"The boy suspects me," thought Kirby. "It is time I got rid of him."
"We will discuss this matter hereafter," he said quietly. "We shall have to come to an understanding. Stay here till I come out."
He went into the pawnbroker's, and in less than five minutes returned with a roll of bills.
"It appears that I have to do my own work, though you are in my employ," he said with a sneer.
Dean didn't reply. He began to suspect that he would not long retain the place which he at present filled. He resolved to look about him, and if he saw anywhere a chance to get into the employ of some one else to take advantage of it. In a money way he might not do so well, but he did not wish to remain connected any longer than he could help with a man of Mr. Kirby's character.
At the Commercial Hotel, Dean and his employer occupied the same room. They remained in the Lake City for a week.
Dean's labors were very light, being confined to the writing of four letters, one of which is subjoined as a specimen. It was addressed to a certain John Carver, of San Francisco. It ran thus:
Dear Sir:
You may sell out the two hundred shares of mining stock which you hold of mine as soon as a satisfactory price can be obtained. I think I ought to get twenty dollars per share, but will accept eighteen if you think it best. The amount you can deposit to my credit in the Bank of Nevada.
Yours truly,
Peter Kirby.