"That's it!" cried John, grabbing it before the professor had a chance to play any more tricks. "That's what I want!" "Now you've got it, you'd better get out of my house," said Punjab, trying to assume his dignity which John had sadly ruffled. "Only too glad to," the Indian student said, and, carrying the precious card in his hand he hurried from the place, throwing aside his bandages as he did so. "I'll get even with you boys yet," he heard Marinello Booghoobally, _alias_ Hemp Smith, _alias_ Professor Punjab, _alias_ Ali Baba, call after him. But John was not worried over this and soon was back at the hotel where his companions anxiously waited him. "Any luck?" asked Jack. "The best," replied John, and he told them all that had happened from the time he entered Ali Baba's place until he secured the card, which, he had turned over to Jack as soon as he got in. The police were notified, but the fakir was too quick for them and escaped. "Now we'd better go straight for Denver," said Nat. "We're behind in our schedule now, and maybe my uncle will not wait for us." John and Jack thought this a good scheme, so, having settled their hotel bill, they were soon aboard a train again, and speeding westward. They made good time, in spite of a few delays by slight accidents, and arrived in Denver at night. "It's too late to go to the Capital Bank," said Jack. "Wish we'd have gotten in earlier. But we'll make inquiries about Orion Tevis the first thing in the morning." Long before the bank opened the boys had inquired their way to it from the hotel where they stopped. As soon as the doors were swung, to indicate that business might be transacted, Jack led the way into the marble-tiled corridor of the institution. "Who do you want to see?" asked a uniformed porter. "The president," said Jack boldly, thinking it best to begin at the top, and work down if necessary. "Want to deposit a million dollars I s'pose," the porter said with a sort of sneer. Evidently his breakfast had not agreed with him. "I came here to inquire for the address of Mr. Orion Tevis," replied Jack sharply, and in a loud tone, for he did not like to be made fun of. "If the president is not the proper person to ask will you kindly tell me who is?" "What's that?" asked a gray-haired man, peering out from a private office. "I am seeking the address of Mr. Orion Tevis," repeated Jack. "Step right in here," the elderly man said. "Johnson, you may go down into the basement and finish your work," he added to the porter who hurried away, probably feeling as though he had grown several inches shorter. "Now what is this about Mr. Tevis?" asked the man. "I am Mr. Snell, cashier of the bank." "I want to find Mr. Tevis, in order to ask him if he knows the whereabouts of a certain person in whom I am interested," said Jack. "Are you a private detective?" asked Mr. Snell, with a smile.