It was the dapper young Chicagoian, Guy Dudley, as large as life. CHAPTER VII. THE REASON WHY VANCE THORNTON WAS TICKLED ALMOST TO DEATH. “What the dickens is he doing in Elevatorville?” ejaculated Vance in great astonishment. “I thought he was attending to business for his father in Kansas City.” Just then a man in a sack-coat and wearing a smart-looking fedora hat came to the door and entered into conversation with Dudley. Presently the dapper young man jumped off his perch, and the two began to walk toward the spot where Vance stood regarding them with some curiosity. “It will never do for him to see me here,” muttered the boy, backing out of view and then walking rapidly down a path that led to that end of the elevator which faced the water. “He’d ask no end of embarrassing questions which I never could answer.” When Vance reached the corner of the elevator building he found that further progress in that direction was blocked by the water, unless he chose to crawl over the damp sand under the ground floor of the edifice, which was raised several feet on spiles. So he concluded to wait where he was until the coast was clear again. He looked back to see if Dudley and his companion were continuing on up the street, but to his dismay he saw they also had turned into the path leading down to the river end of the building. There was nothing now but to get out of sight under the corner of the elevator and wait for them to retire. “How long do you expect to stay in this burg, Mr. Dudley?” the man in the fedora hat was saying as the pair came within earshot of Vance’s post of concealment. “Give it up,” returned the dapper young man, with a yawn. “It’s precious dull here, all right; but I’ve got to stick here until I find out whether that Thornton chap”--at these words Vance pricked up his ears and was instantly on the alert--“is coming down here on a reconnoitering expedition for his boss, old man Whitemore, or not. Those are my orders, and I got them right from the shoulder, too.” “What makes you think he is coming here?” asked the elevator man curiously. “We have our reasons,” replied Dudley significantly, “and we’re not taking any chances. I’m watching every train that comes in.” “I didn’t see you at the depot last night.” “I don’t have to go to the depot. He’ll go to the hotel as sure as guns, or to the Stag House.” “Or to the Parker House,” suggested the man in the fedora. “Scarcely there. He’s got plenty of money and will want the best that is to be had. However, I don’t care where he goes; the moment he registers at any of these places I shall be informed.” “Well?” said the other interrogatively. “Then I’ll point him out to you, and it will be up to you to see that he’s blocked at every point.” “As every one of our men down here has been fixed, I don’t think he’ll find out a heap,” remarked the elevator official in a tone of conviction.