The boys reached their hotel in the gray dawn of the early morning. They were worn out and tired from their long tramp and the excitement of the night. As they entered the lobby, where a sleepy clerk was on duty behind the desk, the latter called to them: "I say, is one of you named Dick Hamilton?" "I am," replied the millionaire's son. "Well, I've got a message for you from a lad named Simon Scardale." "Simon Scardale?" repeated Dick. "Yes. He was badly hurt last night by a fall from a horse he was riding. He's over at the other hotel, and he sent word that he wanted to see Dick Hamilton as soon as he came in. I looked over the register, but I couldn't see anyone by that name, and I thought he'd made a mistake." Dick recalled his scrawling signature on the book, and did not wonder that the clerk could not make it out. Telling Tim and Frank to go upstairs and notify Bricktop and Walter of their safe arrival, Dick started for the Imperial Inn. He found the night clerk on duty, and, telling his object, was shown upstairs by a sleepy bell-boy. As he entered the room he saw Simon in bed. The youth's face was pale, and his head was covered with bandages. Two doctors were within call. "Is that you, Dick Hamilton?" he asked in a weak voice. "Yes. What do you want, Simon?" inquired Dick, softly, for the sight of Simon's sufferings banished all resentment. "I'm afraid I'm badly hurt," went on Simon, "and I want to tell you something before--before I go away from here. Come closer." "Now don't excite yourself," advised one of the doctors. "I won't, but I must tell Dick," went on Simon. "I'm sorry I put up that game to steal Grit," he said, almost in a whisper. "But I needed money very much and I didn't see any other way to get it. Guy didn't have anything to do with it." "I know," said Dick, softly. "I played another mean trick on you," went on the injured youth. "I've been spying on you for Vanderhoof. After I got Grit and you saw me that day at the hotel, I was afraid. I knew Vanderhoof, or Colonel Dendon, as he sometimes calls himself, and I went to him. He said he could give me a job out West and he sent me here. Then, I guess it must have been the day you started, he telegraphed me to be on the lookout for you, and to inform Forty-niner Smith when you arrived. I did." "Were you in the game to help work off a worthless mine on me?" asked Dick, a little resentfully. "No, no," replied Simon, earnestly. "I only learned of that by accident. When I found out the mines were no good I was going to have nothing more to do with any of the gang. But Smith told me your father had once got the best of Vanderhoof in a business deal and that this was the only way they could get their money back--to sell him a worthless mine. They said it was done every day and--and I believed them. I only kept them informed of your movements so they could fix things up to--to deceive you, I suppose." "Yes," assented Dick.