While he was in the dining-room a smart, dapper-looking young man entered the hotel rotunda and walked briskly up to the office counter. Taking possession of the registry book, he glanced rapidly over the day’s arrivals. His nervous finger-tips paused for an instant at Vance Thornton’s name, which, in clear handwriting, stood almost at the top of the first page. The young man noted the number of the room to which the boy had been assigned, and then glanced sharply at the numbered pigeon-holes where the room keys were deposited. “He’s here, all right,” he muttered, as he turned away with a singular smile, “and is not in his room. He reached here early this morning, as his name is right under the date. He ought to be an easy proposition for Sadie to work. I must have those corn options and whatever warehouse receipts he has secured. Old Whitemore was pretty slick to send this young chap instead of Vyce, whom we depended on. But the old fox is up against a crowd as slick as himself this time, and he’s going to be squeezed good and hard.” Thus speaking to himself, the dapper young man pulled a cigar from his pocket, bit off the end, and lit it. Then he walked over and seated himself in a chair that commanded a view of the office. CHAPTER IV. MR. GUY DUDLEY. The dapper young man had almost finished his cigar when Vance came into the rotunda from the dining-room. The stranger recognized the boy at once, which was not at all surprising, since he had met Vance probably fifty times in Chicago in the course of business. “Why, hello, Thornton!” he exclaimed, walking briskly up to the lad and extending his hand in a cordial manner; “this is a surprise. What brings you out west, eh?” “Mr. Dudley!” ejaculated Vance, somewhat taken back by the encounter. The circumstance annoyed him greatly. “Pshaw!” said the dapper gentleman, whose age might have been twenty-three. “Why the handle? I’m Guy to my friends, don’t you know! Aren’t you going to shake?” Common politeness compelled Vance to accept the young man’s hand, though it was with some reluctance. “You’re about the last chap I’d have thought of meeting out here in Kansas, ‘pon my word,” continued Dudley, volubly. “But I’m deuced glad to see you, all the same.” The reverse was the case with Vance, though of course he did not so express himself. He was inclined to regard the meeting as unfortunate. “I had no idea of seeing you here, either,” said Vance, with no great enthusiasm. “I s’pose not,” said Dudley, showing his fine set of teeth with a sort of feline smile. “It’s always the unexpected what happens, don’t you know. Have a smoke?” and he offered Vance a cigar. “Thank you, I don’t smoke.” “Come over to the Criterion, then, and I’ll blow you off,” and Dudley grabbed him by the arm in a friendly way. “You’ll have to excuse me. I do not drink,” replied Vance firmly.