The rooms to which they had been assigned were on the third floor of the hotel. One was amply large for all of the boys, and the other, while much smaller, had good ventilation and Dick Rover said it would suit him very well.
"The whole outfit is better than I was afraid it might be," he announced. "Some of these boom towns have wretched quarters for newcomers. In fact, I've read in the newspapers that in many places the newcomers had to roll themselves in blankets and sleep out in the fields."
"I was reading about one place where they set up cots on the floor of a general store at night and sold the right to sleep on a cot until seven o'clock in the morning for one dollar," said Randy.
There was no running water, but each room was supplied with a bowl and pitcher, and after the extra cots were placed in the larger apartment an extra bucket of water was also brought up by a maid.
Although they did not know it, the Rovers had no sooner disappeared upstairs than two of the men sitting on the veranda of the hotel came into the office and looked over the register.
"Five Rovers, and all from New York City," muttered one of the men, and gazed knowingly at his companion.
"Four of them were nothing but kids," returned the other. "It's only the man who counts, and his name seems to be Richard Rover."
"Do you think he is the same Rover?"
"I shouldn't wonder, Tate. That name isn't a common one. However, we had better make sure before we make another move."
Andy and Fred were the first to get through washing up, and then they came downstairs to take a look around before going into the dining-room with the others for supper. They came out on the hotel porch, and were surveying the scene before them when the two men who had inspected the hotel register lounged up to them.