HOW CASPER WAS SERVED.
"Come on, now, and remember what I told you," said Claus, getting on his feet. "There they go! All we have to do, now, is to go in there and get the valises. You know where they sat, don't you?"
Casper glanced toward the front end of the car, and saw Julian and Jack step down and hurry toward the dining-room. Claus waited until most of the passengers got off, and then, with a motion to Casper to follow him, he went boldly forward and climbed the steps. He opened the door, and, when Casper went in, he said,
"Now tell me exactly where they sat, so that I can pick up the valises without exciting anybody's suspicions."
"Do you see that red-faced man sitting on the right-hand side?" whispered Casper. "And do you see those valises in the rack directly in front him? Well, they are the ones you want."
"All right! We will have them out of there in a jiffy."
"I don't like the way that man looks at us," Casper ventured to remark; "perhaps he knows them."
"It don't make any difference to me whether he does or not. If he says anything to us, we will tell him the valises belong to us, and that we have come after them."
Calling a smile to his face, Claus went down the passage-way, looking at the various valises stowed away in the racks. When he arrived opposite the seat where Julian had sat before he left the train, a look of surprise spread over his countenance, and he stepped in and took them down, one after the other.
"These are ours, ain't they?" he asked, turning to Casper.
"Yes—they are the ones."
"I don't see what those boys put them in here for. Now we will take charge of them ourselves."
He passed one valise to Casper, who took it and made his way out of the car, while Claus kept close at his heels.
"Now we want to go somewhere and get out of sight as soon as we can," said Casper, looking around guiltily, and almost expecting a policeman to take him by the collar. "I shall not feel easy until this train goes."
"Well, we don't want to get out of sight just yet," said Claus. "That red-faced man kept his eyes on us, didn't he? Let us see what he will make of it now."
"Why, Claus, you are not going in there?" queried Casper, when his companion led the way toward the waiting-room. "Julian and Jack went in there, and they will be certain to discover us."
"No, they won't. You follow me, and do just as I do."
Casper turned his eyes and looked back at the train. There was the red-faced man, sitting by the car window, closely watching all their movements, and when he saw them enter the waiting-room into which Julian and Jack had gone a few moments before, his suspicions, if he had any, were set at rest, and he settled back in his seat and picked up a newspaper which he had just purchased. Claus kept on to the waiting-room, but he did not stop when he got there. He kept right on through and went out at the other door, and after walking briskly for a few minutes, and turning several corners until he was sure that the depot had been left out of sight, he seated himself on the steps of a deserted house, took off his hat, and wiped his forehead.
"It was not such an awful thing to get those valises, after all," said he. "When that train goes, we will go and get our breakfast."
"But I would like to know what is in those valises first," said Casper. "I tell you, you are fooled. I have felt this valise all over on the outside, and there is nothing in it that feels like a box."
"I don't suppose you could feel anything of that kind in it, because I don't believe the box was put in there," said Claus. "My only hope is that they took the papers out of the box and put them in here; consequently they left the box at home."
"Good enough!" exclaimed Casper, catching up his valise and feeling the outside of it, to see if he could feel anything that seemed like papers that were stowed away on the inside of it; "I never thought of that. Now, how shall we go to work to get the valises open? I haven't a key in my pocket that will fit them."
"I haven't, either; but as soon as we get our breakfast we will go up the road a little distance and cut them open. These gripsacks will never be worth anything to anybody after we get done with them."
Even while they were talking in this way they heard the shriek of the whistle twice, followed by the ringing of the bell, and knew that their train was getting ready to start on again; whereupon Claus got up and said he was as hungry as a wolf, and that he must procure a breakfast somewhere.
"I shall not eat much till I find out what those valises are hiding from us," said Casper. "It would be just dreadful if we should fail, after all the trouble we have been to."
By the time they got back to the depot the train was well under way; but Claus went out and looked after it, to satisfy himself that the coast was clear. Then they placed their valises in charge of the clerk at the desk, enjoyed a good wash, and went in and took their seats at the table. Their meal was a better one than they had had served up to them at St. Louis, especially when they were hard up for money; and, after taking their time in eating it, Claus settled the bill, took his valise, and started up the railroad track.
"Have you a cigar?" he asked, before they had gone a great ways. "That is all right. We will go on until we get into that sagebrush, and then we will stop and look into these things. I will take just a hundred thousand dollars for my find."
"I'll bet you will take less than that," said Casper; for, somehow, he could not get over the idea that the box had been sent by express. "There is nothing in them that you want."
It did not take them more than a quarter of an hour to get into the sagebrush; and, after looking all around to make sure that there was no one in sight, they stepped down from the track and seated themselves on the bank beside it. Claus did not waste any time in trying his keys upon the valise, but stretched out his legs and put his hand into his pocket, and when he pulled it out again he held a knife in it.
"The shortest way is the best," said he, thrusting the blade into the valise he held in his hand. "Come out here, now, and let us see what you have."
His knife made short work of the valise, but nothing in the way of papers could be found. It was Jack's valise that he had destroyed, and all he found in it was a brush and comb, and half a dozen handkerchiefs.
"I just knew how it would be," said Casper, despairingly. "You will find the same things in here."
He had never seen Claus look so angry and disappointed as he was at that moment. With a spiteful kick of one foot he sent the valise out of sight in the sagebrush, and was about to send the other things to keep it company, when he happened to think of something.
"I guess I'll keep the handkerchiefs and brush and comb for the good they may do me," said he. "Where's your valise?"
Casper handed it over, and in a moment more that valise was a wreck, also. They found things in it similar to those found in Jack's gripsack, with the exception of a book which Julian had purchased to read on his journey, the leaves of which were uncut. Casper took possession of the handkerchiefs and the brush and comb, while Claus slowly rolled up the book and sat with his eyes fastened on the ground. He was mad—Casper could easily see that, and he dared not interrupt his train of thought. Claus sat for some moments communing with his own thoughts, then broke into a whistle and got upon his feet.
"To say that I am disappointed, and angry, too, would not half express my feelings," said he, pulling off his hat with one hand and digging his fingers into his head with the other. "I did not suppose they would send those papers by express, for I know it is something that I would not have done. I would have kept them by me all the while, so that I could see that they were safe. Now, the next thing is to determine upon something else."
"Do you intend to make another effort to get the money?" asked Casper, very much surprised. "Your 'three times and out' did not amount to anything—did it?"
"No, I don't suppose it did," said Claus, who was evidently thinking about something else. "I guess you have done about all you can do, and so you had better go back to St. Louis."
This was nothing more than Casper expected. He had his ten dollars stowed away somewhere about his clothes, together with small sums which he had saved from the amount that Claus had paid him, and so he could pay his way back to St. Louis easily enough; but what should he do when he got there? He shuddered when he thought of it. Here was winter coming on, and unless he should obtain work very soon he would have to go out to where his mother lived, which was all of two hundred and fifty miles from there. And what should he say when he got home? He had gone to St. Louis with big boasts of what he intended to do when he got there, and for him to turn up penniless and friendless at his mother's house was rather more than he had bargained for.
"And what will you do?" asked Casper.
"I haven't had time to think the matter over," said Claus, who was rather surprised that his companion took his discharge, or whatever you might call it, so easily, "but I think I shall go on to Denver."
"And I can't be of any use to you there?"
"No, I don't think you can. I may not be back to the city before next spring."
"I wish you would tell me what you are going to do when you get there. You can't get the box; that will be safe in the bank."
"But perhaps I can pass myself off for Mr. Haberstro. I have some of his cards in my pocket."
"But you will only get yourself into trouble if you try that game. There are people out there who know Haberstro."
"Well, that is so," said Claus, looking reflectively at the ground. "I shall have to think up some way to get around that. At any rate, you cannot be of any further use to me, and so you had better start by the next train."
"Well, you had better give me some money before you turn me off in this way," said Casper. "How am I going to get back to the city without money?"
"Where is that ten dollars you got out of the telegraph office when your time was up?" asked Claus, who did not like it whenever the subject of giving some of his hard earnings was brought up before him. "You have not spent all of that, I know."
"Yes, I have. I have just a quarter, and there it is," said Casper, pulling out of his pocket the coin in question.
"I wish to goodness I had never seen you!" said Claus, shoving his hand into the pocket in which he kept his money. Casper heard the jingling of some silver pieces, and thought that perhaps his companion might be tempted to give him a few dollars. That would be better than nothing, and he would have some money left when he reached St. Louis. "If I had never seen you, I would have more dollars left in my pocket than I have now," said Claus, bringing out a handful of small change.
Casper said nothing in reply. He wanted to see how much Claus was going to give him; and, once he had the money in his hand, he could talk to him as he pleased.
"There are five dollars that I will give you, and you need not ask me for any more," said Claus, counting out the money; "for, if you do, you won't get it."
"I don't know whether five dollars will pay my fare to St. Louis or not," said Casper. "Give me six."
"No, sir; that's all I have to spare. It will take you so close to the city that you can easily walk in," said Claus, turning on his heel and starting toward the town they had just left. "You can walk twenty-five miles very easily."
It was right on the point of Casper's tongue to "open out" on Claus, and give him as good as he sent. Wouldn't he have had more dollars in his pocket if he had never met the man who was anxious at all times to play a game of billiards or pool with him, especially on pay-day, when Casper was known to have money in his pocket? But, on thinking the matter over, he decided that he would say nothing about it. Claus was a pretty big man, and there was no knowing what he would do if the boy made him angrier than he was now.
"He is going to be fooled again," said Casper, as he fell in behind Claus, who walked toward the town as if he were in an awful hurry to get there. "What good will it do him to go on to Denver? He can't get the box there, neither can he cheat Julian out of his money. Julian will find any amount of friends there—I never heard of a boy with a hundred thousand dollars in his pocket who could not find somebody to stand by him—and they will tell him what to do. Oh! why did I make so great a mistake! I ought to have started for Denver the moment I got my hands on that box. Well, I got five dollars out of Claus, anyhow."
Casper sauntered along behind Claus, who was walking rapidly, and when he reached the depot he looked all around for his companion, but failed to see him. Claus had gone off somewhere, and Casper was there alone.