble."
And he related the particulars of the meeting with Henry Bradner, and what the stranger had said and done concerning Wumble.
"The snake!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed the old miner pa.s.sionately. "He's a sharp, true as you are born! Why, I never put up at the Palace of the West in my life."
"I wish I knew what his game was," went on d.i.c.k.
"You will know d.i.c.k--if I can get my hands on him. Do you reckon as how he is over to that other hotel now?"
"More than likely."
"Unless he shadowed us to here," burst out Tom. "If he did that he must know his game is up, and you can be sure he will keep out of sight."
The matter was talked over, and it was decided that Jack Wumble and the boys should go to the other hotel without delay.
On the way d.i.c.k told the old miner what had brought them to the West. Jack Wumble took a deep interest in all mining schemes, and listened closely to all the youth had to say.
"Yes, I remember about the Eclipse Mine," he said. "And I remember this Arnold Baxter, too. He was a bad one, and if I and some others had our say he would have dangled from a tree for his stealings, for, you see, we didn't have no jails in those days, and stealing was a capital crime."
"It will you help us to locate the mine before Arnold Baxter or his confederates can get on the ground? We will pay you for your trouble."
"Certainly, I'll do what I can. But I--don't want any of Anderson Rover's pile--not me. Why, your father nursed me through the worst case o' fever a miner ever had--an' I ain't forgittin' it, lads.
I'll stick to ye to the end." And the old miner put out his hand and gave another squeeze that made d.i.c.k wince.
The Palace of the West reached, Wumble pushed his way into the smoke-laden office and to the desk.
"Say, is there a man named Jack Wumble stopping here?" he demanded.
"Jack Wumble," repeated the clerk slowly.
"That's what I said."
"There is a Jack Wimple stopping here--but he is out--gone to St.
Louis."
"Jack Wimple? He's not the man," and the old miner fell back and repeated what had been said to the three boys.
"Perhaps Bradner made a mistake," suggested Tom. "But I don't believe it."
"He tried to make us believe this hotel and the Western Palace were one and the same," put in Sam.
"He's sharp, I tell you," declared Jack Wumble. "Just wait till I get on his trail, I'll make him tell us the truth. More than likely he wanted to clean you boys out."
They waited around for the best part of an hour, but Henry Bradner failed to return, and at last they gave up looking for him, and the boys went back to where they had hired a room for the night, promising to rejoin Jack Wumble early in the morning, when the whole party would take a train for Denver, where Wumble wished to transact a little business before starting out for Larkspur Creek.
The boys had not slept very well on the train, so they were thoroughly tired out. They were on the point of retiring when a bell-boy came up stating that their friend wished to see d.i.c.k for a few minutes.
"Wumble must have forgotten something," said d.i.c.k. "I'll see what it is," and he took the elevator to the ground floor.
To his surprise it was not Wumble who wished to see him, but Henry Bradner.
"What, you!" cried the youth. "I thought you had skipped out."
"Skipped out?" queried the burly man in pretended surprise. "Why should I skip out?"
"Don't you know that we have found you out?"
"Found me out? You are talking in riddles, young man." And the stranger drew himself up proudly.
"We have found Mr. Jack Wumble, and he tells us that he never stopped at the Palace of the West in his life."
"Mr. Jack Wimple, you mean. Why, he is certainly at the hotel--or was."
"We were looking for Mr. Wumble--and you know it. I care nothing for your Mr. Wimple. And besides, you told us that the Western Palace and the Palace of the West were one and the same. That was a deliberate falsehood."
Bradner turned pale, and looked as if he wished to catch d.i.c.k by the throat. "Have a care, young man!" he hissed. "I am not a man to be trifled with. I tried to do you a good turn, but I see I have put my foot into it. Henceforth you can take care of yourself."
So speaking, Henry Bradner turned on his heel and strode off, a look of baffled rage in his eyes. Instantly d.i.c.k turned to a bell-boy.
"Run up to room 233 and tell Tom Rover to come down at once and follow his brother," he said hurriedly. "I can't go up--I want to watch that man, for he's a crook."
The boy seemed to understand, and flew for the stairs, the elevator being out of sight. d.i.c.k ran to the door, to behold Bradner standing on the sidewalk as if undecided which way to pursue his course. But presently he walked slowly up the street. d.i.c.k followed him, and had gone less than half a block when Tom joined him, all out of breath with running.
"What is it, d.i.c.k?"
"It was Bradner, who came to smooth matters over. I am following him to see if I can't get on to his game."
"Oh, what nerve! I should think he would have been afraid to come near us."
"He's a bold one, Tom, and we must look out that we don't get bit by him."
Henry Bradner covered half a dozen blocks of the street upon which the hotel was located, and then turned into a narrow thoroughfare running toward the Chicago river.
Here were a number of low drinking places, and in front of one of these he stopped. Instead of entering the resort by the main door he went in through a side hallway, which led to a rear room.
"Perhaps he is stopping here," suggested Tom, as the two lads came to a halt.
"Well, if that is so we had better remember the place," answered d.i.c.k.