"I did think of going to Elmira to-night, but I think on the whole I will stay at the hotel here till to-morrow morning." "That will give me time to find out," said Clarence. "All right! You had better not ask your father, for he is so prejudiced I don't think he would tell you." "That's so. He will be going out this evening, and then I will search in his desk. I saw a letter there once in which the boy's name was mentioned. But I say, if you've got money why don't you buy some new clothes? You look awfully shabby." "Your suggestion is a good one," said Bolton, smiling. "Come to look at myself I _do_ appear shabby. But then I'm no dude. I dare say when you rode into me this morning you took me for a tramp." "Well, you _did_ look like one." "That's so. I can't blame you." "Shall I find you at the hotel this evening?" "Yes." "Then I'll see what I can do." About seven o'clock Squire Ray went out to attend to a business meeting, and Clarence was left in possession of the study. He locked the door and began to ransack his father's desk. At length he succeeded in his quest. Benjamin Bolton was sitting in the public room of the hotel an hour later smoking a cigar, and from time to time looking towards the door. Presently Clarence entered, and went up to him. "Have you got it?" asked Bolton, eagerly. "Yes," nodded Clarence. He took a piece of paper from his vest pocket and handed it to Bolton. It read thus: _"Ernest Ray, Oak Forks, Iowa."_ "How did you get it?" asked Bolton. "I found a letter in pa's desk from an old man named Peter Brant, asking pa for some money for the boy, who was living with him." "When was that letter written?" "About two years ago." "Thank you. This gives me a clue. Come out of doors and I will give you what I promised. It isn't best that any one should think we had dealings together." Five minutes later Clarence started for home, happy in the possession of a five-dollar bill. "I never paid any money more cheerfully in my life," mused Bolton. "Now I must find the boy!" CHAPTER XXVII. THE TOWN OF OREVILLE. When Ernest and Luke Robbins started for California they had no very definite plans as to the future. But they found among their fellow-passengers a man who was just returning from the East, where he had been to visit his family. He was a practical and successful miner, and was by no means reluctant to speak of his success. "When I landed in Frisco," he said, "two years ago, I had just forty dollars left after paying the expenses of my trip. I couldn't find anything to do in the city, so I set out for the mines." "Where did you go?" asked Luke, becoming interested. "To Oreville. At least, that's what they call it now. Then it didn't have a name." "I hope you prospered," said Ernest.