The Haunted Mine

CHAPTER XI

IN DENVER

"Did the man find anything of value in your valises?" asked the red-faced man, as the boys turned toward the front part of the car.

"He could have bought everything I had in my valise for two dollars," said Jack, with a laugh. "It seems funny that he should want to put himself in danger of arrest for that."

"He got a book in mine," said Julian. "Of course I have read it before, but I wanted to read it again. Say, Jack," he continued, when the latter reached the door and was about to open it, "if the man was Claus, don't you suppose he had an eye on that box?"

Jack released the door and leaned up heavily against it. Such an idea had never occurred to him.

"He watched us while we were in St. Louis, and when he saw us ready to come out, he got on the same train with us."

"What a lucky thing it was that we sent that box off by express!" Jack almost gasped. "Of course it was Claus, and we shall not find him on this train, either. He jumped off at that station back there."

"Let us go and see. If he is going to follow us in this way, we are going to be in a fix, the first thing you know."

Jack opened the door and went out, and Julian followed close at his heels. They went slowly through the cars, looking sharply at every man they saw on the train, but nobody with "a very German cast of countenance" could be seen. The next thing was to try the other end of the train. Jack led the way, as before, and when they got into their own car the red-faced man, who seemed to take an interest in their success, said, in a low tone.

"Did you find him?"

"No," replied Jack; "he must have got off at the station. We are going through the sleeping-cars, and, if he is not there, we will have to give him up."

In the next car there was no one who looked like Claus, and when they opened the door of the next car, and entered the vestibuled part of the train, they found themselves in an entry which was fitted up in the most gorgeous manner. A negro porter stood in front of the window looking out, and when he saw who the boys were, he stepped up in front of them.

"Does you want to see somebody on dis train?" he asked.

"Well, I should say we did," replied Jack. "Some one has stolen our valises, and we want to find him."

"Dat's bad. Has you got a ticket?"

"Of course we have. Don't you see the slips in our caps?"

"But I mean a ticket for dis part of de train. If you hasn't got one, you can't go in."

This was a new arrangement to Jack. The last time he travelled on the railroad it was when the hands connected with the railroad-shop gave an excursion and a picnic, and then he had no difficulty in going all over the train; but he saw the beauty of it at once.

"Then we will have to give it up," said he, turning toward the door. "That man may be here and have our valises, and we can't help ourselves."

"Mebbe not," said the negro. "What kind of a looking man was he? I will go over the train and look for him."

Jack described the man as well as he could from the description the passenger had given him, and the negro went out.

"Just see what we would have got we had taken a sleeping-coach," whispered Julian. "No one can come near you except those who purchased tickets at the depot."

"We'll come to that after a while," said Jack. "Wait until we get our money. Just now it seems as though we shall have to be constantly on the watch."

The negro was gone a long time, but our friends found themselves busy in taking a note of all their surroundings. There must have been a good deal of money spent upon that sleeping-car. There did not seem to be a cheap thing about it. One or two passengers, who had slept late and were just getting up, came in, and yawned, and stretched, and prepared to go through their ablutions. They merely glanced at the two boys, and went on with their work. They did not care for the eating-stations that were scattered along the route; when they were hungry, they could go into the dining-coach and get all they wanted.

"I tell you, it is worth while to know where your money is coming from when you travel," thought Julian; "one feels so much safer."

By the time he had reached this conclusion the negro appeared.

"Dar ain't a man on dis train that looks like the one you spoke of," said he. "Dey's all Americans; the last man-jack of them."

"Thank you," said Jack. "Our man has got off at the station. I hope he will get rich on what he found in those valises."

The two friends went back to their own car, and to the inquiry of the passenger who sat behind them replied that the man had left the train as soon as he got the valises. Then they settled down and prepared to enjoy their journey; but it must be confessed that Claus came into their minds very frequently. If he was the one who took their valises, they were certain that they had not seen the last of him yet.

"And to think that that fellow watched us all the while we were in St. Louis," said Jack, leaning over and whispering the words to Julian. "He may watch us after we get in Denver. Who knows?"

But Claus, if that was the man, did not come near them any more during their journey. They grew weary, of course, and Julian, having no book to read, slept most of the way. Their night was passed in much the same way that the first one was, and about two o'clock in the morning they arrived at Denver. The appearance of the city, wrapped though it was in slumber, surprised them. There were as many people running about in the depot as there were in St. Louis, and all appeared to have work to do. The man to whom they had given their check was there to show them the way to their omnibus, and Julian, while he was on the way to it, looked all around for Indians, but did not see any. The hotel was as large as those they had left in St. Louis, and almost before they knew it they were in their room with two beds in it, the porter had carried up their trunk, had bid them good-night, and they were alone.

"Say, Jack, there's more houses than wigwams here, is there not?"

"I was just thinking so myself," said Jack. "Denver is a big city. Now, the next thing is something else. It is something I don't like to think of. That letter which Mr. Wiggins wrote to the agent here may help us some, but we have something to prove after that."

"Well, don't let us worry about that to-night," said Julian. "Perhaps in the morning it will look different."

Julian had never slept in so comfortable a bed before, and when sleep overpowered him he did not know a thing until he opened his eyes in the morning and saw Jack standing at the window, with his suspenders about his waist, looking through the window at some mountains which seemed to be looming up close at hand.

"When we get settled, if we ever do, we must walk out there and take a view from the top," said he.

"How far are they away from here?"

"About two or three miles, probably. I believe if we get on the summit of those mountains we can see California."

"I have just thought of another thing that may bother us some," said Julian. "I don't know whether the express clerks will want us to identify ourselves before they give us that box, but if they do – then what?"

"Although we are in the right, there is always something to bother us," said Jack, seating himself in the nearest chair. "What will we do?"

"We can't do anything except to write to St. Louis. There is nobody here that knows us from Adam."

That was something that bothered Jack during breakfast, but at eight o'clock, the hour when the express offices are generally open, they were directed by the clerk how to reach it, and in process of time drew up before the counter. To Julian's inquiry if there was a box there addressed to himself the clerk placed the box before him, and never asked him who he was or where he came from.

"Now, the next thing is to keep an eye out for the telegraph office. If you see a sign sticking out, let me know it."

"I see a sign already," said Jack, pointing it out.

Julian began to feel a little more at home. He had worked in a telegraph office, and he was certain that he was going among friends. The boys were there, and they came up to wait on him, but Julian went ahead until he confronted the operator at his desk.

"Is Mr. Fay in?" Julian asked.

"Yes, sir. He is in his private office. Would you like to see him?"

"I would thank you first to give me a screw-driver so that I can take this cover off. There is a letter in here addressed to him."

The screw-driver was soon forthcoming, and while Julian was at work at it, a hustling little man suddenly stood before him.

"Do you want to see me?" he asked, in a business way.

Julian had by this time taken out the letter, which was placed on top, and handed it to Mr. Fay, who leaned against the counter and read it. The boys watched him closely, and finally saw his eyes light up with surprise.

"This letter has a stamp on it, so I know it is all right," said he. "But this man Wiggins I never heard of. Come into the office."

The boys followed him, seating themselves in chairs that were pointed out to them, while Mr. Fay went on reading the letter. He was utterly amazed, and looked at the two friends as if he could scarcely believe it.

"Which one of you boys is Julian Gray?" he asked. "You are? Then I congratulate you from the bottom of my heart. You struck it rich once in buying 'old horse,' didn't you? How long have you been with Mr. Wiggins?"

Julian began, and told as much of his history as he was willing that any stranger should know – all except about pulling him out from under the feet of the runaway horses. He thought that that was a sacred matter between him and Mr. Wiggins, and so he said nothing about it.

"And how about your friend, here, John Sheldon?" said he. "You see, I want to get at the bottom of all your doings, so that I can explain it to Mr. Gibson, Mr. Winkleman's lawyer. We know of that man, and we know why he left; but we want to be certain that you have a right to the box."

Jack began and related his story; and although Mr. Wiggins did not say much about it, never having been acquainted with Jack, the tale he told was so honest and truthful that Mr. Fay could not but believe him.

"Well, boys, I will go with you to see Mr. Gibson," said the operator. "It all rests with him. You see, all these things happened eleven months ago, and he has collected considerable money in rent for all these places. You will come in for fifteen or twenty thousand dollars at the start. He may want to ask you some questions."

What Mr. Fay said almost took the boys' breath away. They had hardly anything in their pockets, and to be told that they were worth ten thousand dollars apiece was almost too good for belief. They followed Mr. Fay out on the street – the way he moved proved that he had come up from the ranks – and up the stairs that led to Mr. Gibson's office. They found the lawyer in there, walking up and down, but he stopped long enough to bid Mr. Fay good-morning.

"What have these young men been doing?" said he, pulling up a chair for each one to sit down. "More lawsuits, I suppose."

"No, sir, there is no law in this except what you have a mind to tell us. Read this letter; but first let me introduce the boys."

Mr. Gibson said he was glad to see them, and then commenced the letter, and before he had read it half-way through he whistled and looked at them with intense surprise.

"Well, sir, you have done it, have you not?" said he. "Now, whom have you to prove that you bought this 'old horse' at the express office?"

"Read on, sir, and I think the letter will answer that question for you," replied Julian. "I told Mr. Wiggins about it. That is all he knows of it."

Mr. Gibson finished the letter at last, and then turned and gave the boys a good looking over. He evidently was not thinking about them at all, but about some point of law that had just occurred to him. Finally he said.

"I want you to understand that I believe your story, but in order to be all right in everything, and leave nothing for anybody to pick a flaw with, I would like to know what you did to look up this man Haberstro."

"If I were in your place, Gibson," said Mr. Fay, "I would write to Mr. Wiggins and the president of that bank, and get a full history of the boys. They will tell the truth."

"Let me suggest to you, also, the name of Mr. Dawson," said Jack. "I used to work for him, and he knows all about me."

The lawyer took down the three addresses of the men he wanted to write to.

"Have you young fellows any money?" asked the lawyer.

"Yes, sir, a little."

"Will it last you two weeks?"

The two friends were sure it would last them as long as that.

"Where are you stopping?"

Julian replied that they were stopping at some hotel, but they did not know which one.

"Well, Fay will no doubt direct you to a cheaper boarding-house than that. What are you boys going to do with this?" said Mr. Gibson, placing his hand upon the box.

"We want to put it somewhere so it will be safe," said Julian.

"Shall I take charge of it for you? I will put it in the bank. It is most too valuable for me to carry around."

"Yes, sir."

After a little more conversation his two clients went out. The lawyer sat for a long time thinking the matter over, and at last he got up, took the box under his arm and started for the bank. He had decided that he would go to St. Louis that very night.

CHAPTER XII

CASPER NEVINS, THE SPY

"No, sir," said Casper, leaning over and placing his elbows on his knees, his eyes gazing thoughtfully at the floor; "you don't get any more five cents out of me, yet awhile, to pay for cigars. I have got only ten dollars, and I am anxious to make that do. Now, what shall I go at next?"

Casper Nevins was in a predicament the first thing he knew. He claimed to be an orphan, the same as Julian was; but those who were well acquainted with his history knew that he had a mother in a Western village who was a dressmaker, and who would have been glad to get every cent he could send her. But Casper never sent her any money. On the contrary, he often appealed to her to forward him a few dimes, to pay his debts for pool and cigars. Claus often got into him a dollar or two on the games he lost, and his mother was the only person he had to call on. Now he had lost his position, and the next thing was to find something else to do. He was really afraid he would have to go to work with his hands. He thought of Jack Sheldon, dirty and begrimed as he was when he came from the shop, and wondered how he would look in that fix. And, another thing, he wasn't satisfied that he could get as good a position as Jack held. Aside from being acquainted with the city and carrying the telegraphic dispatches, there was nothing else that he could do.

"I tell you I am up a stump," said Casper to himself; "I shall soon be sweeping out saloons, as Julian did, to pay for my breakfast. I would rather die than do that."

When he had reached this point in his meditations the door opened, and Claus came in with a couple of cigars in his hand. He did not seem to be at all worried over his failure to get his hands upon that box, but he was whistling a jig as he closed the door and offered a cigar to Casper.

"What is the matter with you, any way?" he asked, when he saw the gloomy look on Casper's face. "You act as though you had lost your last friend."

"What am I going to do now?" asked Casper. "I have no trade, no profession, and I must do something to keep myself in grub. There is no pool or cigars for me from this time on."

"Well, let that thing go until I tell you my story," said Claus, who did not like to hear a man talk in this way. He knew that he was to blame for Casper's shortness of funds – a good deal of his hard earnings was located in Claus's own pockets – and he wanted to make him look on the bright side of things while he was in his presence. When he got away where he could not see him, then he could indulge in moody thoughts as often as he pleased.

"I wish I had not played pool with you as often as I have," said Casper, showing a little spirit. "Every time I have crossed cues with you I have always been out three or four dollars. Why don't you play with somebody else?"

"Well, if you are going to talk that way I'll go on," said Claus, getting up from his chair. "What I was going to say was that I don't believe that box is gone yet. I have tried twice to get it and have failed; but there is a charm in everything. Three times and out is what I go by; but if you don't want to hear what I have to say, why, good-night."

"Well, sit down," said Casper, who couldn't bear to let Claus go away if he had anything to say concerning that box; "but you yourself would be angry if you were in my fix."

"Oh, I have been that way lots of times. I have been so I didn't know where my next meal was coming from."

"I have been that way, too," said Casper. "The other night you got ten cents of me, and it was the last cent I had in the world; I had to get my next meal at the free-lunch saloons."

"I didn't know you were as hard up as that," said Casper, with surprise. "Have you money with which to get breakfast to-morrow?"

"Not a cent."

"Then here are twenty cents," said Claus, putting his hand into his pocket. "Two meals will do you. In the meantime, if you get hard up for something to eat, go to the saloons; that's the way I do."

"Yes, but you always get something else. If I go in there and dabble with their lunch, the barkeeper will want to know why I don't get something to drink."

"Then walk out and go to another saloon. You ain't posted. Now, I want to tell you my story. It isn't long, and I want to ask you a question before I get through."

When Claus said this, Casper settled back in his chair and tried to look interested; but the trouble was, he only succeeded in looking guilty.

"I have just come from Julian's room," continued Claus, "and I threatened him with the police. He called me by my own name, or Jack did, and I want to know who has been telling him that. Did you?"

"I never said a word to him about you or anybody else," said Casper, looking Claus squarely in the eye.

"Did you say anything to Mr. Wiggins about it?"

"Never a word. There might have been a detective in the office while you were there."

"A detective? Who was it?"

"I am sure I don't know. But if he knew your name, there was where he got it. You went up to the pool-room after you got through there? Well, did anybody follow you up to see what your name was?"

"There was nobody up there that I saw, and I took mighty good care to watch out. I threatened him with the police for addressing me by that name, and he just as good as told me to go and get them."

"What made you say police at all? What had he done?"

"I wanted him to get the box and let me read the papers in it, because I wanted to be sure that they were intended for me; but he would not do it."

"Of course he would not!" exclaimed Casper, in disgust. "That was a pretty way to do business, wasn't it?"

"I calculated, if he brought the box in there, to steal it away from them," said Claus. "If I once got out on the street, I would like to see anybody catch me. I would have hung around this city for a month but that I would have got away with it."

"And what would I be doing in the meantime?"

"You would have known where I was," said Claus, bending toward Casper and speaking in a whisper. "I would have found means to communicate with you. Of course if I had got that box you would have had a share of it."

Casper did not know whether to believe this or not. Somehow he had felt suspicious of Claus ever since the first night he spoke to him about the box. If the German got it without any of his help, he was sure that he never would see any of it.

"Well, you failed in that scheme, and I would like to know if you have some other means of getting hold of it."

"Certainly I have. Three times and out is what I go by. My next scheme will be to steal the box from them on the train."

"How are you going to do that?"

"We will keep watch of them, and when they are ready to go to Denver, we will go, too. You know their habits better than I do, and by keeping your eyes on them – "

"Well, I won't do it," said Casper, emphatically. "They may not go for a month yet, and I must have something to eat in the meantime."

"I will give you twenty cents a day and enough to pay your rent," said Claus. "That will keep you going, won't it?"

"You must give me more than that. I shall need a cigar once in a while, won't I?"

"Then I will give you thirty cents. You don't want to smoke more than two cigars every day, do you?"

The question where Claus earned the money he had was a mystery to every one except himself. When the police arrested him for vagrancy and the justice fined him ten dollars, believing that he was going to shut him up for two months, Claus pulled out a roll of greenbacks as large as one's wrist. The justice gazed at him in surprise and said.

"I had no idea that you were so well heeled as that."

"I have a relative in Europe who sends me money once in a while," said Claus.