I told the clerk that I was going out for a walk, and to have my room ready with all the necessaries for an extended stay at the hotel, when, late in the afternoon of the day I arrived at Steubenville, I went in quest of my treasure hidden in the railroad stone wall. I walked much faster and easier than when I came up the track a few days before, a hunted man. As I expected, I found the cash and bonds where I had left them, but I must admit being a little irritated on discovering that rats had taken a liking to some of the greenbacks and had eaten holes in them. It happened that the bills were of small denominations, consequently the loss was not so great as it would have been had the pesky things attacked the other side of the package. I went back to the hotel with a snug little fortune in my inside pocket, and without any fear of detection. I passed the barber shop where I encountered that sympathetic artist of the comb and brush, but not needing a shampoo, and for obvious reasons not wishing to renew our acquaintance, carefully avoided a too close scrutiny from that direction. By midnight I had my satchel repacked, the treasure hidden at the bottom, and, leaving a call at the desk for the first train in the morning, with the regret that I had been suddenly summoned away, turned in for a sound sleep. In a trifle more than twenty-four hours I found myself in the metropolis once more, bestirring myself on behalf of my associates in limbo. I knew of no crook to help me but Billy Matthews, my associations with the class taking in but eight men, so I appealed to him for a letter to another friend of Mark Shinburn’s, who proved to be Johnny Ryan of Buffalo. Before starting west on my mission, I gave Matthews six one-thousand-dollar five-twenty government bonds to market for me.