When it came time for dinner they entered the dining car. They could not get seats together, and so Tom was compelled to sit opposite to a burly fellow whose appearance did not strike him as altogether favorable. "Bound for Chicago?" asked the man, after passing the time of day. "Yes, sir," answered Tom. "Are you bound there?" "I am going through that city. You belong there, I suppose?" "No, sir, I've never been there before." "Is that so. Going on a pleasure trip, or to try your luck? Or perhaps you are on business?" "Yes, I am on business." "You are rather young to be out on business, it strikes me," went on the burly stranger, after a pause. "Oh, I've been around a little before," said Tom coolly. "Yes, you look like a lad who has seen some thing of the world. Well, I've seen something of the world myself." "Are you a Western man?" asked Tom, who thought it would not hurt to do a little questioning on his own account. "Yes, I was born and brought up in Colorado." The reply interested Tom. "But you have traveled, you say?" "Yes, I've been to San Francisco and to New York, and also up in the mining districts of the Northwest Territory, and in the mines of Mexico. I've been what they call a rolling stone." And the burly man laughed lightly, but the laugh was not a pleasant one. "Then you ought to know a good deal about mining," Tom ventured. "I am interested in the mines of Colorado. In what part of the State were you located?" "Well, I lived in Ouray some time, and also in Silverton, but I went here, there, and everywhere, prospecting and buying up old claims cheap." "I hope you struck it rich." "Oh, I'm fairly well fixed," was the careless answer. "So you are interested in our mines, eh? Got a claim?" "No, sir, but I am going out there to look up a claim--if I can." "Take my advice and leave mining alone unless you have had experience. The chance for a tenderfoot, as we call 'em, getting along has gone by." "I shan't waste much time in looking around." "And don't waste your money either. Nine mines out of ten that are offered for sale are not worth buying at any price. I've been all through the miff and I know." "I suppose you know a great many of the old time miners?" said Tom, after another pause. "Oh, yes, loads of them, Quray Frank, Bill Peters, Denver Phil, and all the rest." "Did you ever meet a man by the name of Jack Wumble?" The burly man started and spilled a little of the coffee he was holding to drink. "Why--er--confound the rocking of the train," he answered. "Why, yes, I met Wumble once or twice, but never had any business with him. Are you going to buy a mine from him?" "No, I am going to try to get him to help locate one that is missing," answered Tom, before he had thought twice. "Indeed! Well, I've heard Jack is a good man at locating paying claims. Do you know him personally?" "I do not." A gleam of satisfaction lit up the burly man's face, but Tom did not notice it.