"My father's money was in new bills," he whispered into his companion's ear. Rasco nodded, but quickly motioned for silence.
"I reckon this is drinks on me," said Powell, arising. "Come down to the bar before you go back to the cavalry camp."
"I'm in a hurry, Powell, but I'll take one glass," concluded Louis Vorlange, and the two men hurried from the reading-room.
"He is the man—I feel certain of it!" burst from Dick's lips, when he felt safe to speak. "Rasco, there is some mystery here. My father——" He stopped short and bit his lip.
"I know wot's in yer mind, Dick. I've heard yer father go on in his sleep, and war talkin' ter Pawnee Brown about it. An' Pawnee knows this air Vorlange. The two air enemies from school days. Pawnee said Vorlange wasn't squar nohow!"
"He is evidently in the employ of the government."
"Yes; a land-office spy, now workin' ag'in the boomers fer the cavalry as intends ter keep us out of Oklahoma."
"It will be hard to bring such a man to justice, without some direct evidence against him, Rasco."
"Don't yer try ter do it—yet, lad. Take my advice an' watch him. An' afore yer come down on him yer hed better question yer father about Vorlange."
At this Dick winced.