"What do you want to know for?" asked the boy, curiously.
"He is my brother and I want to find him, just as quickly as I can."
"Oh! Well, he wanted to catch a train. He just got it, too."
"What train?"
"The Western Express. He wouldn't have got it only it was about ten minutes late. He got aboard just as she started out from the depot."
Sam's heart sank at this news. Tom on the Western Express! For what place had he been bound?
"Did he say where he was going?" put in Songbird.
"To Chicago, I think. He talked to himself a good deal. Said something about Chicago and St. Paul and Seattle. I asked him if he was on business and he said he was going to pick up nuggets of gold. I guess he was poking fun at me," went on the boy, sheepishly. "But he paid me two dollars for driving him over," he added, with satisfaction.
"Did he have much money?" asked Sam. "Tell me all you know. I might as well tell tell you, that was my brother, and he is sick in his head, so that he doesn't know just what he is doing."
"Say, I thought he was queer—he had such a look out of his eyes, and talked so much to himself. He only had about ten dollars in bills. But he said he had some gold in his pocket, in a box. He didn't show it, though. He said he was on Bill Stiger's trail."