"Just see what we would have got we had taken a sleeping-coach," whispered Julian. "No one can come near you except those who purchased tickets at the depot."
"We'll come to that after a while," said Jack. "Wait until we get our money. Just now it seems as though we shall have to be constantly on the watch."
The negro was gone a long time, but our friends found themselves busy in taking a note of all their surroundings. There must have been a good deal of money spent upon that sleeping-car. There did not seem to be a cheap thing about it. One or two passengers, who had slept late and were just getting up, came in, and yawned, and stretched, and prepared to go through their ablutions. They merely glanced at the two boys, and went on with their work. They did not care for the eating-stations that were scattered along the route; when they were hungry, they could go into the dining-coach and get all they wanted.
"I tell you, it is worth while to know where your money is coming from when you travel," thought Julian; "one feels so much safer."
By the time he had reached this conclusion the negro appeared.
"Dar ain't a man on dis train that looks like the one you spoke of," said he. "Dey's all Americans; the last man-jack of them."
"Thank you," said Jack. "Our man has got off at the station. I hope he will get rich on what he found in those valises."
The two friends went back to their own car, and to the inquiry of the passenger who sat behind them replied that the man had left the train as soon as he got the valises. Then they settled down and prepared to enjoy their journey; but it must be confessed that Claus came into their minds very frequently. If he was the one who took their valises, they were certain that they had not seen the last of him yet.
"And to think that that fellow watched us all the while we were in St. Louis," said Jack, leaning over and whispering the words to Julian. "He may watch us after we get in Denver. Who knows?"
But Claus, if that was the man, did not come near them any more during their journey. They grew weary, of course, and Julian, having no book to read, slept most of the way. Their night was passed in much the same way that the first one was, and about two o'clock in the morning they arrived at Denver. The appearance of the city, wrapped though it was in slumber, surprised them. There were as many people running about in the depot as there were in St. Louis, and all appeared to have work to do. The man to whom they had given their check was there to show them the way to their omnibus, and Julian, while he was on the way to it, looked all around for Indians, but did not see any. The hotel was as large as those they had left in St. Louis, and almost before they knew it they were in their room with two beds in it, the porter had carried up their trunk, had bid them good-night, and they were alone.