“That is at the rate of three thousand dollars a year!”
“Yes, but you are earning it.”
“You know I am only a boy.”
“That doesn’t make any difference as long as you understand your business.”
“I am very grateful to you, Mr. Pettigrew. My, I can save two hundred dollars a month.”
“Do so, and I will find you a paying investment for the money.”
“What would Jasper say to my luck?” thought Rodney.
Three months passed without any incident worth recording. One afternoon a tall man wearing a high hat and a Prince Albert coat with a paste diamond of large size in his shirt bosom entered the public room of the Miners’ Rest and walking up to the bar prepared to register his name. As he stood with his pen in his hand Rodney recognized him not without amazement.
It was Louis Wheeler—the railroad thief, whom he had last seen in New York.
As for Wheeler he had not taken any notice of the young clerk, not suspecting that it was an old acquaintance who was familiar with his real character.