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me.”

“Should hope he will. And what’ll you do now, Rodney?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think it would be well to go to some other city, Boston or Philadelphia, where Jasper can’t get on my track.”

“Should hope you won’t do it. I can’t get along widout you.”

“I will stay here for a few weeks, Mike, and see if anything turns up.”

“I might get you in as a telegraph boy.”

“That wouldn’t suit me. It doesn’t pay enough.”

Rodney began to hunt for a situation again, but four weeks passed and brought him no success. One afternoon about four o’clock he was walking up Broadway when, feeling tired, he stepped into the Continental Hotel at the corner of Twentieth Street.

He took a seat at some distance back from the door, and in a desultory way began to look about him. All at once he started in surprise, for in a man sitting in one of the front row of chairs he recognized Louis Wheeler, the railroad thief who had stolen his box of jewelry.

Wheeler was conversing with a man with a large flapping sombrero, and whose dress and general appearance indicated that he was a Westerner.

Rodney left his seat and going forward sat down in the chair behind Wheeler. He suspected that the Western man was in danger of being victimized.





CHAPTER XXII.

AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE TURNS UP.

In his new position Rodney could easily hear the conversation which took place between the Western man and his old railroad acquaintance.

“I am quite a man of leisure,” said Wheeler, “and it will give me great pleasure to go about with you and show you our city.”

“You are very obliging.”

“Oh, don’t mention it. I shall really be glad to have my time occupied. You see I am a man of means—my father left me a fortune—and so I am not engaged in any business.”

“You are in luck. I was brought up on a farm in Vermont, and had to borrow money to take me to Montana four years ago.”

“I hope you prospered in your new home?”

“I did. I picked up twenty five thousand dollars at the mines, and doubled it by investment in lots in Helena.”

“Very neat, indeed. I inherited a fortune from my father—a hundred and twenty five thousand dollars—but I never made a cent myself. I don’t know whether I am smart enough.”

“Come out to Montana and I’ll put you in a way of making some money.”

“Really, now, that suggestion strikes me favorably. I believe I will follow your advice. When shall you return to your Western home?”

“In about a fortnight I think.”

“You must go to the theater tonight. There is a good play on at the Madison Square.”

“I don’t mind. When can I get ticket?”

“I’ll go and secure some. It is only a few blocks away.”

“Do so. How much are the tickets?”

“A dollar and a half or two dollars each.”

“Here are five dollars, if it won’t trouble you too much.”

“My dear friend, I meant to pay for the tickets. However, I will pay next time. If you will remain here I will be back in twenty minutes.”

Louis Wheeler left the hotel with the five dollars tucked away in his vest pocket.

He had no sooner disappeared than Rodney went forward and occupied his seat.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said to the miner, “but do you know much of the man who has just left you?”

“I only met him here. He seems a good natured fellow. What of him?”

“He said he was a man of independent means.”

“Isn’t he?”

“He is a thief and an adventurer.”

The miner was instantly on the alert.

“How do you know this?” he asked.

“Because he stole a box of jewelry from me in the cars some months ago.”

“Did you get it again?”

“Yes; he left the train, but I followed him up and reclaimed the jewelry.”

“Was it of much value?”

“They were family jewels, and were worth over a thousand dollars.”

“Do you think he wants to bunco me?”

“I have no doubt of it.”

“I have given him money to buy theater tickets. Do you think he will come back?”

“Yes. He wouldn’t be satisfied with that small sum.”

“Tell me about your adventure with him.”

“I will do it later. The theater is so near that he might come back and surprise us together. I think he would recognize me.”

“Do you advise me to go to the theater?”

“Yes, but be on your guard.”

“Where can I see you again?”

“Are you staying at this hotel?”

“Yes. Here is my card.”

Rodney read this name on the card:

JEFFERSON PETTRIGREW.

“I wish you were going to the theater with us.”

“It wouldn’t do. Mr. Wheeler would remember me.”

“Then come round and breakfast with me tomorrow—at eight o’clock, sharp.”

“I will, sir. Now I will take a back seat, and leave you to receive your friend.”

“Don’t call him my friend. He seems to be a mean scoundrel.”

“Don’t let him suspect anything from your manner.”

“I won’t. I want to see him expose his plans.” Five minutes afterwards Louis Wheeler entered the hotel.

“I’ve got the tickets,” he said, “but I had to buy them of a speculator, and they cost me more than I expected.”

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