When they separated, it was with another shake of the hand, and a strongly expressed hope on the part of the stranger that they might meet again the next day. ‘Either the critter is a ghost,’ thought Ben—‘and in that case there are ghosts—or I am going crazy; or he is Rube Steele; and I know that is impossible. I won’t go to this hotel any more; and soon as we get married, Ruth and I will live out of the city, and that is a comfort.’
Fortified by this reflection, he was able to bear up somewhat better on this day, and to accept Mr Showle’s invitation with a calmer mind. He arrived early at the merchant’s house. Ruth came in soon afterwards, and he was pleased to see that she, too, looked more cheerful. Ruth had relieved her mind, as she confessed to Ben, by telling him her trouble; and now he knew it, she felt that the worst was over. It was to avoid her half-brother, she owned, that she had wished Ben to live so far from town, and as he had now really arrived, he was glad they had agreed upon this precaution.
They were conversing cheerfully enough, when a knock was heard at the outer door, and Mr Showle, rising, exclaimed: ‘There is Morede! I know his knock. Indeed, he takes care we shall hear him.—I am sure you will like him, Creelock, and he is very anxious to see you.—Ah! Mr Morede! you are punctual, then! Come in, and let me introduce you to our friend Creelock.’ Saying this, he shook hands with the new arrival, and led him to where Ben was standing.
‘I think,’ said Mr Morede, as he took Ben’s hand with a smile, ‘I am not entirely a stranger to Mr Creelock. I have had the pleasure of dining with him more than once at the Ocean House.’
Yes, he had; of course he had. Of course he was not a stranger to Ben—far from it, and Ben knew it well; for here was his mysterious companion at dinner, the new partner in Showle and Bynnes, and Ruth’s half-brother, all turning out to be not only one and the same person, but were also each and every one Rube Steele, his treacherous partner, whom he had left for dead in Colorado! And why did he not recognise Ben, as Ben had recognised him? Of all the strange features in this bewildering matter, this was the strangest.
Ben shook hands, as an automaton might have done, and spoke as though in a trance; the odd tone and character of his replies, and his fixed stare, evidently attracting the notice of Ruth and Mr Showle.
‘Come, Creelock!’ cried the latter presently; ‘you are not yourself to-night. Where are your mining stories and your prairie adventures? I have been praising you all the time to our friend Morede here, as a sort of live volume of entertainment on these matters, and you are not saying a word about them.’
‘Mr Showle is entirely right; he is so,’ said Morede; ‘and I reckon I shall be quite pleased to sit around and hear somethin’ about the western mines. I always do like to hear tell of them.’
‘Do you?’ exclaimed Ben, rousing himself in a species of desperation, and resolving to bring this horrible torture to a finish. ‘Shall I tell you an adventure of my own?’
‘Just so,’ returned Morede, with a pleased smile. ‘I should like it above all things.’