AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE
The boys, under the advice of Judge Bennett, had planned to go to
Chicago. From there they would take a train on another road, which
made connections with the line that would land them in Denver. From
Denver they had to change to still another railway to get to
Fillmore, the nearest station to Denville. Nat's uncle had promised
to meet them there a week from the day they started, since he wanted
to allow them plenty of time to get to Colorado, and there were
sometimes delays in connecting with trains.
From Fillmore the lads were to be driven about twenty miles to where
Mr. Kent's ranch was located. He had written to Nat that in case he
was not in Fillmore when the boys arrived they were to put up at a
hotel and wait for him. Also, in case they missed connections and
were late in getting there, he would wait for them.
"We want to try and find where Orion Tevis is located," said Jack,
"and to do this we will have to go to the Capital Bank in Denver.
That may take a little time, as we may have to prove our identity."
"Ought to be easy to do that with the rings you and John have,"
answered Nat, the Indian student having secured his gold circlet from
Dr. Mead, who had been keeping it for him.
"It may be and it may not," John said.
"There are a lot of things mixed up in this affair, and no one can
see how it will turn out. But I don't expect any trouble in getting
Mr. Tevis's address. The hard part will be to find him."
"I'll find him if it's possible," Jack put in. "I want to end my
father's wanderings and bring him back with me."
"And I'll help all I can, and I know my uncle will, too," said Nat,
with ready sympathy.
The boys had arranged themselves comfortably in the train, which, by
this time, had speeded several miles from Denton. The car was not
well filled as it was early and no large cities had been reached. As
station after station was passed, however, passengers began to take
the seats until the cars were comfortably filled.
The boys had taken passage in a through sleeper to Chicago, and got
their meals in the dining car ahead. They had supper in Scranton,
where the train waited about half an hour to connect with another. As
the boys came back to their seats in the sleeper, which had not yet
been made up, they saw several new passengers.
One was a tall, rather rough looking man, who seemed to have suddenly
acquired wealth. His clothes were good but did not fit him well, and
he seemed ill at ease in them. There was a big diamond in his shirt
front, and he had a heavy gold chain across his vest.
"Guess I'm entitled to the best that's goin'," he said in a loud tone
as he sat in one seat and put his big feet up in the one opposite.
"I've paid for this whole section an' I'm going to use it. I ain't
worked hard all my life for nothing. Just sold my share in a coal
mine," he said to the boys, whose seats were near his. "Now I'm going
to enjoy myself. Going to the 'Windy City'! that's what I am. Got
friends in Chicago that'll be glad to see me an' my pile," and he
pulled out a big role of bills. "My name's Josh Post, an I'm set in
my ways," he added.
The boys did not make any answer, but, at the sound of the big man's
voice a passenger in the seat ahead of him turned and looked to see
who was speaking. As he did so the former mine owner happened to be
displaying his money, and the eyes of the other passenger gleamed in
a dangerous sort of way.
As he turned around to get a glimpse of the miner, Jack got a look at
the face of the passenger who had shown such curiosity. The boy
started. "Where have I seen him before?" he thought to himself. "I
can't seem to place him." Then he leaned over and whispered to Nat.
"Make an excuse to go to the end of the car, and on your way back
take a look at the man in the first seat."
"All right," said Nat, who did not ask the reason. A little later he
sauntered to the water cooler. He could hardly repress a start as he
passed the man Jack had mentioned.
"Know him?" asked Jack, when his chum had regained his seat.
"Sure, in spite of his disguise, his new way of wearing his hair, and
the fact that he has shaved off his moustache."
"Marinello Booghoobally?" asked Jack, in low tones.
"Otherwise known as Hemp Smith," whispered Jack. "I wonder what he's
up to now."
"I shouldn't be surprised if he would like to annex the roll of one
Mr. Josh Post," observed Nat. "We'd better keep our eyes pealed. Put
John next to the game."
Thereupon the Indian student was told the story of the man who had
posed as an Oriental mystic and a professor of whatever he thought he
could delude people into believing, as it suited his fancy, and
netted him cash.
"We certainly got the best of him in the haunted house affair," said
Jack. "Guess the professor won't tackle another job like that in
hurry," and he silently laughed as he thought of the trick (told of
in the first volume) the students played on the fakir when a
phonograph was used to produce ghostly noises.
"Yes, sir, I'm out for a good time," said Mr. Post, as if some one
had doubted his word. "Where you boys going?"
"Out west," replied Jack, thinking it would do no harm to reply
civilly to Mr. Post.
"Excuse me for coming into this conversation," spoke Marinello
Booghoobally, otherwise Hemp Smith. "I'm going out west myself, and
if I can do anything to help you boys or you, Mr. Post, I'll be only
too glad to do so."
"Help yourself to our money and his too, I guess," murmured Jack.
"Well now, that's kind of you, stranger," said Mr. Post, who seemed
ready to accept any one as a friend. "What might your name be?"
"It might be almost anything I guess," muttered Nat. "Let's hear what
he says. I wonder how he got here, anyhow."
"I'm Professor Punjab," replied Hemp Smith. "As you can understand by
my name I am from East India, but I have been here so long I have
acquired some of the habits."
"Most of the bad ones," said Jack, under his breath.
"What do you work at?" asked Mr. Post.
"Work? I do not work," replied the fakir. "I am what you might call a
mind reader, a mystic, a foreteller of future events."
"Ain't no mesmerizer, are you?" asked Mr. Post.
"Yes, I can do that also," replied Professor Punjab. "Shall I give
you a sample?"
"I'd rather have you give me a sample of your fortune telling," said
the miner. "What's going to happen now?"
Professor Punjab seemed to go into a deep thought trance. Then he
gave a sudden start.
"The train is going to stop quickly because there is an obstruction
on the track!" he exclaimed.
An instant later, to the surprise of the boys, no less than Mr. Post,
there was a quick application of the air brakes, so much so that the
passengers were nearly thrown from their seats. Then with a grinding
and shrieking the train came to a stop.
"What did I tell you?" inquired Professor Punjab.
"Well I'll be horn-swoggled!" exclaimed Mr. Post.
"What's the matter?" asked several travelers.
The boys had hurried to the front of the car. They were met by a
brakeman.
"Don't be alarmed," he said. "There is no danger."
"What was the trouble?" asked Jack.
"There was some obstruction on the track, a couple of ties, I
believe, that fell from a passing flat car," the brakeman explained.
"The engineer saw it and stopped just in time."
Professor Punjab pulled a book from his pocket and began to read, as
if prophesying that trains would suddenly stop was the most natural
thing in the world.