"I've been thinking that I've seen you before," said Sam bluntly. "But for the life of me I can't place you." "Perhaps we've met somewhere in the East--New York, for instance. Have any of you been in Chicago before?" "No." "It's a great city and there are many sights worth seeing. If you wished I wouldn't mind showing you around a bit this afternoon or tomorrow." "Thanks, but we won't have time," said Dick shortly. This off-handed invitation made him more suspicious than ever. The talking continued until at last Henry Bradner stopped the car. "Here we are," he said. "The Palace of the West is one block down yonder side street." "The Palace of the West?" repeated Tom. "I thought it was called the Western Palace." "Well, it's all the same," laughed the man. But it was not the same by any means. While the Western Palace was a first-class hotel in every respect, the Palace of the West was a weak imitation, run by a man who had once been a notorious San Francisco blackleg. The hotel was soon reached and Bradner led the way into the office, which was filled with rather rough-looking sports, all smoking and talking loudly. "I know the clerk," said Bradner. "I'll ask him about your friend." And before Dick could stop him he had pushed his way to the desk and was talking in a low tone to the clerk. Dick tried to catch what was said, but was unable to do so. "You are in luck," said Bradner, on coming back. "The clerk says Jack Wumble has gone off for the day, but said he would be back by to-night sure." "I'm glad of that," said Tom, and he and his brothers felt much relieved. "The clerk cautioned me to keep quiet about Wumble," went on Bradner confidentially. "It seems Wumble and another man had a row over a game of cards, and Wumble wants the other man to clear out before he shows up again. The other man is booked for Denver on the afternoon train." As this statement about cards fitted in with what Mr. Rover had said concerning Jack Wumble, the boys swallowed it without hesitation, and they were inclined to believe that Henry Bradner was all right, after all. "Will you register here?" went on the man. "No, I don't like the looks of the place," answered Dick promptly. "We are not of the drinking kind," he added. The burly man looked dark and disappointed. "It's a good hotel, when once you get used to it," he said. But Dick shook his head and said he would go elsewhere, and motioning to Tom and Sam he led the way to the sidewalk once more. Henry Bradner followed them. "If I see Wumble shall I get him to wait for you?" he said. "If you wish. We will be around to-night and also to-morrow morning to see him." "All right." The boys walked off and around the corner into the street where the cars were running. "I don't like him at all," exclaimed Dick. "I believe he is tip to some game." "Oh, you may be too suspicious," declared Sam. "What game can he be up to? He was kind enough to help us hunt up this Jack Wumble."