They waited around for the best part of an hour, but Henry Bradner failed to return, and at last they gave up looking for him, and the boys went back to where they had hired a room for the night, promising to rejoin Jack Wumble early in the morning, when the whole party would take a train for Denver, where Wumble wished to transact a little business before starting out for Larkspur Creek.
The boys had not slept very well on the train, so they were thoroughly tired out. They were on the point of retiring when a bell-boy came up stating that their friend wished to see Dick for a few minutes.
"Wumble must have forgotten something," said Dick. "I'll see what it is," and he took the elevator to the ground floor.
To his surprise it was not Wumble who wished to see him, but Henry
Bradner.
"What, you!" cried the youth. "I thought you had skipped out."
"Skipped out?" queried the burly man in pretended surprise. "Why should I skip out?"
"Don't you know that we have found you out?"
"Found me out? You are talking in riddles, young man." And the stranger drew himself up proudly.
"We have found Mr. Jack Wumble, and he tells us that he never stopped at the Palace of the West in his life."
"Mr. Jack Wimple, you mean. Why, he is certainly at the hotel—or was."