At the end of a month Jefferson Pettigrew said: "I've been looking over the books, Rodney, and I find the business is better than I expected. How much did I agree to pay you?""A hundred and fifty dollars a month, but if you think that it is too much----""Too much? Why I am going to advance you to two hundred and fifty.""You can't be in earnest, Mr. Pettigrew?""I am entirely so."
"That is at the rate of three thousand dollars a year!""Yes, but you are earning it.""You know I am only a boy."
"That doesn't make any difference as long as you understand your business.""I am very grateful to you, Mr. Pettigrew. My, I can save two hundred dollars a month.""Do so, and I will find you a paying investment for the money.""What would Jasper say to my luck?" thought Rodney.
Three months passed without any incident worth recording.
One afternoon a tall man wearing a high hat and a Prince Albert coat with a paste diamond of large size in his shirt bosom entered the public room of the Miners' Rest and walking up to the bar prepared to register his name. As he stood with his pen in his hand Rodney recognized him not without amazement.
It was Louis Wheeler--the railroad thief, whom he had last seen in New York.
As for Wheeler he had not taken any notice of the young clerk, not suspecting that it was an old acquaintance who was familiar with his real character.
"Have you just arrived in Montana, Mr. Wheeler?" asked Rodney quietly.
As Rodney had not had an opportunity to examine his signature in the register Wheeler looked up in quiet surprise.
"Do you know me?" he asked.
"Yes; don't you know me?"
"I'll be blowed if it isn't the kid," ejaculated Wheeler.
"As I run this hotel, I don't care to be called a kid.""All right Mr.----""Ropes."
"Mr. Ropes, you are the most extraordinary boy I ever met.""Am I?""Who would have thought of your turning up as a Montana landlord.""I wouldn't have thought of it myself four months ago. But what brings you out here?""Business," answered Wheeler in an important tone.
"Are you going to become a miner?"
"I may buy a mine if I find one to suit me."
"I am glad you seem to be prospering."
"Can you give me a good room?"
"Yes, but I must ask a week's advance payment.""How much?""Twenty five dollars."
"All right. Here's the money."
Louis Wheeler pulled out a well filled wallet and handed over two ten dollar bills and a five.
"Is that satisfactory?" he asked.
"Quite so. You seem better provided with money than when I saw you last.""True. I was then in temporary difficulty. But I made a good turn in stocks and I am on my feet again."Rodney did not believe a word of this, but as long as Wheeler was able to pay his board he had no good excuse for refusing him accommodation.
"That rascal here!" exclaimed Jefferson, when Rodney informed him of Wheeler's arrival. "Well, thats beat all! What has brought him out here?""Business, he says.""It may be the same kind of business that he had with me.
He will bear watching."
"I agree with you, Mr. Pettigrew."
Louis Wheeler laid himself out to be social and agreeable, and made himself quite popular with the other boarders at the hotel.
As Jefferson and Rodney said nothing about him, he was taken at his own valuation, and it was reported that he was a heavy capitalist from Chicago who had come to Montana to buy a mine.
This theory received confirmation both from his speech and actions.
On the following day he went about in Oreville and examined the mines. He expressed his opinion freely in regard to what he saw, and priced one that was for sale at fifty thousand dollars.
"I like this mine," he said, "but I don't know enough about it to make an offer. If it comes up to my expectations I will try it.""He must have been robbing a bank," observed Jefferson Pettigrew.
Nothing could exceed the cool assurance with which Wheeler greeted Jefferson and recalled their meeting in New York.
