"The card on the wall says, Cash in Advance."
"That's it."
"I've got three ounces of dust with me. I'll give you that now and the rest when we reach the gulch. Will that answer?"
"I presume so. You look like an honest young fellow. Who is the sick young man?"
"My chum—one of the best fellows in the world," answered Bob.
Just then another man came in, suffering from a cut on the arm, and the doctor had to attend to him. Bob went off, promising to be on hand at eight o'clock in the morning.
The talk in the next room had ceased and the youth felt certain that the three men had left the building. While he was in the hallway he approached the door and peeped through the key-hole. The room was empty of occupants.
"Who rents that room next to the doctor's office?" he asked of the negro, whom he met again in the lower hallway.
"Mr. Morgan Fitzsimmons," was the answer.
"Is there a man named Ruff in the building?"