Leadville's angered delegate gazed after him a moment, with unutterable contempt—then turned to Fritz:
"Poor fool. He's no sand, or he'd not cut and run, after calling a man a liar. Up in Leadville things are supremely different, but here alas! is a lack of back-bone. I say, young fellow, have you ever cherished dreams of becoming rich?—a man of millions, as it were?"
"Vel, I don'd know but I haff some off dose anxiety to get rich, vonce in a vile," Fritz admitted.
"Well, sir, I can tell you just how you can do it the easiest, if you will stroll upon the beach with me."
Accordingly Fritz arose, and sauntered down to the beach with this eccentric Leadvillian, whoever he might prove to be.
"Now, I suppose you'd like to know what I'm mad at," the old gent began, pushing his gold-headed cane into the sand, as they strolled along. "Well, before I tell you, I want to know who you are, and what your business is?"
"My name vos Fritz Snyder, und I vas vot you might call a detective—or, dot is, I vas trying my luck at der pizness."
"Indeed? Then perhaps it is well I have met you, for I have a case, and if you can win that case, you can also win five thousand dollars. How does that strike you?"
"It hits me right vere I liff, ven I ish at home," Fritz grinned. "Yoost you give me der p'ints, und I'm your bologna, you can bet a half-dollar on dot five t'ousand-dollar job. Vot's der lay—suicides, murder, sdole somedings, or run avay mit anodder vife's veller?"
"Neither. A girl has run away from her home, and is wanted—five thousand dollars' worth. She is my daughter, and is a somnambulist, and consequently of unsound mind, at times. She frequently goes into a trance, and remains thus for weeks at a time, eating and drinking naturally enough, but knowing nothing what she has been doing, when she awakens—though to outward appearance, she is awake, when in this trance, but not in her right mind. I have consulted eminent physicians, but they pronounce her case incurable, and say she will some day die in one of these trances."