"Yes, he was. He threw a cigarette stub away while he was trying on the shoes, and then lit another cigarette when he was going out. I thought at the time that he was probably smoking more than was good for him." "I don't smoke at all, and never have done so," said Dave. He turned to his chum. "I think the fact that the fellow who got the shoes was smoking is additional proof that it was Porton." "I haven't the slightest idea that it was anybody else," answered the senator's son. Mr. Wecks promised to keep on the lookout for Ward Porton, in case that individual showed himself again, and then Dave and Roger left. "I'm going into all the stores where I do business and tell the folks to be on the watch for Ward Porton," said our hero. "A good idea, Dave. But see here! How are they going to tell him from you?" and the senator's son chuckled. "You may come along some day and they may hold you, thinking you are Porton." "I thought of that, Roger, and I'll leave each of them my signature on a card. I know that Ward Porton doesn't write as I do." This idea was followed out, the boys spending the best part of an hour in going around Coburntown. Then they drove back to Crumville, and there Dave visited some other establishments with which he was in the habit of doing business. All the storekeepers were much interested in what he had to tell, and all readily agreed to have Ward Porton detained if he should show himself. At each place Dave left his signature, so that there might be no further mistake regarding his identity. After that several days passed quietly. Both Dave and Roger were applying themselves to their studies, and as a consequence saw little of Ben except in the evenings, when all the young folks would get together for more or less of a good time. "Any more news about that fortune in Chicago?" asked Dave, one evening of the Basswood lad. "Not very much," answered Ben. "Father telegraphed that he was hunting for some things that belonged to Mr. Enos. He said that as soon as he found them he would tell us all about it." "That certainly is a strange state of affairs." "Strange? I should say it was!" cried the other. "Mother and I are just dying to know what it all means. One thing is certain--Mr. Enos did not leave his fortune in stocks or bonds or real estate, or anything like that." On the following day came additional trouble for Dave in the shape of a communication from a hotel-keeper in Coburntown. He stated that he had heard through Asa Dickley that Dave was having trouble with a party who was impersonating him, and added that a person calling himself Dave Porter was owing him a bill of fifteen dollars for five days' board. "Isn't this the limit?" cried Dave, as he showed the letter to his father and his Uncle Dunston. "No use in talking, Dave, we'll have to get after that rascal," announced the father. "If we don't, there is no telling how far he'll carry this thing. I think I'll put the authorities on his track."