It was a typical Western town, rather larger than an ordinary one, for it was the centre for a prosperous mining section. Across from the station were two hotels, one called the Imperial Inn and the other the Royal Hotel. "Doesn't seem to be much choice," observed Frank Bender. "Neither one looks as if royalty was in the habit of stopping at it." "We'll go to the Royal," decided Dick. "The lawyer, whom dad wrote to about the mine, stops there, and I want to see him." Accordingly the five boys walked across the street and entered the lobby of the hotel. It was even less pretentious on the inside than viewed from without, but it looked clean. Dick led the way up to the desk, to engage rooms for himself and friends. "Glad t' see you, strangers," greeted the man behind the desk with easy familiarity. "What might yo' uns be, if I might make so bold as to ask? Travelin' show or capitalists lookin' fer a good payin' mine?" "We're studying mining conditions," replied Dick. "Traveling for information." "Ah, I see," interrupted the hotel proprietor, who also acted as clerk. "We've had some of you college boys out here before. Welcome to Yazoo City," and Dick and his companions were glad that the man had put his own interpretation on their object in coming West. He swung the book around to them and Dick signed first. The pen was poor and the ink worse, so it was no wonder that his name, when he had scratched it down, looked like anything but Dick Hamilton. Nor did the others do any better. They were shown to their rooms, and, as it was late afternoon, they decided to defer beginning their investigations until the next day. The supper was good but plain, though the boys were more interested in watching the men about them, and hearing them talk, than they were in eating, hungry as they were. They slept soundly, though Dick was awakened once or twice by revolver shots and loud yelling. He thought someone had been hurt, but on inquiring from a porter, passing through the hall, learned that he need have no cause for alarm. "Land love yo', son!" said the porter, a burly Westerner. "Them's only th' boys gittin' rid of some of their animal spirits. Don't worry none. They seldom shoots this way, an' if they does they aims high, so they only busts the top window lights. Yo' ain't got nothin' t' be askeered of." But though Dick was not exactly easy in his mind his rest was not disturbed by any bullets coming through his window, though there was considerable shooting all night. "I think we'll take a trip out to the mines right after breakfast," decided Dick, when the boys had gathered in his room after dressing. "I'll hire a big carriage and we can all go. I inquired about them, and I learned that the Dolphin and Hop Toad mines are close together, a few miles outside of town." "I think I'll stay around here," decided Tim. "Why?" asked Dick.