“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:
“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.”
“How much?”
