“Mr. Merriwell!” called the clerk. “Here is a gentleman inquiring for you.”
The man at the desk turned and faced Frank.
“Is that so?” muttered Frank. “It is Macklyn Morgan!”
Morgan, one of the money kings of the great Consolidated Mining Association of America, looked Merriwell over with a glance as cold as ice.
“How do you do, sir?” he said, in a calm, low voice. “It seems that I have found you at last.”
“From your words,” returned Merry, “I should fancy you had been looking for me for some time?”
“I have.”
“Indeed?”
“Yes, I have looked for you in Denver, in Holbrook, and at your Queen Mystery Mine.”
“It appears that I have given you considerable trouble?”