A SCENE AT OMAHA.
Paul had good reason to exult in the success of his mission. He had
certainly done well for his employer, for he had sold out his mining
property at a profit of seven thousand dollars, while as for himself he
had two thousand dollars to show as the recompense of his shrewdness.
Our hero did not immediately leave Custer City, but looked about him,
as instructed by Mr. Bradford. The result was that he purchased a new
mine, paying three thousand dollars, one thousand being on his own
account, the other two-thirds on behalf of his employer. This he left
in charge of his new friend, Jim Scott, and, when matters had been
fully arranged, started on his way home.
At Omaha Paul decided to stop over for twenty-four hours, having a
little business to attend to for Mr. Bradford.
He applied at a hotel for accommodations.
"I am sorry," said the landlord, "that I can't give you a room by
yourself. I am crowded."
Paul hesitated, for he didn't like sharing the room of a total stranger.
"Are the other hotels in the city likely to be full?" he asked.
"More than likely. Still, you can try."
However, Paul didn't care to take the time for searching, when there
was such a slight chance of success.
"Where can you put me?" he asked.
"In No. 37. There is one gentleman there, who seems quiet; I don't
think he will disturb you."
"Are there two beds?"
"Yes."
"Then I suppose I may as well make it do."
Paul was accordingly shown up to No. 37. He found that it was what is
called a double room. That is, there were two beds in it.
"Where is the other gentleman?" he asked.
"He won't be in till late in the evening," was the reply.
"Do you happen to remember his name?" Paul inquired.
"John Davenport."
"Where does he hail from?"
"Kansas City."
"Probably he is all right," thought our hero, "though I don't quite
like the idea of rooming with a complete stranger. Well, I will take
the room."
It was about the middle of the afternoon. Paul deposited his carpet-bag
in the room, but what articles of value he had he left for safe keeping
in the office of the hotel, as prudent travelers generally do, at any
rate when they find themselves paired off with strangers.
Deferring his business to the next day, Paul took a walk about the
streets and made himself familiar with the outward appearance of a city
which has become one of the most important on the transcontinental
route. He admired the new high-school building, built on the site of
the old capitol, with its spire rising nearly two hundred feet above
the street, the elegant private dwellings on the hill, and perhaps
more than all, the huge railroad bridge that spans the Missouri River.
Everywhere he marked signs of prosperity and enterprise, and he felt
that it must be inspiring to live where growth is so rapid.
He used his time well, and went back to the hotel to supper.
About nine o'clock, feeling fatigued with his journey, he decided to go
up stairs to bed, so as to feel quite refreshed the next day.
The room was empty, his roommate, Mr. Davenport, of Kansas City, not
having arrived.
Paul undressed and got into bed. How long he had slept he did not
know, but he woke all at once, and from his bed looked on a sight which
instantly awakened him thoroughly.
A man was exploring his carpet-bag, which for convenience he had
deposited on the table, in search, no doubt, of valuables.
"What are you doing there?" demanded Paul, sitting up in bed.
The man turned suddenly, and revealed to Paul the well known features
of Luke Denton.